I am in the heart of Dixie. I got hear at 4 am., after a 7 hour bus ride, through which I slept and woke feeling scared and lonely.
Once, I woke because I thought that I felt Karrie kiss my lips.
It was probably the weird guy in the seat next to me who kept coughing.
I slept until sunup at the Greyhound. I was then told to leave, since Mobile was my final destination. It was foggy and I could hear thunder in the distance, as I began to walk in the direction of "downtown." It proved to be a big city, much like Ocala.
I walked in the direction of downtown, stopping behind a church of sorts to hide the heavy tent in the bushes, and then continued on.
I stopped at a store for a Mountain Dew.
The lady was nice, the guy told me to leave my bags up front, and was very curt with his answers to questions about Mobile, in general, and resources for the homeless, in particular.
Goths Find Me
I found a bus stop and was sitting there when a couple of gothic teens, a guy and girl, walked over.
The guy had piercings, like the goths in Mandarin, and, like them, expressed interest in music and a curiosity about my doings.
I played a song on my broken guitar. It was a song that I wrote in St. Augustine when I had broken the "g" string, called "My Favorite Horse."
They then gave me a ride to the library, where I learned that I couldn't come in with my big pack.
I went on a city bus to hide the bag, way out of town near the Guitar Center, where I had to pay 40 bucks for a whole new set of tuning machines, in order to make my guitar playable again of songs other than My Favorite Horse.
On my next to last day in Mandarin, my pick broke while I was playing. Then, when I went to tighten up the g string, the tuning machine broke off in my hand. Then, later on the g string itself broke. All on the same day; my last in Jacksonville.
I left Karrie at the bus stop on Monday. I was thinking that Monday was the first of June, forgetting that 31 days "hath" May.
I got to the Greyhound early enough to correct the mistake and get back to Mandarin, on the last bus out of town. It was raining and I was toting all my stuff. I got back in time to find Karrie asleep on the back porch of the office building. I had taken the tent from the woods. I felt like I was taking her home away as I uprooted it.
Karrie was her most clinging self ever that night. I could hardly sleep because she was arranging my limbs as if I were a Ken doll, and she a Barbie; if Barbie were an octopus.
The next morning, I ran into Dave and Debbie, local homeless, who informed me that Karrie had sat at the bus stop and cried for a long time after my bus left.
She really thought that she had done everything in her power to please me, and that driving a guy to anger is part of a relationship, and so is him yelling at her; it's a healthy way of showing love, in her opinion.
I rode most of the way to Mobile thinking What kind of man doesn't do every thing in his power, beg, borrow or steal, to make sure his girl is by his side, if he really loves her. I felt guilty.
I have found Mobile to be pretty much as advertised.
I now know of 4 places to shower and eat and sleep.
I was told by someone that I will make money on Dauphin Street, and that the cops won't bother me because I am "trying to work for a living."
Right now, I am having a hard time motivating myself.
I was unable to get a bed at the Salvation Army, on such short notice, though I did eat. It was liver and onions, one of Karrie's favorites.
I face the prospect of finding a spot to sleep after I play. I won't have the blanket, because it is in the heavy pack, hidden in the bushes, far from town.
I'm feeling low right now. Oil is washing up upon the island here.