Chapter One

Those days were simpler. There was very little money to be had, so very little problems to also be had. Back when we were on the road there was nothing to worry about but the next turn coming up, where or what we were going to eat, or what the clouds in the sky were up to. I was traveling with two other men in the same situation that I was in. Most men were in this situation. College graduates have become the high school dropouts of our time. Traveling the lonesome crowded roads back then was bobby, frank, and myself. Bobby was the youngest of us all, still only a teenager he had the most dreams and hopes out of anyone I knew. He never found out that Frank and I knew he had nightmares every time he slept, waking up sweating and gasping or just whimpering in his sleep. He was running from something. Frank was the eldest of us of all. Nearly in his thirties, he was practically a hardened old man. Hard times make hard people. He almost never did anything out of emotion back in those days, always carefully analyzing every situation. We would have starved if it weren’t for him.

We had met from working odd jobs, and worked well together. I had met frank working unloading big rigs back in Salem. He had a car and I had some money saved up in my pocket. After some time we learned to trust each other, which is something most people take for granted. Trust is worth something when everything worldly is so out of reach. Unloading semi trucks is boring repetitive work that doesn’t pay well at all. You start to think of these things you are unloading; hats, TVs, food, as your own. You are responsible for their well being for a short period of time. It’s only a matter of time before you start feeling entitled to them. That’s when the stealing started. Frank and I were never taking anything for profit, just for ourselves. “Hey mike how do you think this flat screen would look in the apartment?” Frank would ask me. Out of place I thought to myself. We had moved in together in this shitty apartment complex to split the rent. It worked well with out similar schedules and it was cheap. It was cheap because places like that are meant for people on drugs or selling drugs. We were the only level headed folks on the block. Sometimes our landlord would be so fucked up he’d forget to collect rent or in such a bind he would try collecting it early. It got easier to just ignore him and slip the rent under his door.

After a few months of working at unloading the trucks, the bosses were noticing things were going missing. Everyone was doing it, and it was no secret. The difference was that the others were doing it for profit, taking more than they needed. Their greed got the better of them and they ruined it for us all. We started to notice more people on the loading docks, People with ties and clipboards. They would randomly ask you your name and then make a check on their sheets of paper. No one knew for certain what it was they were writing down but everyone had a good idea of what it was. One week the familiar faces of the docks started to disappear one by one to be replaced by scared looking kids just out of high school. Frank and I knew our time was almost up and decided if we were going to leave, it should be on our own terms. So on that last Friday everything that could be placed into our pockets we took whenever the men in ties and hard hats were not looking. After picking up our final checks from the trucking company frank and I hopped in the car, picked up the few things we needed or could sell from the apartment, and skipped out on the rent. I wonder if the dealers just ended up killing the landlord? Oh well, nothing to dwell upon.

Frank was always making plans, “I’m telling you mike we’ll just drive to the city, go down town, and start talking to folks who look like tourists. Those people love buying cheap shit off the streets. It’s part of the whole city experience.” He was right. “Frank, I figure you’re right.” And he was. We sold all of our stolen merchandise for very reasonable prices, for ourselves and for the customers. It was a win win situation. Not for the company of course missing their goods, but they aren’t worrying about what their next meal is going to be.

We decided to drive to the coast on search of any kind of jobs we could find. That is when we met Bobby. Just a starving kid sleeping on a bus stop bench, trying to gather change for a bus ticket or hitch a ride any where. We had enough to help ourselves, but decided that we needed another person to drive. I don’t know why we were in such a hurry. I guess we imagined paradise just being around the next corner. We were right and wrong in a way I suppose. Bobby never said where he was from, what his parents were like, or what his favorite food was. But we knew he was smart. When you talked, he listened. That’s rare these days, most young people just want to get in what they have to say and shut out everything else. How the hell are you supposed to learn like that?

Every few cities or so we would stop and look for some temporary work as janitors, dishwashers, or such. The world will always need someone to hand them food through a window. At least that is what my Shakespeare teacher once told me. He is right. Nobody wants to the grunt work. Nobody wants to clean up after themselves. Fine by me as long I’m paid to do so. Janitorial work is by far one of the easiest of jobs of all the menial tasks, but it is extremely humiliating. Frank, Bobby, and myself would get into work at about six in the evening, everyone is mostly cleared out by then. We would do about an hour or so of cleaning and then just dick around or sleep until two in the morning then clock out and go sleep in the car. We would keep jobs like this for about a week or so and move on.

One of these particular nights, in some sleepy town on the west coast, we found ourselves sitting side by side on the floor, leaning up against a wall. Some large map was rolled out at our feet, we had just decided upon our next plan of action. Or rather Frank had and we agreed that it was the best option. None of us said anything, but just sat there enjoying the silent understanding. “I ran away from home.” Said Bobby ever so timidly. “We know kid”, Frank said, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” But we all knew that he wanted to. Some things you can’t just keep to yourself forever. “My father skipped out on my mother and I when I was born. I was never meant to be. It was my fault that my mother had to work two jobs and raise a son. If it hadn’t been for me she’d still be happily married. It got to the point where she couldn’t provide for her and I both, so I figured the best thing to do was just leave so she didn’t have to worry anymore. She’ll never have to worry anymore.” By this point his sobs were shaking his body violently. Frank and I looked at each other, knowing that there was nothing we could say to make him feel any better. I just wrapped my arm around his shoulder and held onto him. None of us said anything, but just sat there understanding the silence.