Chapter Three

We got into a town whose name I don’t remember. Just like everyone else we were looking for work, but first and foremost we were looking for food. There is always the big box corporation store to go to, but that’s not a viable option for us. If I were to shop there I’d be no better than those who ran it and rob the common person of their decent job. Frank and I tried to explain it to Bobby. “You see kid, when you buy something from there you are supporting them, sure it may be cheap but as long as people keep thinking that they’re gonna keep enslaving desperate workers with minimum wage. We always buy local.” I have always liked the way Frank set things out, this is what happens and why. “Every empire must fall.” I chimed in quietly quoting an old magazine article from my youth.

Pulling into an old mom and pop looking grocery store we see the familiar signs of poverty. An old blind man sits in a rocking chair in front of the store welcoming everyone he hears walk onto the old weathered wooden porch, while young children play simple games with whatever they could find, kicking up the dry dirt. A young girl runs up to Bobby who is holding Shakespeare close to his chest. She’s screaming over this cat like a mother probably would after losing her child. Frank and I walk into the store leaving the boy outside to deal with the enthused children. I hate kids. “You think he’ll give the cat to em?” I asked frank. “Maybe, Maybe not. Now should he give it to em is the real question.” We idly discussed the pros and cons of giving a little girl a living, breathing animal to take care of as we shopped around for foodstuffs.

At the register a tired looking middle-aged woman rang us up. It was the only checkout aisle but we didn’t have to wait because we were the only ones there. She gave a smile and I could see the many lines in her face that were the toll of raising children. I immediately felt sorry for this woman. Filling in the blanks in my head. I bet her husband had left her to raise the kids by herself, Taking care of her blind father. What a horrible thing to have to go through. Or perhaps her husband is in the back. And that is simply some bored old man out there passing the time. I don’t know.

We paid for our groceries and walked outside where we found Bobby watching the kids playing with the cat. Bobby watched them like a father may watch his kid playing tee ball. Putting the bags in the car we asked bobby if he was going to give away his new friend to these kids. He said he may or may not. “I’m gonna ask their mother if it would be alright.” Just as he started walking towards the grocery store, the first girl who had initially ran up to bobby started stomping an anthill as if she was it’s god smiting them for no reason other than amusement. Bobby gave the child a disgusted look and picked up the cat, walking back towards the car and us. Half of the kids groaned in disappointment, the other half didn’t even notice.

“He deserves better than that.” bobby declared. “She obviously hasn’t learned what love truly is.” Just as I placed the key in the ignition Frank chimed in with his ten cents, “and do you claim to know what love truly is Bobby?” the car was now idling in this dirt parking lot, I just hoped an argument didn’t pursue. “Love is giving when you don’t receive. It’s giving your all when you know you might have even more taken from you.” And with that he sat back holding Shakespeare close to his chest and making tsking noises. “Well we have to learn how to do that somehow, you’re not just born into being a grassroots hippy. Maybe that cat was just what she needed,” retorted frank. They were both silent for what seemed hours. I threw the car into drive and took off, breaking the silence. “It’s a fucking cat guys. Chill.” It got quiet and all eyes turned to the road.

We saw signs for a local park, and we decided we could go park the car there, eat, and do some exploring on foot. Somewhere in our brief spat, a fly had gotten into the car. The insistent buzzing was enough to drive me mad. We kept trying to shoo it out of the window but where we wanted it to go it went the opposite. Finally we arrived at the park that was a beacon of green in the middle of a sea of weeds and dirt. Finally we rolled down the window and tried to coax it outside. Finally I got too fed up with these trivialities, “God damnit I don’t even care. It cans stay in one place if it wants.” I retreated to a bench with bread, some jerky, and a bottle of water. I don’t know why but it seems like the only thing that can really piss me off are the small things. I never did understand that.

The other guys shortly joined me there on that bench. It was inscribed with all sorts of things with different sorts of edges. Names, dates, proof of existence. I took out my knife I’ve always carried since I turned 18 and carved something of my own. We ate and discussed our plan of action. We were going to walk about the town, see if we could find some work and possibly some cheap housing depending on how long our stay here lasted. We made sure the car was locked; Bobby took the cat with so he didn’t die of heat exhaustion. We grabbed the little money we had and walked towards the downtown. I don’t know if my mark is still in that table but I know that I was there.

We knew by now that the roots of any town reside in the bars. People from across town will come down and have a drink and talk with the folks from the other side of town. They are the central nervous system of any small community; if there is work open they will know about it. They’ll also know who’s cheating on who, what the weathers supposed to be like tomorrow, and why they aren’t a lot richer. The trick is learning to sift through all the bullshit presented to you. We found a small non descript bar that could have been in any town in the United States. Opening the door we noticed it seemed it was overly crowded for five O’clock.