November In 2014
So, I was supposed to move to San Diego with Shady
(Pronounced: Sh-aw-dey) *name changed*in 2014. But my house caught fire so, I
chose to stay another year. Why you ask? Because I had done a favor for a
friend.
The favor was to take in his girlfriend whom he had a
domestic spat with, apparently he felt horrible for giving her a black eye, or
he figured I would somehow coax her not to call the police. Either way, I
stepped in to help. And really she was helping me too. She gave me her entire
paycheck which put me ahead of the curve for at least a month!
Things were going great. In my mind I figured; “Ok, now that
I’m caught up and spending half as much on bills, I can save double the money
for my California-cation.”
Well that thought came to a screeching halt 2 days after I
was ahead of the curve when I got a call, at work, from my neighbor that went
something like:
“Your house is on
fire do you want me to kick in the door to get your dogs?”
If I were I the type of person who could leave someone in a
rut, I would’ve cut my losses and headed for California immediately. But I’m
not and I couldn’t just leave my new roommate twisted in the wind. So I found
someplace for us to go.
Fast forward about 9 months
It’s time to go!
So I called Shady in San Diego and I tell her:
“Ok...Shady I’m ready to leave Kansas does the offer still
stand for me to come?”
Shady and I had been acquainted since I was 18 years old.
Never had one riff. She was a character that’s why I liked her. In fact, the
first time we ever spoke she walked up to me and asked if she could take my
girlfriend on a date. Thoroughly amused by her request, and the look on my then
girlfriend’s face of disgust, I agreed. I’m a character myself.
Anyhow after that, somehow, she became someone I truly considered
a friend. Her response to me asking if I
could come to San Diego was:
“Of course it still stands, I’m so alone out here, and I
need another adult to talk I’m going crazy with just me and these kids.”
As the relocation date drew nearer her calls became more
frequent always wanting to know:
“Are you still coming? Have you changed your mind?”
There was a 3 day period that she couldn’t reach me and when
we finally did speak she was anxious:
“You haven’t changed your mind have you?”
Of course I hadn’t! I had been in a love affair with
California for as long as I could remember and God knows I hated Wichita KS. I
had already resigned from my job, given up my apartment, and placed all my
furniture in storage. I answered, triple checked jokingly:
“It’s still okay if I come right? Her response:
“Of course man! If I could I would meet you at the equator.”
Those words resounded in me and made me feel very welcomed.
They solidified that this was going to be an experience. Shortly after we
exchanged confirmation to one another, she introduced me to the father of her
children and bore his soul through screenshots.
She and he were into a heated argument and I got to see the
type of things he would say when angry. In my opinion, what you say to someone
you love, or someone you dislike even, when you are angry tells a lot about the
type of person you are. He said a mouthful to her. Hurtful things, recounting
traumatizing things from her past and combining them with his cause. I remember
reading something to the effect of:
“That’s why your mother never loved you she must’ve known that you’re a worthless whore.”
And again something shocking to the effect of:
“I can’t wait to beat a bitch’s ass for trying to stand up
for you.”
The context was referring to a friend of hers there in San
Diego. However, I didn’t need to see much more to know this is DEFINITELY not
the type of person I want to be around, for any reason, or to know anything
about me at all. Immediately, I made my stance known and clear on the father of
her children and she concurred.
I listened to her cry about needing help, about feeling
lonely, and needing to feel alive. As a friend, I felt for her and I needed a
change as well. I thought to myself this move would be good for both Shady and
I.
DECEMBER 13, 2015
The moment my relocation funds arrived, Stoney and I hit the
road for California a 22 hour road trip.
Oh who’s Stoney? Only the best dog ever:
My Uber intelligent 4 year old Labrador mix that I’ve had by my side
since he was six weeks old. My road dog.
And what a beautiful road that was?! The first leg of the
trip, I rode through western Kansas, through Oklahoma into Texas and on to
Albuquerque New Mexico. I rested there for the night and rose about 3 am to
finish my journey, my dream come true relocation.
As I drove it was like a healing for my soul, a cleansing so
to speak. With each mile that I moved further from Wichita I shed the dead skin
of it all: The teenage pregnancy, la Vida loca I once lived, my failed
long-term relationship and its great aftershocks, the teen molestation I
endured for years. Any and all pain that I associated with the state of Kansas,
was leaving with every rotation of my four wheels.
As I drove to my new home; I was in awe of the Mountains of
New Mexico and beautiful Arizona, all the canyons, mountains and Native
American reservations and cactus. A vast change from the flatlands and farm
scenery I had just escaped. A welcomed changed.
But it wasn’t till I reached Sunny California that I felt
everything melt away. Heartbreak? What was heartbreak?... Pain? Not me I felt
amazing!... Memories? Had I even been alive before I crossed this border? If so
I can’t recall anything but my family!
When I think of my family one face is always prominent, my
moms’ face of course. She is a big part of my heart… and I had left it in
Kansas. A hard decision to make, for a girl to leave the front porch, even if
it’s not hard for a girl, it’s hard for mom.
Think about it. I’m
1300 miles away, not married, and to be frank she was nervous about me going to
stay with Shady. Before I left she kept asking me if I was sure that Shady was
ok with me staying there. If I was certain that she was the type of person I
wanted to stay with. If I was sure I even wanted to leave.
I just kept seeing my mothers face and hearing her voice. A
determination came over me to prove I made the right choice. I told myself as I
looked at the sun and the palm trees and the mountains of California, that I
wouldn’t take this city for granted and that I would make the best of this
experience. I was going to work hard and play lighter. Until I could afford to
do otherwise.
I wasn’t in the Golden State good before I ran into a snafu.
On the highway there was some sort of checkpoint. To me it looked like a weigh
station for trucks. Assuming that I didn’t have to stop for it, I blew by
it. A woman in a police type uniform
jumps into the lane yelling and flailing her arms to flag me down. I wondered:
Am I in big trouble?!! Had I just broken the law somehow?
I threw on the brakes and watched as she walked over to me.
Agitated she says:
“Do you realize you are circumventing a required
checkpoint?”
“No I didn’t. I’ve never seen one like this before. I
thought it was a weigh station.”
“Yes, this lane you’re are in is reserved for emergency
vehicles only.”
“Please excuse me. I assure you it wasn’t intentional. What
do I need to do?”
“Well we can’t have you back up now. That’s illegal on the
highway. I’ll just need to ask you a few questions.”
A few questions…this sounds
like serious stuff. I braced myself for questions about drugs, alcohol or sex
trafficking even. I wasn’t prepared for what she would say next:
“Do you got any pine-nuts in there?” I’m thinking:
Pine-nuts???
“No”
“What about any fruits?” again I said:
“No”
“Ok… you’re free to go.”
A darn agricultural checkpoint. Really California?! Really?! I reached San Diego at 1:30pm on Tuesday Dec 15, 2015. I was there less than 24 hours before I got my first dose of
Odyssey.
December 15, 2015
It was the next morning around 10:00am. Shady had just
dropped her children off to school. My plan for the day was to rest up from the
drive and at some point see the Ocean. After all
the Ocean was one of my main reasons for coming to California. I grew up a Navy
brat so I lived in a lot of port cities. Since I was a child, the Ocean has
always had this mastery over me. Just looking at it places a calm on my heart
and mind. It’s spiritual even. The longer I watch the waves, the closer I feel
to the Creator and the more in awe I am over His Majesty.
As I gathered my
clothes to shower Shady entered the room and sits on the bed and begins to cry.
I asked:
“What’s wrong?”
Tears
streaming down her face she says to me:
“I don’t think this roommate situation is going to work
oooouut.”
My heart sank into my house shoes, my gut wrenched, smoke came out of my ears,
my insides were ringing like a 4 alarm fire but my exterior cool as a fan. My response to that was simply and calmly:
“Don’t you worry,
I’ll be out of your hair in 3 months.”
Obviously shocked, and quite honestly disappointed in my
calm demeanor and lack of over-reaction, she asked probingly, even provokingly,
asked:
“Are you ok? Are you mad? Look at me?”
This was what
I call the moment of honesty. So much honesty in one moment: I realized in that
instant that I made a mistake moving here with her.
As I looked into her crocodile tear filled eyes I could see,
a 5 ring circus that caught fire. The monkeys were hanging from everywhere, the
elephant was beating the trainer with his trunk, the lion was feasting on what
was left of the audience and the big top was ablaze, accompanied of course with
circus music!
Easily now, I
concluded that there was very little mental stability within her. I looked at
her and said:
“Obviously, this situation is not ideal. I left my entire
life in Kansas; job, apartment, transferred schools, placed all I own into
storage. To come here on your invitation and word and you tell me in less than
24 hours that you don’t think room-mating is going to work.”
I jumped in the shower and put job hunting at the forefront
of my things to do that day. And so it was.The next 4
days passed without incident, although there was much more insight into the
pickle I positioned myself in. I began noticing emotional instability prevailed
in this home.
Her children
cried and threw tantrums daily, that she would first combat with patience, that
would quickly mount to impatience then at the drop of a hat turn to a “top of
your lungs” yell fest between her and whichever child had chosen to press her
buttons, followed by tears from the children, which usually resulted in either
her spanking the child; or her hitting herself to keep from hitting her
children, (Yes that face you’re making is the one I made when I witnessed it
too!) highlighted by an emotional breakdown of Shady and finalized with the
children’s surrender to the standoff about whatever the issue of the day was:
Breakfast, shoes to be worn to school, movies to watch… basically everything.
Don’t get me wrong, these are beautiful children. Innocent
even with huge hearts that unfortunately are just mirroring their mothers’
habits of crying and chaos. By Sunday morning I asked openly, (truthfully it was more of
a word vomit movement motivated by sheer irritation with my surroundings) I
just had to know, it was plaguing me:
“Do you cry every day Bitch??" To which she responds while in the middle of crying:
“Not every day.”
I was so grateful I had seen the circus ablaze in her eyes in
less than 24 hours. It was the motivation I needed to not turn into a beach bum
to secure gainful employment, save my money and get my own as soon as humanly
possible.
DECEMBER 21, 2015
By that Monday I had not one, but 2 job interviews lined up
for the day and various promising leads to boot. I nailed one of my interviews
and had a job that began on January 4, 2016.
I felt so accomplished, not in the since that I had reached
my goal. But just proud, after all I had been here for 6 days, less than a
week, and already was making moves towards self-sufficiency. During that six
days I even met some interesting people. It was starting to feel like I was
building a new life for myself. Made of raw materials that I was handpicking, I
felt everything was going to be alright.
About midday
on Monday I paused the job hunt for lunch. Although I found work I fully
intended to keep looking, you never know what else is out there and I could
always do better. When I pulled up to the apartment, Shady was outside and just
guess what she was doing? You got it crying, becoming quite numb to the
constant waterworks display I simply asked:
“Why are you crying now?”
Her response was something I had not prepared for, mentally,
emotionally, physically, or financially. She said to me:
“I need to talk to the Office, I just got a letter from the
Sheriff that said we need to be out tomorrow at 10:30am.”
Certain that she was mistaken I asked to see the letter.
Sure enough it was from the San Diego County Sheriff’s Department demanding the
premises be vacated on Tuesday December 22, 2015. Less than 24 hours! She was
at the final step of the Eviction process. I was floored! Feeling utter shock and disbelief I asked
her:
“Why did you invite me here knowing that you were in the
process of eviction?!”
Her response boiled down to her getting help from a disabled
veterans program, she thought the financial relief would come before the
eviction. Looking for solutions I said:
“Well how much is it maybe we can pay them somehow?”
“3 THOUSAND DOLLARS.”
Was her too calm, too cool, and crazed
but collected answer.
She lived in a 3 bedroom, 2 bath apartment that cost $1500 a
month. This is actually a bit of a steal in San Diego as far as apartments are
concerned. Adding insult to injury; her being a disabled vet she received
$2,000 on the first of every month. That’s in addition to child support from
her children’s father. I couldn’t think of any reason other than drugs, which I
didn’t see, or mental illness to be in this position.
I wondered about her to myself:
If she knew I was
coming 6 months ago… why did she stop paying her rent 2 months ago?
The truth was as simple and clear to me as it had never been
before and will always be from then on:
Misery Loves Company.
I watched as she reveled in her manic state. Frantically and
irrationally trying to pack her entire 3 bedroom apartment up in less than 24
hours. I felt pity for her and tried to calm her. I could’ve been angry, I had
every right to be.
Truthfully, the good person in me prevailed. I thought to
myself:
“Angel this situation is not what you planned at all, but the eviction
is not just happening to you… she and her children are also at a disadvantage.”
So I called to her and had her sit down.
“Shady you are not going to be able to pack this entire
house in less than 24 hours. Why don’t you pack the essentials and just come
back for the rest?”
“They will take my things and not let me get them!!”
“Look at the letter again…you can get your things they will
just charge you for storage.”
Though she was relieved, my innards were turbulent. Already
she had expressed to me that she didn’t want to roommate, financially I wasn’t
prepared for the move, let alone prepared for an emergency situation like this
one. This fact is unarguably of my biggest mistakes in this entire situation.
That night I spoke with my Aunt Bonnie. Before I told her
the ordeal I made her swear not to tell my mother. Once she agreed to keep my
confidence, I divulged everything from beginning to end. These were things I
didn’t have the courage to tell my mother for more than one reason. One reason
was pride. The choice I made, that my mother wasn’t on-board with, wasn’t
panning out the way I planned. Who wants to hear I told you so?? The other
reason was my mother is a worry wart. I didn’t want to add frantic hourly calls
from a distressed Mother to my plate.
Aunt Bonnie affirmed that if she had the funds she would
help me but that unfortunately she didn’t. I hadn’t asked her for any money but I was grateful at the emotion
behind her words. In the spirit of those emotions she said to me:
“If it gets too bad NeeNee you need to go home.”
At that
time, to me, leaving beautiful San Diego wasn’t even an option. Resolutely, I
hunted for an inexpensive extended stay hotel per Shady’s request with a budget
of $230 weekly. As I hunted online she packed up the essentials for her and her
children. I didn’t find anything matching her criteria that wasn’t booked
solid. Apparently, everyone who wants to live in Sunny San Diego, without the
proper means, finds an extended stay hotel, finds work and stays there until
they can afford an apartment. It’s only a great idea if you thought of it first
right?
My things
were a lot simpler to pack considering all I brought was clothes, toiletries
and things I couldn’t live without: music, my speakers, painting supplies, my
dslr camera, of course my bible.
December 22, 2015
The next morning, still without a resolution to lodging, I
woke and (for the second time in less than a week) packed all my essentials and
belongings into my 2002 Toyota Corolla AKA Betsy.
I finished packing
everything at about 9:50 am. I thought to myself:
“Sheriff won’t be here for
another 40 minutes so I can take a shower.”
The Sheriff was
early! It was 10:00 am when the Sheriffs arrived and I was in the middle of
showering. I heard them enter the apartment and I also heard Stoney (who
regularly gets mistaken for a pit-bull because of his big red nose) “greet” the
officers. The officers initially seemed nice. I called for Stoney from the
shower to come to me. He obeyed.
I heard Radio garbled transmissions and an officer say:
“We’ve got someone down here in the shower.”
Immediately I exited the shower wrapped myself in a towel
and opened the door to the officer and alerted him:
“Officer I’m out of the shower. I’m getting dressed now.”
Quickly I dressed and opened the door so that the officers
can see that I am packing my clothes and toiletries that I just used, leaving
this apartment and had no intention of giving them trouble. But of course,
Stoney had something else in mind.
When I opened the door to the bedroom there were more
Sheriffs. Stones natural instinct is to protect me, he surveys all these huge
and high-strung officers and immediately you could see Stone's discomfort. The
officers began to kiss at him and call to him. Stone's response is NOT
favorable. His hairs stand up, his tail straight up, his head down he begins to
growl at the officers. Does this stop them? It would stop me!
A dog growling is Human for “leave me alone!” and that is
Universal! But what did Officer Prick and D’bagge do? They began antagonizing
him, kissing more, calling Stone to them. Instigating and provoking him if you
ask me. And all I can think of is:
Stop this before Stoney snaps and one of
them shoot him.
Why so pessimistic you ask? Have you watched the news
lately? If this is the regard SOME (I REPEAT: SOME) law enforcement has for
human life, they wouldn’t give a flying farting hooting nanny about dispensing
“justice” to a dog they considered a threat, with extreme prejudice. Abruptly, I requested:
“Can you guys leave him alone? Clearly he is uncomfortable.”
I could cut the tension with a knife. Ten seconds passed and
Officer D’bagge angrily retorts:
“You got less than a minute to get out of there!” Placing my
final bag on my shoulder I replied:
“I don’t need a minute good sir.”
Then walked myself and Stoney to my vehicle. As I sat in the
parking lot watching the Police escort Shady out of the home in hysterical
tears and her pack her car, I wondered to myself: “What next?!” Not just: What
are we going to do now? Where am I going to sleep tonight? Or… Angel did you
make the right choice? But “What else could go wrong?” It wasn’t long before I
realized…plenty more could go wrong.
After the eviction we met at the local Library to mastermind
a plan as to what we would do. Still unresolved on lodging for the week at the
time we had to separate.
Finally she had received the help from the disabled vet
program who were prepared to pay the deposit and first month rent wherever she
would move to. So she had to go fill out the paperwork.
We had separate cars and I didn’t want to follow her all around so I
stayed at the library awaiting to hear from her on what the plan was for
lodging that night. Hours passed and finally I heard from her. She had secured a
storage for her furniture from the apartment, signed her paperwork for the
assistance and was about to pick up her children from school and take them to
dinner. Meanwhile I had left the library and went to the beach to decompress,
pray, think and kill time.
Once she finished dinner she called me for an update:
“Ok the kids and I just ate dinner. I sent Otis*name
changed* (The father of her kids) a copy of the eviction notice yesterday when
I got it and he’s just now responding. I need to call him.”
My thoughts, just for a moment, are:
Maybe she is just finding a place for her children.
But then I remembered
everything that has happened since the moment I had arrived, and I braced
myself for the worse. A couple more hours passed and she calls me. Me, who is still
drifting, quite aimlessly, around this city I know absolutely nothing about and
very few people in.
“Meet me at the Roadway Inn.”
Finally a hotel! Although I’m miffed because all day I’ve
been in my car. She could’ve rented a hotel this morning and I could’ve
regrouped and been able to be productive while she handled her business. That
would’ve been “too much like right” as my Grandmother used to put it.
Knowing full well it wasn’t my responsibility, it’s what I
would’ve done. I get to the hotel and see her leaving the hotel lobby she spots
my car and waves me over. I come over and she is doing what? Crying!
“What’s up now?” I asked.
“We are on our way to stay with Otis… cause he said the kids
and I can stay and halfway there he changed his mind”…
She taps my hand and gestures to look down. I looked at her
fingers crossed (indicating that this part of the story she was telling me was
untrue) and she continues:
“…because it was too
late.”
Translation: This deadbeat dad left his children homeless.
Now I get not wanting to house Shady. But geez, your own children you would
leave in the street to spite their mother? That was actually my second thought.
My first was (Excuse my French):
This Bitch made plans
for herself, not considering me, in fact knowing that if they went with Otis
that left Stoney and I completely out of the equation.
I was angry but what good would expressing my anger do at
this point. It could only win me an express one night stay in my lovely Toyota
Corolla. The Roadway had no vacancy so she had to find another hotel. It was at
a country club. Very nice facility, inexpensive for the accommodations and
clean. Didn’t look like they type of place that accepted dogs though. When I
asked her did they accept dogs she told me:
“I don’t know I didn’t even check.”
“Did you get this room on your credit card?”
“Yes”
“You know they will charge you a fee when I bring him in?”
She gave me this stale, cold look that implied he should
sleep in the car. I returned fire with my own stale look and said:
“I’ll put his bed by the door and make sure he doesn’t move
around.”
Once again showing a lack of concern for me or my needs in
this situation that I accepted invitation to. That night at the country club I
continued my Job hunt for something that started in between then and the new
job as well as lodging. As I calculated everything that had transpired since I
arrived it was painfully, abundantly and irrefutably clear that she couldn’t
care less what happened to me. I was alone on this ledge. And my California
Dream had officially turned into a NIGHTMARE!
Those thoughts kept me from dreaming that night and rose me
early to make every effort to make the best of my decision to go to California.
I had found a job. That was a big step forward that left me with a glimmer of
hope that everything was going to be okay.
But I knew whatever I did I needed to be planning for myself
because Shady had no intention of making plans or accommodations that included
me…other than a funeral.
DECEMBER 23,2015
My first call
was to 211. Job or no job, I needed somewhere to stay. They advised to go seek
emergency food and general relief assistance from San Diego County, and
attempted to assist with shelter. I say attempted because with Stoney there
were no shelter options. Some of you may say:
“Really Angel?? The
dog kept you from shelter!” My answer to that is:
“Yes really. He’s been with me since he was a puppy, I
brought him across the country with me. I couldn't abandon him. He’s my forever dog, and he’s just not
a pet TO ME. He’s my family, and also my certified therapy dog.” I did however get great leads to get assistance. When I
finished my call with 211. Shady says to me, in tears of course, and in the
most annoying whining voice you’ve ever heard:
“What kind of assistance are you getting…is it something I
can get help with too…cause I need help masterminding.”
My empathy, sympathy and patience worn I bluntly replied:
“Now you want to be a Team?! You weren’t thinking of a team
when you made plans with Otis. You weren’t thinking of a team when you booked
this hotel. I have to make moves for myself because it’s clear whatever your
plans are don’t include me.”
Her face was one surprised that I reached the right
conclusion. As if she believed me to be blind to her treachery and ignorant to
her plans to leave me abandoned. I had seen it all and chosen to give the
benefit of the doubt, until she removed all doubt. She attempted to convince me
of the solidity of our friendship and that this was a joint effort. I tipped my
hat and separated from her thinking:
“If she comes with a resolution for lodging I’ll take it,
after all I’m in no position to turn down anything but my collar. I’ll save
money and get far away from her as soon as humanly possible. But make
arrangements for yourself still Angel.”
As I told you I met very few people there. One of them was a
man named Ike.*name changed* Ike was a middle aged man that I met and had taken me out to
lunch the week I arrived. I had returned the favor of a meal by cooking him
dinner at his place. The potential for a good friendship was there, however I
was taking things slow. After all, can’t get booed up (start dating) the first
week I’m here. Lots more people to meet! But I definitely did enjoy the time we
spent. Although it was apparent to me he was ready for much much more.
That morning Ike called to check on me and to see how I was
doing. He also offered to me a place to stay. He offered me to stay at his home
with him. Granted the house was nice and I needed a place to stay however, his
house was full he had a 4 bedroom with 3 roommates. I asked:
“Where would I sleep?”
“In my bed.”
“Would you expect us to have sex?” He said nonchalantly:
“Weeeellll not every
night.”
Thanks Ike. But no thanks! I was willing to do much to stay
in California and make the best of a bad situation. But sex in exchange for
lodging was not on that list. I politely declined and continued to seek
assistance.
I got to the county office and humbly applied for government
assistance. Of course I got the luck of the draw and got the rudest woman
working cases. I had explained thoroughly my entire situation. To which she
replied without empathy and clearly void of any compassionate thoughts:
“Sooo you quit your job, moved to California and now you
want to get food stamps.”
“No. I resigned and relocated to California, and found
myself in this emergency situation and need assistance. Don’t say it like I
moved here to live off the State. I have a job that starts on Monday. And if
you can see in your system I haven’t received any government assistance since I
was 17 years old.”
I was offended at her insinuation. Her response to me was:
“Well you don’t qualify for emergency assistance we can set
you an appointment to receive your benefits.”
“Well what is it that you consider an emergency…I mean what
else has to happen…”
She quickly dismissed my complaint and had me sit to wait
for someone to schedule my intake appointment. While waiting I spoke with 2
people. The first was to the supervisor of "Rude"-y the Gate Keeping Troll to
emergency assistance.
The supervisor was a
very nice man who informed me that they would make every effort to accommodate
me as soon as possible. What a relief! I set an appointment with the scheduler
for the very next day, Thursday December 24, 2015 Christmas Eve. The other
person I spoke with was Shady. She called and said:
“How’s it
going?”
“It’s going.
What’s up?”
“I spoke to the babysitter today…” Intuitively I asked:
“So did she say you guys could stay the night there or what?” She says:
“I’ve no idea she said she would call me back later. What
about you have you come up with anything.”
“I found a Motel 6 that was in the weekly range you stated,
accepts dogs, by the beach, recently renovated.”
“Well call and make the reservation…well wait let me check
the bank and see what I have on hand.”
Now you readers don’t forget that in 7 days she gets $2000
for being a disabled vet, in addition to the fact the she was to receive child
support and the rent and deposit was paid for her a new place to go, when she
found it. I asked her:
“Why are you still looking for temporary housing when all
you have to do is find a new permanent place?”
“I’m not going to be able to find one today.”
“You certainly won’t if you’re not actively looking for one.
You don’t know what you could find…”
Stumped
by my questions she insisted that she needed to check her bank balance and call
me back. One hour passed, turned to 3, turned to 4 hours. During this time I
just continued searching for lodging, and immediate work, finally she calls:
“So the baby
sitter called…and said the kids and I can stay with her for 30 days.”
By now I wasn’t shocked, I had accepted and expected her to
leave me on skid row. No pun intended. I kept silent and just listened. Five
seconds pass and she said:
“But I can’t do thaaaaat, even if I didn’t have you to
consider.”
“Why not?”
I said calmly as I
could muster. Playing along with this façade that she felt any emotions
whatsoever. Playing along with the act that she was not either a sociopath or
psychopath who enjoyed ruining lives. Plagued by the constant nagging thought
that maybe Otis wasn’t a bad guy before he dealt with her, realizing that 15
minutes with her in any intimate setting would drive the sanest person mad. As
my thoughts reeled forth I awaited her answer:
“Because, I’m 32 years old with two children… what do I look
like staying with the 17 year old babysitter and her parents?”
Realizing that to her this was mental chess; she assumed
that I would say something like:
“Don’t be proud…you’ve got kids...” Instead I said:
“I can understand that.”
Ha! That had cornered her. I wasn’t about to soothe her
conscience and make it easier than it clearly had been to leave me in this
disadvantage state. I hoped and very distantly even believed she would not do
what she did in the next 3 seconds flat:
“I guess I could stay there for a few days but where does
that leave youuuuuu...
My heart couldn’t sink again, it was still in my shoe from
the initial shock of the entire situation. Sarcastically I replied:
“The same place it left you before you got that phone call.”
“Come on man don’t be upset. You’re my friend. I’m trying to
help you figure something out…”
“If you want to help me...want to be a friend… fill up my gas
tank.” Quickly she agreed...
“Ok I can do that. I’m going to feed the kids then……”
“No I’ve been waiting to hear from you for hours. I know you
guys eating dinner is important but I haven’t eaten in two days and I need gas.”
“Ok where do you want to meet?”
I pulled into the gas station we agreed upon in our last
conversation. Shortly after she arrived.
She couldn’t look at me in the eyes right away. I opened my tank, and
she went inside to pay. When she came out she walked over to my car and said:
“You need to turn your back window defrost on."
Condensation had built up on the inside of my back window
from Stoney and I being in this car all day. Awkwardly I retorted:
“That’s on the inside defrost won’t help.” Her next words took the form of a request:
“The kids want to say hi to you.”
The kids were great. No
need to take it out on them because there mother is a lunatic. I go over to her
car and speak to the children. Give them both big hugs and kisses I walk back
over to my car where Shady is and she asks:
“Can I have a bottled water?”
At the moment I lost it! I snatched the pump out of my car
doused her with gasoline and lit a match while I sang:
“Burn baby burn Disco
Infernoooooo!!!”
Ok so that part only happened in my brain. What I did next
will surprise people who know me well. I reached in my car and gave her the
water. She then, as I was about ready to enter my car she asked for a hug. I
knew she was trying to provoke me probably thinking:
Please do anything, say anything horrid, to free me
from any conscience that may linger, anything to justify my actions.
I hugged her.
While hugging her I reached in my pocket, grabbed my pocket
knife and poked several tiny holes in her back. Ok that too only happened in my mind. She said good bye and got in her car. I started to drive
away immediately but thoughts kept me from doing that:
“Pulling off to where Angel? Where are you going? What are
you going to do…One tank of gas is not enough… What about tonight where are you
and Stoney going to sleep?....”
While I’m sitting
there thinking, panicking even… there was a knock on my window. It was a homeless woman asking me for change.
Though she and I were in the same predicament I saw her as less fortunate. At
least I had a car that I could sleep in and feel some measure of security
because I could lock the doors. She probably sleeps outside in the open
vulnerable to any and everything, was my thought process. So I reached in my
coin holder and gave her a handful of change. I understood her pain.
I hadn’t
ate since Monday it’s now Wednesday night. Didn’t know where my next rest would
come from nor my next meal. I had spoken with some people regards shelter that
day and made efforts to reach them unsuccessfully.
My mother called to check on me. I didn’t want to but I had
to tell her everything.
“Why didn’t you tell me this when it happened Monday.”
“You were on vacation I didn’t want to ruin it. I didn’t
want you panicking. I didn’t want to hear I told you so.”
“Well I could’ve helped! I had money! I would’ve sent it to
you. I have to talk to Michael (stepdad) and see what we can do in the morning.
You have to figure something out for tonight.”
It was late, there wasn’t a shelter I could go to that by
now wasn’t already full. I had to tough
it out in my car. I drove around until I found a place well-lit but
secluded. I found an office park, perfect, with a well-lit parking lot and enough seclusion to where I felt safe. But as I
looked around I realized I wasn’t alone. There were people, homeless people,
coming for the spot I was in. I wouldn’t get any sleep wondering if they
dangerous or worse desperate. So I found
another place. Guess what happened? The very same things! I was looking for
what every homeless person in San Diego had already found and somehow already
laid claim to.
I had to rest not
because I was sleepy but mostly because I was mentally and emotionally
spent. As I hunted for a safe place to
park my car I prayed for strength, and endurance, and help. Then God gave me a great
idea. I was passing an outpatient operating and recovery hospital owned by
Kaiser Permanente. A safe parking lot on a hill, well lit, with security who
wouldn’t question my car in the lot. There I rested my eyes, in between
hourly phone calls from my mother giving emotional support and reassurance that
everything would be okay. Where normally an hourly call from anyone would drive
me up a wall... Every time my phone rang I felt like I wasn’t alone and at least
someone in the world cared what happened to me next.
CHRISTMAS EVE 2015
That morning I headed to my appointment for assistance.
While waiting, I got a call from Shady:
SingSongy: “Good morning! Wait…is it morning? Oh Afternoon.
What are you doing?”
Call me names, but I took the fact that she didn’t know the
time of day it was as a personal insult. To me that meant she slept well. I
resented that because I barely slept.
“Walking Stone” I replied.
“C’mon man I mean what’s up I’m checking on you. I love you
you’re my friend.” I corrected her:
“You do not love me, and we are not friends. If you loved me
at all I wouldn’t be in my car right now. If the shoe was on the other foot,
wherever I went you would’ve went with me. I feel some type of way about you
and it ain't loving or friendly!” Then I hung up on her.
HIM
I was inside
the County building for 20 minutes before HE walked in. He was 6’4, smooth chocolate skin and
inviting eyes. To put into one word Handsome. Think Eddie Winslow, the
character on Family Matters.
Just for one moment I
forgot where I was staring this man down at. That’s a conversation starter
right? (Where did you guys meet??? At the Welfare office.) That’s not hot.
Just as I remembered where I was he looked at me. He didn’t
hesitate to come over to where I was, sit down and spark up a conversation. He
told me a bit of his story, it was interesting; very interesting. He told me
about some mistakes he made in his life that lead him to where he was today.
Who am I to judge? I was in a pickle as well from poor decision making. I
listened to his story and told him a little of mine. I told him what happened up until the moment
he walked in the door. How did he get my guard down so quickly? “Eddie” was so easy to talk to. I even told
him:
“You remind me of my brother. Not like brotherly but just
how easy it is to talk to you. When is your birthday?”
“April 23rd."
That date alone should have sent me running in the other
direction without any regard for anyone else’s safety. That was my exes’
birthday. But it explained it for me, my brother and my ex share astrological
signs. “Eddie” told me after I was
finished to meet him around the corner at the local Library. I needed to do
some research and I could use someone to talk to who knew this town.
I finished my
appointment. San Diego County had given me food assistance finally, I could, at
least, eat something. I left the county building and went to the public library
where “Eddie Winslow” had invited me to meet him. As I pulled up I saw “Eddie”
standing in front of the Library with his crew. He waved me down and showed me
where to park. I parked my car, put Stoney on a leash and got out.
There was a woman who stood maybe 6ft tall watching my every
move. She wore a piece of purple cloth, meant to be a dress, with everything
hanging out of the attic and the basement. She looked at me with a green eye.
The feeling I gathered from this look was she didn’t like me. I shrugged off
this feeling and walked over to “Eddie”.
He introduced me to
his crew, 6 unsavory characters. Almost immediately, I felt super uncomfortable with
my company. I was facing them all and their eyes were fixated at something my
back was to. I turn to look: and it was a park. Not a big park. It was about a
quarter of a city block, a picnic park. No benches or swings, just grass. The
park was full people smoking weed, drinking beers, c-walking, basically just
hanging out. The closer I looked I
realized that these people weren’t just hanging out enjoying a day at the park.
They lived there. They had clothes and shopping carts of their belongings,
babies in pajamas.
I asked “Eddie”:
“Do they live there?”
“Yeah”
“Do you live out here too?”
“No I sleep at my homies but they out here all day and night
spending they lil money so I’m out here getting it.”
I was shocked because these weren’t old people. These were
young people, around my age, with all their limbs in working condition. No
visible reason they couldn’t be working SOMEWHERE! I looked around and I felt
out of place. These people I was around, however well intentioned,
disadvantaged, or whatever their back story had absolutely sense of quality of
life. They seemed more than content to live this way. “Eddie” saw the look on
my face and began to attempt to convince me that staying in this area with
these people was a good move:
“They bring stuff by here all the time like tissue, and
deodorant… good brand names too not bullshit…on Fridays they bring pizza down
here.” I’m thinking to myself:
“Why are you telling me this? I’m not trying to get on the
homeless or shiftless routine with the rest of the people down here?”
He then looks at me with an expression that would make
alarms sound in my head. I like to use the expression: Like hot cocoa in
December. He asked me:
“Where you be parking at?”
“Anywhere dark and
safe…I don’t know the streets names well.” With the same engaging stare he points toward the library
parking lot and says to me:
“You can park right over there and I’ll make sure nobody
bothers you.” That invitation may have been honorable but I didn’t stay
around to figure it out. I told him:
“Nah man, I’m about progression, I slept in my car last
night. I’m not doing that again.”
“Progress takes time though, you got to be patient…”
“Progress doesn’t take time…it only takes effort... it’s a
direction not a speed. Sleeping in my car again is not the direction I want to
go.” I retorted.
“Well if you want I can get you a hotel room to sleep in
tonight.”
Truly a tempting offer considering I was homeless. But I
couldn’t escape the nagging, ok jolting, reality that no one gives you anything
for free. I couldn’t believe this. In that moment I realized that I was talking
to a pimp. No, not pimp like a guy who gets all the ladies but a real live
Pimp. Like Pimp Bishop Don Magic Juan, Fillmore Slim, or Finesse. He was running pimp game
on me. No wonder he was so easy to talk to! Pimps are skilled in the art of
conversation!
My time at this library had expired. “Eddie” walked away for
a moment and I took out Stones food dishes. As I fed Stoney and gave him water,
I said several silent prayers asking God to give me the wisdom and strength to
remove myself from these surroundings without provoking or offending present
company.
“GO”
...was the unmistakable answer that I heard. With that I
began packing up Stoney’s dishes to leave. “Eddie” came back over with 2 of his
friends who began small talking me and asking me questions about Stone which I
answered as I packed up. But was then distracted by a ruckus in the park where
all the homeless people were. It was the big woman in the small purple dress having a
dispute with another woman at the park. “Eddie” says something like:
“Yea, that lady is a trip. She’s fresh out of prison today.
The first thing she did was lay on the grass and pull up her dress and invited
all the guys to have sex with her cause she been locked up for 8 years.”
I knew now why she didn’t like me right away, she could tell
I wasn’t one of them. Not better than them, just not one of them. I wasn’t okay
with my situation, and I wanted better for myself. But try handling any
business on Christmas Eve. Shelters booked, Mom and Michael were working on
funds.
After I left the Library I continued the job search but
nightfall was coming. All the productivity on the planet couldn’t shadow the
fact that I was looking at yet another dreadful night in my car.
Daddy! I had to call Dad and I hated to do it. I hadn’t
talked to my father in almost a year. That backstory is a whole other story in
itself. I called my big brother first
and told him all about “Eddie” how easy he was to talk to and the entire
library situation. He came to the same conclusion that I had: I was in real
danger. I told my brother:
“Dude I can’t sleep in my car again, I may have to call
daddy.”
“I think that’s your best bet right now.”
Then I cried profusely and had to say another prayer. Again
requesting strength and the removal of my pride for this emergency situation. I
swallowed my pride and called my father. I explained my situation from A-Z then
asked for his help. My father and Step-mother Jacquie sent me $200. This was
enough to afford me a weekly stay hotel until my new job started the following
Monday.
Air! I could breathe, I could rest. Now, if I could find a
hotel on Christmas Eve. I looked, everything booked to capacity except this
place call 501 West Hotel. The price was right, they had vacancy, and the
pictures I seen online looked inviting. I would’ve slept in any hotel that
night to be honest with you. I just needed a place to regroup, rest, recuperate
and rejuvenate.
It’s after 10pm on Christmas Eve when I began heading toward
500 West Hotel. Exhausted I fell asleep behind the wheel. I woke to the sound
of my front passenger side crashing into a low median separating an exit from
the highway. Simultaneously it begins to rain. It didn’t take long to feel I
had a flat tire! Thankfully, I was near my exit for the Hotel! I pulled off the
highway into sheltered parking of another hotel got out my car and shouted in
despair:
“Heavenly Father… Whhhhyyyy?”
I went inside my
trunk pulled out the two large suitcases that filled them and pulled out my
donut. Looking at the tire that popped I realized it wasn’t just a flat tire. I
had destroyed the rim. As I changed the tire I calculated the kerfunkle I was
in: I couldn’t get to work on a donut. I didn’t have the money for a new
rim and tire plus the hotel stay. I couldn’t ask my father to send MORE
money. What to do??
I decided when I pulled in front of 500 Hotel West that I
would get a room for 2 nights and that would give me time to do damage control
and construct a viable plan. One that would allow me to still make the best of
this bad situation. I went inside this hotel. The lobby was inviting the
furniture strong yet subtle. Put you in a different era even. The staff was professional
but relaxed and approachable. I thought to myself: Decent place, this is
progress this isn’t my car and I’m safe from any dangers.
I really believed that until I walked over to this death
trap of an elevator. 501 West was built in 1921, an old YMCA before it was a
hotel. The elevators reflected the age of the building. There were 6 floors and
only 2 elevators. One, of course, had a poorly written sign informing guests
that it is out of order. My room had to
be on the 6th floor. Quite the trek for someone exhausted, carrying luggage and
escorting a huge dog. I took my chances on the one working Elevator.
Stoney and I entered this elevator and the moment it began
to elevate Stone wanted off! This thing was shaking like a salt shaker, making
all types of sounds, protesting its will to elevate any longer! In other words
this things sound and felt like it was about to plummet to the basement at any
moment. I spent the ride eyes closed, breathing methodically and praying.
I had a nice looooooong talk with my Creator I might add. I’ve
never been on an elevator that takes a minute per floor to reach your
destination until that day. When those doors open Stoney took off like a shot
out of that deathtrap of an elevator and I was transported to a scene from a
creepy thrasher picture from the 80’s.
Long hallways were to my left and right, at the end of both
one window. The glass of the window in the direction of my room was visibly broken. The carpet, a dark color meant to mask any stains or spills,
had been there so long (and probably not shampooed in years) was covered grim
and dirt. Walking toward my room I noticed an area in the hallways that read
Ladies, Men and Unisex. Were the bathrooms and showers commons areas?
When I opened my room door I found my answer. I had rented a
hostel. Nothing here except the essentials: a twin bed with prison bedding, a
plain 4 legged desk, a 15inch television and an armoire with 3 hangers and two
drawers. I had a window at least. I opened the ancient window to let out the
stuffy hostel smell and let in the smell of the Ocean. From my room I had a
clear an unobstructed view of my car. This was a relief because most of my
belongings were still inside of it.
The number of flaws I picked out in this hostel were nothing
in comparison to the many thanks I gave to my Creator for delivering me from
all the dangers that were ever present and still crouching at the door.
CHRISTMAS DAY 2015
Christmas day was filled with attempts of progress and
productivity. I needed to find a new
tire, a rim and permanent residency. I picked the worse day of the year to try
this of course no one is working anywhere. I spent the bulk of my day speaking
to my family and friends recounting my own personal rendition of the Wizard of
Oz. Where I’m Dorothy, Stoney is Toto and Shady the Wicked Witch of the West.
My family, my mother and my Aunt Bonnie, tried to talk me
into going back to Kansas. But once my mind is made up nothing can change it
but me! They didn’t understand how badly I hated Kansas. How happy I was to be
in California. How I shed dead weight of my past on the ride here. How seeing
the Ocean calmed my spirit even more than the love of my life, Music. I
literally cried like a baby when either of them suggested it. I just didn’t
want to.
To me going to Kansas would have indicated inadequacy, and
poor decision making and I would count it as a failure. I hadn’t even been gone
a month!!! It was out of the question. I had resolve and some well-meaning
people in my life encouraged me to brave the storm and wait for the sun. I was
all for it! I could see light at the end of the tunnel. Even if that light was
a train!
I found online, a fully furnished extended stay hotel in the
bayside area. In fact, right around the corner from where I was currently
staying. Donut or no donut I had to
check this place out. $127.00 weekly! I’d been searching since Monday night and
I had never seen a price so sweet! I drove my car less than 2 blocks away from
500 West in the direction of this extended stay. What I seen shook me to my
core.
Two city blocks lined with tents make shifting as homes for
the dwellers what I can only describe as a Tent City. Occupied by every walk of
life you could imagine: White, Black, Mexican, Asian, Drunk, Sober, High,
Younger, Older, Middle-aged, and Elderly.
As I circled this city block I had to take video of what I saw. This was definitely not an example of shiftless people who
just didn’t want to get a job. These were citizens that you could see once had
a measure of quality of life and for one reason or another lost that.
I pulled up to the extended stay hotel and realized: this is
designed for the homeless. Someone is charging the homeless $127 weekly for a
room. That’s over $500 a month. It’s was disheartening and a wakeup call that
bad things happen to good people.
In that moment I
decided Kansas ain't looking so bad. I’m going home. My mother was relieved to
hear it and so was my Aunt Bonnie. For me it was still a bittersweet feeling.
Although finally I had a solution and could lay most of worries to rest still,
a big part of me wanted to pursue a new life. At least, there was finally a
safe solution to my unsafe problem.
DECEMBER 26, 2015
I had about $120 from
left from my Father and Jacquie and still needed to replace that rim and tire;
couldn’t very well make it to back to Kansas on a donut. I spent the day at
salvage yards looking for what I needed. $80.00 it cost me. Which left me with
about $40.00. Michael had secured gas money for me to travel home with. While
awaiting the wire transfer, my blood begins to boil a bit and I call Shady for
kicks and giggles.
“Hey Shady. Where are you?”
“At McDonald’s having breakfast with the kids.”
“I’ve decided to go home and I wondered if you could give me
140 to go home.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Dude you get $2000 in 4 days”
“That would leave me with 200 for the next 4 days with 2
kids…Nah man”
I thought: “Ohhhhhhhh today you’re a responsible mom? You
don’t pay your rent for 2 months, for whatever reason, and today you choose to
be responsible?”
She then says:
“I was going to send you a message on Facebook before I
realized you blocked me. I wanted to say… you keep talking about what I did
Angel but what about you? You didn’t come here with any money?”
Boy was she
right about that. I did not have a nest egg nor did I have emergency funds.
Even if I had though I still wouldn’t have been properly prepared in any other
way to be evicted. That was my argument:
“WHAT DOES THAT MATTER YOU WERE EVICTED!!! I’VE A JOB THAT
STARTS ON MONDAY…”
Those words fell on deaf ears. She hung up the phone on me.
No matter what end of the stick I beat her with, I could see her error. But I
couldn’t deny mine. My mother always said to me the old saying “God bless the
child that’s got his own.”
That emotionally intelligent Angel went out the window
momentarily and all I could think of was to drive to where she was at and ask
her nicely:
“Are you suuurrre?? Are you suuuure you want someone who is
desperate, and who you screwed over in the city with you?” Had her answer been anything
other than “You’re right... Here is some gas money” I was going to take my own
brand of justice out on her car. All Windows and lights would have had to be
replaced in addition to 4 flat tires.
My cooler head prevailed and I realized this whole ordeal
could get a lot worse if I end up an inmate in San Diego county correctional
facility.
Love in the nick of time, my mother phoned and said Michael
had wired the money for me to go home. I picked up the money, topped of my tank
and headed back east. I thought a lot during that first hour of the drive.
Everything swirled in my head. I replayed everything; my part in it, her part in
it...once it got to be too much I drowned it out with Jimmie Hendricks. But
even Jimmie couldn’t fix what was coming next.
Here I am cruising in mountains about
an hour east of San Diego, 4000 feet elevation, when I hear this God Awful
clicking noise, followed by a God awful grinding noise, coupled with a few
violent jolts, a sound of something hitting the ground under my car accompanied
with billowing smoke from under my hood. I looked at my phone…no signal….hitting the brakes up here
on this mountain was out of the question. I let the car roll until it couldn’t
roll any more. After all who wants to be stuck atop a mountain all night with
no cell signal? My car pressed forward for about 2 miles down the mountain into
a desert valley to an exit in Ocotillo California, on Federal Highway. A very
small town.
At this stop was nothing except a Chevron gas station and
what looked like someone’s home/junkyard. When the car finally stopped moving I
had cellular signal and called my mother and told her the news. She couldn’t
believe it. I feel like part of her may have thought I had taken the gas money
and decided to stay.
My mother was frantic. I was at least 100 miles east of San
Diego, about 27 miles west from the nearest town and less than 20 minutes north
of the Country of Mexico. Dangerous territory indeed. I asked the gas station
attendant if she know any local mechanics, her answer:
“Nope” So I rephrased:
“You don’t know one person in this town who works on cars?”
“Nope” I decided to give the junkyard a try. As I walked over to
it, a tow truck pulled up. The Mexican man inside asked me:
“You need some help?”
“Yes I need help please. I’m trying to make it home and my
car stalled!”
“Where’s home? “
“Kansas.”
“Whoa that’s a long way!”
“Indeed.”
“I can take a look at it if you want?”
“Yes please!”
He wasn’t underneath my car long before he discovered a
gaping hole in my oil pan…the sound I heard on the mountain of something
falling beneath my car was a piston that fell out of engine.
Translation:
A whole new motor was
needed. Even a salvaged one would cost me close to $1300 for parts and labor.
That was out of the question.
The tow truck man proved to be quite the heaven sent Angel.
He was living proof that the Creator “causes to become.” Meaning he can use any
person to carry out His will. This man offered to take me and Stone to the
nearest town with a hotel, El Centro California. His boss (and baby brother)
wouldn’t allow him to tow my car for free so I had resolved to just cut my
losses and leave Betsy on the side of the road.
Joe the Tow
man helped me get all my things out my car and inside the cab of his Tow truck.
As I settled in the cab and got Stone settled in, I got a text from Michael:
“Take a picture of everything! His face, the tags (license
plate), the name of the tow truck company. For safety.”
So I did. Then, I buckled in and thanked God AGAIN that he
had AGAIN delivered from a bad situation. Joe latched up my luggage to his tow
truck as I contemplated the bill that highway patrol would impose for
impounding this car; easily upwards of $1500. Just as I made peace with that Joe goes to enter his cab and
Stoney loses it. He snaps at the man, bears teeth and growls like Kudjoe! The
man jumps back in fear and looks at me and says:
“I can take you but I don’t feel comfortable with that dog
sitting behind me.”
“Please Stoney has to go with me I can’t leave him here…he’s
really a nice dog…he wouldn’t bite you...”
“I don’t know…he’s looking at me kind of funny.”
I made efforts to calm Stoney to no avail. It’s like I wasn’t
even there. Stoney had made up his own mind and he didn’t like Joe. Tow Joe said:
“You understand my position right?”
“I do…but he has to go with me you understand my position
right?”
His looked changed from insistent to understanding and then
a light bulb went off in his head he said:
“I got an idea. Hang on.”
Joe closed the cab
door and makes a phone call. While he is talking on the phone. I’m talking to
Stoney:
“Stoney why are you being mean? He’s here to help us…”
Stoney made no eye contact with me, as if to indicate that he didn’t care what
I was talking about and he didn’t want this guy near us. Stoney is a lot of
things but a stubborn dog he’s not. He had his reasons, though he kept them
secret from me, I would shortly find out. The cab door flies open and Joe says:
“Come here...” Afraid to enter into
his own cab now, I accommodate him. I step out the truck and walk to the front.
Joe says:
“This is the deal we gonna go halfsies…is that okay?”
“Halfsies?”
“Yeah Halfsies… on the car… I sold the car for $150?”
“So you get $75?”
“Yeah. That’s okay right?”
I thought briefly: Leave it here…get impounded… and get no
money for it… and a $1500 bill from Highway Patrol…Can’t fix it... don’t have
the $1300. Or sell Betsy for $150 to the only person around right now willing
to buy it without me having the title on me. I agreed.
“Now Stoney can ride in the Corolla!” said Joe. Betsy was then hitched up on the tow Truck with Stoney
inside of it. Before pulling off Joes says:
“You want a cigarette?”
Now, normally I don’t smoke cigarettes. I lean more towards
herbal remedies if you get me. But I accepted the offer. Then Joe says (in a
THICK ACCENT):
“I don’t have no weed. Or I’d offer you some (remember this
isn’t uncommon in California) But I gotta line.”
See I heard him but I DIDN’T UNDERSTAND HIM. So I laughed it
off like :
“Yea ok.”
You guys know what I
mean, that awkward laugh where someone said something you didn’t understand but
really you don’t care what they are talking about so you just agree? Surprised
and delighted he replied:
“Wanna do a line...wanna bump?”
I thought to myself: What is he asking me???
Line…..
Bump….
….
OHHHHH Cocaine… No wonder Stoney didn’t like him!
With as much coolness as I could muster, which wasn’t very
much, I said:
“OH no. No thank you I don’t do Cocaine...” to which he replied gently:
“Ok… well I’m gonna go to this bathroom
(inside Chevron) you gotta go?”
“No I’m alright”
He jumps out the cab and returns in about 2 mins....HIGH AS A KITE!! Sniffing repeatedly, eyes bugged, amped up
off of Cocaine! His hands wet he gets in the car and slicks back his hair
repeatedly while sniffing:
*Sniff* “You ready?” *sniff, sniff* I was in shock and
couldn’t respond immediately:
*Sniff* “You ready to go?”
I surveyed his face and my options of course. Taking a closer look at his face just right
underneath his nostrils; RED and RAW. This man is a regular user! And this man
is also my only way out of this desert.
“Yes” I replied and persevered in silent mental prayer:
“Lord I know I test your patience. You’ve been with me this
far please don’t leave me now with Tow Joe the Cokehead…”
The ride was riddled with small talk and rounds of awkward
silences. That silence was broken by a statement that sent shivers down my
spine.
“I need to stop by my place first to get keys to my truck.”
I’m thinking exactly what you are right now! NO! But what position am
I in to tell him what to do with his truck. He could kick me out the cab and
rode off into the sunset with my car all my material possessions and my fur
baby Stoney. He lived in a small town called Seely about 10 miles from El
Cento. He’s showing me landmarks while driving to his home. We pull up to his
house, it’s fenced in and locked, but he didn’t pull
inside the fence. He hopped out and went inside.
Nervously, I’m doing my best
be observant of my surroundings. A man comes out of a second house behind the
fence with 2 small Chihuahuas following behind him. He’s yelling in Spanish
across to Joe seemingly intense. I see Joe come out of his home arms full. I
couldn’t make out what he was carrying until he got in the cab. His arms were
full of food he brought out chips, soda, and fruit; a banana and something that
looked like a tomato. How thoughtful! I
had been through so much, I still hadn’t had a decent meal. And that day I had
nothing to eat at all. I helped him set the food down.
“That’s my Dad.” He
said pointing to the man that came out of the second house. He offered me any of the food. I picked up
the red fruit.
“You want it?”
“Is it a Tomato?”
“It’s a Persimmon.”
“I’ve never had one before, is it sweet?”
“Yeeeeaaah really good”
I bit into it. It was soft like a Tomato, juicy like a
Peach, and sweet like a Strawberry. In one word it was delightful.
The trip to El
Centro with Tow Joe passed without incident. When we arrived at The Super Star
Inn his mechanic friend was already there to buy my car. The owners of the Inn were kind, respectable people who knew
my situation and were very protective with me. They watched as I unloaded the
cab of my things and put them in my room. The owner even came to my car before
they drove off and asked me if I got everything out and if I was okay. I told
him yes then…. I sold my car for $150...$75 really because I went “halfsies”
with Joe the Cokehead Tow truck driver.
Honestly, I wasn’t angry about having to sell my car. I
wasn’t angry about the car blowing up on my way back to Kansas, I wasn’t even
angry that California didn’t work out. I was only, exhausted. When I entered my room I immediately called mom to let her
know I was safe and to give my hotel info then I showered, got in bed, put my
phone on silent, pulled the covers all the way over my head and slept like a
rock. I was awakened by the hotel room phone. I’m thinking it has to
be mom no one else would try to reach me here. I answered and on the other side
a familiar voice:
“AYYYE How you doiinnng?” it was Tow Joe.
“Hey Joe I’m fine thanks what’s up?”
“Well I wanted to know if you’re hungry.”
“No, no thank you.” As I spoke to him I looked at my phone
giving me the missed call signals. 15 missed calls from my mother and my aunts
trying to reach me.
“Well you want to go get something to drink?”
“No, no thank you I’m very tired” Though I was hungry I
looked at Stoney and realized he’s probably hungry too. But where’s his food?
On Joes tow truck.
“I did leave Stones food and Doggy dishes on your truck though.”
“Hey ok I’m not far I’ll bring it right over…maybe you can
put the dog in the bathroom and we can hang out a while…”
Translation: DANGER DANGER DANGER
He’d been kind today, a gentleman even, other than the whole
Cocaine thing. But that wasn’t something I was prepared to overlook and become
friends with this guy. My answer was simply:
“I’ll see you when you get here.” As I waited for Joe. I
returned my mom’s call.
“Neenee, Michael decided we are going to come get you.”
My heart was so warm with love. Only Parents would show that
amount of love. To take a 1300 plus mile trip just to pick someone up and turn right
around and drive another 1300 miles. Worried about me, she warned me of the dangers of the sex
trade, and how rampant it was near the area I was in. She cautioned me to stay
inside the hotel except in the day to let out Stoney and to take him with me
when I went out to get food. I heeded her cautions although I didn’t take them
to heart.
In one of my final days held up in the Hotel in El Centro, I
was craving real food. I noticed a restaurant named “Guadalupe’s” and I
realized: I’m 30 minutes from Mexico I bet that's some authentic style food. As
Stoney and I crossed the street the smell from the restaurant carried us toward
it. I tied Stone outside and went in. I stood at the door for a moment taking
in the decor all around me. I would be able to tell you all about the colors,
trim, lamps, pictures, everything… had what I saw next not commanded my
attention.
A flyer on the Door that read:
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PERSON?
LAST SEEN A MONTH AGO IN THE EL
CENTRO AREA HEADED TO SAN DIEGO.
The details described a 37 year old woman. But the picture
is what resounded in me. She was beautiful, smiling, and clearly full of life
and did I mention she was beautiful. I thought of my mother, how panicked she
had been since this all began. I couldn’t even imagine how my mother would
respond if this had my name, picture and details on it.
At that moment I counted myself blessed. So many near
misses, so many things that could’ve gone oh so very wrong. After that moment I stocked up on food
returned to my room and never left that hotel, other than to let the dog out,
until Mom and Michael arrived.
DECEMBER 30, 2015
Mom and Michael arrived but Mom had no desire to stay in El
Centro so as soon as everything was crammed in the car. We headed east toward
the flat lands. Where initially I felt embarrassed about the entire venture,
frustrated about going back to Kansas and counted it as the ultimate fail; that
ride home gave me ample time to contemplate my part in the entire situation, to
plan my next steps when I got back to Kansas, to reflect on the obvious Hand Of
God that kept me safe through the entire situation. I expected to hear from
family and dear friends: I told you so…or… Why didn’t you do this or that?
What I got was support and reassurance that everything was
alright and what wasn’t alright would be. That I was not stupid, as I had felt,
for packing up my entire life; but Brave beyond compare for having the courage
and taking the steps…even if I missed a few.
New Years Day 2016
I rode back into Wichita, Kansas January 01, 2016 safe and
sound and with people who loved me. And, though I suffered many losses, grateful
and appreciative for the riches I had in my loved ones: First and foremost The
Grand Creator, My Mother, my Father, Brother, Michael, Jacquie, Aunts, Uncles,
and a many close friends who encouraged and supported me in every way they were
able to during this Relocation turned Vacation from Hell.
I told this story to a few close friends, who usually all
had the same type of response: Mouths hung open in shock, surprise and dismayed the entire time. At the end they all
said write it down. So here it is.
I’ve been home in Kansas for 2 weeks, my new job starts on
Monday. Maybe now that I’ve shed the old painful skin on the ride to Cali, I
can take in Kansas with new eyes. After all, I make more at my new job than I
did my last AND the hours are muuuuuuuuch better. Plus, this is a job that I
can transfer. So who knows maybe in a while I’ll try it again but with a
different spin.
I almost forgot Shady called me last week, She said:
"I just want you to know, that things haven't been
working out for me either." to which I replied:
"You misunderstand me. I don't wish ill on anyone. I'll
never forget what you did in California but I'm over that."
As if we were
still friends, she began to tell me the details of how stressed she is and how
things are going wrong. Can you believe that she called me for emotional
support. And you know what I did?...gave it to her,
I gave her the same amount of support she gave me in
California....Picking up what I'm putting down??
P.S
As I typed my final sentence Michael comes into the room to
give me my mail. Inside a speeding ticket I got while driving to Cali. In a
small and insignificant Town of Star Valley Arizona. It’s less than 10 miles
long and probably only makes its money by bogus traffic tickets… 11 miles
over…$212…Icing on this cake.
This trip is still trying to kick me in the ass!
-Vannique
Thank for reading
hope you enjoyed the story more than I enjoyed living it.
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