c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(7-24)
The night was cool but comfortable, as dean McCray continued to trek westward, toward Ohio and his home base in Geauga County. At a quick-serv depot along the way, he picked up a 12-pack of Piels lager, something he remembered a friend referencing as a favored, budget brew during younger days. Sports writer Jimmy Breslin used to call it ‘a good drinking beer’ in commercials that ran in the 1970’s. It was a last attempt to carry home some kind of souvenir from his journey. A tangible keepsake to help him stay connected, even if only for the time spent consuming this retro beverage. He stashed it in a cooler, nestled in the tail of his Ford Bronco. A prize hidden under luggage, dirty clothes, copies of the Ithaca Times, empty boxes from Pudgie’s Pizza, and vinyl albums purchased at local collector’s stores.
He drove past Cold Spring, Randolph, Kennedy, Falconer, and the population center of Jamestown. Then Bemus Point, Sherman, and north of Findley Lake. Finally, he had reached the Pennsylvania border. This demarcation made him breathe heavily, while pondering that it would be his last escape. He had run out of reasons to go back. Out of friends, out of ideas, and perhaps, out of hope.
The last leg of his adventure was a silent slog across nebulous vistas of interstate pavement. He turned off the radio, and listened to wind howling through his open windows. Mile after mile ticked away on the odometer. He had turned numb, and stiff. His fingers ached from holding the steering wheel. His right foot dipped low without purpose, as the cruise control held its pace. He felt like an astronaut, probing deep into outer regions of nothingness. Swaddled in black, except for occasional points of light that lit his way, under the stars.
Going past Conneaut, in Ohio, he nearly fell asleep. But a merciful ring sounded from his cell phone to provide an intervention by chance. Kiki Krale had arrived at a motel in Madison, after a long day working at one of the travel plazas south of the village. She and other residents of Evergreen Estates who were displaced by the park closure had taken shelter for the moment among travelers and other seekers of anonymity.
Her voice boomed through the 4x4 vehicle, providing a point of focus needed to help him maintain consciousness.
“Dean! I just checked my device, it’s been hectic here. We’re all homeless now, no lie! Nobody has been allowed on the property, they got sheriff’s deputies and the FBI and who-the-eff knows else crawling around. Why’d you stay away so long? Call me back, dammit!”
He pulled over at the TA Travel Center, in Kingsville. Suddenly halting his forward progress exposed the level of his exhaustion. Yet it felt good to step outside of his vehicle, and stretch his legs. When he dialed her number, his voice was hoarse.
“Hey Kee, what are you talking about? Homeless? I don’t get it! What happened in our neighborhood? I’ve only been gone for a few days...”
His fellow resident shrieked and scolded him for being missing-in-action.
“A FEW DAYS? TRY A WHOLE MONTH, AT LEAST, DEANER! YOU DIDN’T CALL OR TEXT OR ANYTHING! NICE JOB ON BEING A TRUE FRIEND, DUDE! DID YOU EVEN WATCH THE NEWS AT ALL, OR READ A PAPER?”
Dean was embarrassed to have been out of the loop for so long.
“Well, no, I was drinking and dive-hopping, you know? There ain’t too many of the old crowd left. But I scoured those streets until a couple of them popped up, guys I knew over 40 years ago. I was drunk and disorderly, so to speak. I flopped at the Diamond Lounge, that’s the nickname we used for Dee Dee’s house. She’s in her 70’s now, it’s really hard to believe. I sat there drinking bourbon and beer, and talking about old memories...”
Kiki snorted at his disinterest in becoming informed.
“You didn’t hear about the assassination attempt when Orange Jesus was praying over his faithful, at a rally north of Pittsburgh?”
Her cohort gagged and coughed loudly.
“Umm, what? An assassination attempt? Like, somebody threw a shoe at him and he couldn’t duck? George W. Bush seemed to handle that just fine...”
She wasn’t amused by his sarcasm.
“NO DUMBASS! A REAL TRY AT TAKING HIM OUT! THERE WAS A SHOOTER ON THE ROOF NEARBY. A BULLET GRAZED HIS EAR! THAT IDIOT KILLED A SPECTATOR AND NAILED TWO OTHERS! HIS SHIT SHOOK UP AMERICA, AND THE WHOLE WORLD!”
Dean felt sick at his stomach.
“Okay, I’ll bite my tongue. No, I didn’t hear any of that, just a report earlier tonight about some kind of fracas at our trailer park. I’m sorry, Kee. The truth is, I’ve been blitzed for however long you say it’s been since I left on vacation...”
Kiki sighed and lowered her tone.
“There was an uprising at the dump where we live. People driving in circles, burning rubber, rolling coal, blasting their truck horns. Somebody called the police because of all the noise, and it got out of hand. You know how it is in that community, lots of flags flying and alcohol flowing. Guns being fired in the air. Fires being set. The township Po-Po couldn’t restore order, so they called in the deputies. Then it became a battle over territory. Things started getting broken, windows, walls, and eventually, teeth and bones! The reporters at Fox 8 News called it another insurrection!”
Her distant contact slumped at his dashboard. He didn’t have the energy to stand, anymore.
“So, they shut down our property? Just like that? Kicked everybody out and put up ‘no trespassing’ signs? You gotta be kidding!”
The young waitress shook her head and began to weep.
“Just like that! I’m rooming with somebody else from my street. It’s still costing us a fortune, though! There’s a legal case over getting us reimbursed. I won’t count on it, nobody gives a shit about people who live in boxcars! We’re invisible! We don’t exist!”
Dean’s eyes were burning. He sat bathed in the neon glow of signage for fuel varieties and fast-food services.
“So, why am I coming home, Kee? What’s the point if I can’t even get to my trailer? When will they lift the lockdown? How long will it take to sort out this mess?”
Kiki wiped her tears and whispered into the phone.
“All I know is you can share this room. I know you’re a gentleman at heart. We all in this together, bruh. That’s what people always say, right? But it’s true. All of us, the whole park, the whole township, the whole state. Dammit, the whole country! We gotta figure things out! It’s time to make peace instead of enemies!”
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