Davenport, Florida

     Brian slowly let the smoke escape his mouth.  It danced around his nose in thick streams, passed his pale blue eyes and began to dissapate when it reached his brassy blonde hair.  He was staring at nothing in particular, rather contemplating the life ahead and the life behind him. One hour earlier he had finally had it out with his foster parents Glenn and Gina.
     He had come home from "The Seafood Junkie" where he washed dishes full time. He hated his job. He was a drop out, and although he had his G.E.D., he was short on options.  When he got home he went to his room to add the nights divedends to his savings which he kept in an old brown Maxwell House coffee can.  When he opened the coffee can he saw that $800 was missing he immediately suspected Glenn.  Enraged, he ran down the hall and slammed open door and angrily shouted, "Where the fuck is it"? 
     Glenn sat up in his bed and calmly replied, " I figured you owe it to me for rent for the past 18 years."
     "I was saving that money so I could move the fuck out of here and away from you two", Brian replied.
     With his anger growing rapidly Brian charged at Glenn with full force connecting his foot to Glenns chest.  The blow knocked Glenns head against the head board and made a loud knock.  Gina, who was trying to avoid the confrontation and pretended to sleep through it, finally stirred.
     "What the hell are you doing, Brian?"
     "He stole my money! Don't pretend you don't know! Go back to sleep and stay out of it! Youre good at that! I'm out of this fucking shithole." 
     "Good", Gina replied, "You've never been a part of this family anyways".
     "Yah, you two have made that clear all of my life"!
     Gina put her hand on Glenns chest and asked him if he was ok.  Glenns head was still spinning a bit but suggested he was fine. He wearily got up and headed towards Brian's room. Brian was packing some of his clothes and other personal belongings into his backpack. Most importantly, he picked up his golden harmonica, which was the only thing he had to remind him of his real father. Brian heard Glenn moving towards his room and turned around so that he could be ready for any retaliation. Glenn came to the doorway and said, "Get the hell out, loser.  You're not welcome here anymore."
     Brian stoutly replied, "I've never been welcomed here. Fuck you Glenn!"
     Brian made his way towards the door.  Glenn let him pass, and with his back turned he took a cheap shot and punched Brian in the cheek at a sideward angle. Brian fell against the wall onto his knees.  Glenn harshly said, "Now we're even."
     Brian collected himself, and on his way back up he charged Glenn and pushed him down the hall until he was stopped by the drywall.   Glenn's entire torso went through the drywall and his body fell limp.  Brian said, "We'll never be even."  and then picked up his back pack and stormed out the door. He headed for his best friend, John's house.
     
                                                                                                        * * * * *

​

     When he arrived, he told John everything about the events that had taken place. John showed empathy and told him that he could crash there until he figured out what he was going to do. During their discussion, John pulled out his stash and rolled a decent sized joint. 
     "All I know is, I've gotta get outta here...maybe I'll go find my uncle in Vegas. I could hop trains.  I only have $200, and I know that it won't get me too far, but I can make money playing harmonica... I have to do something.  I can't take this town any more."
     "Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, man....  It'd probably be a lot of fun...  I'll tell you what, you can have the rest of my weed, man.  It's only about a quarter, but it should come in handy. It's all I can offer you."
    "Thanks, man.  That's really cool of you.  You're my only true friend and I love you, man...  I just want you to know that."
     John smiled and said, "All gay shit aside, I love you too."
     Brian laughed and John returned his laughter.  
     "Well, Brian, I wish you all the luck in the world. You deserve it."
     "Thanks, bro".
    "Sorry to cut it short but I gotta be up at 5 A.M.."
     "Cool, man. Sleep good and thanks again."
     "You too, Brian. you know the drill. Make yourself at home bro."
     John headed off to his room. When Brian heard his door close he reached over and turned off the lamp. He tried to fall asleep but his mind was racing.  It was 3 A.M. before he finally dozed off.
                                                                                               
                                                                                                       * * * * *

​

     Brian woke up at about 11:00 A.M., left a note for John and headed toward the train yard.  He planned to wait for the sun to go down before trying to sneak into an open freight car to avoid the watchful eyes of security guards and conductors. There was plenty of time to kill so Brian stopped at a Quick Stop and stocked up on provisions for his trip. He got some beef jerky, a box of powdered donuts, 2 cans of Pringles and an assortment of candy bars.  Also a cup of black coffee for the time being. After stowing his newly acquired provisions he found a comfortable corner outside and began to play his harmonica. He never had any lessons but he was still a very fluent player.  
Nearly everyone turned their head to see where the raspy melodies were coming from. In the middle of one of Brian's more bluesy numbers, a voice interuppted him.  "Where do I put the money?  Don't you have a hat or something"?
     "Oh..I guess not", Brian quizzically responded, "but you can just throw it on the ground if you like".  
     "Sounds really good.  Is that your own tune"?, asked the man.
     "Yes, it is".
     "Keep up the good work".
     "Yes, definitely, sir".
     At that the older gentleman removed a $10 bill from his faded brown leather wallet, crumbled it up and threw it on the ground in front of Brian.  Brian thanked him and continued to play.  As the day passed, Brian raked in $36 and some loose change. He was quite happy with his earnings.
     At about 9:30 Brian walked down the track and away from the depot so he could find a spot to survey the scene. Fifteen minutes later a train began to roll. Brian became very excited.   Brian spotted a freight car with it's door open about two feet.  He made sure
no one was looking and ran for the open door.  He grabbed a long handle bar that garnished the door and pulled himself in. When he was in the freight car, he peered out the door to make sure no one saw him.  When he saw that he was unnoticed, he made himself comfortable and sat down behind a large wooden crate.He decided to roll a joint in celebration of his victory.  He smoked about half of it, then spat on his fingers and soaked the burning cherry in the small puddle of spit until it went out.  After putting the roach back in the bag, he decided  to sit with his feet dangling out the door and enjoy the warm breeze as it blew through his hair and  across his face.  He thought about his past, his future and all of the cruel things that Glenn said to him.  He thought about the bruises Glenn had inflicted upon him and how that was over now.  He began to truly feel happy for the first time in his life.  Brian relished the sounds of the night, the scenery and his new found freedom. He fell asleep around 4:30 a.m.

West Bend, Alabama     
   
     Brian woke the next morning to the sharp sound of the wheels screeching against the tracks.  Adrenaline instantly dispersed throughout his veins and soaked his bloodstream.  Brian knew that he could not be seen  and that he was going to have to jump out before the train reached it's destination.  Brian gathered his backpack and peered out the door of the train. He saw a spot ahead where the edgeline of the grass came a little closer to the tracks and decided he would try to time his jump so that he would land there.  He calculated that he was going to need a running start and took a couple steps back.  He counted to three and leaped out the door.  When he landed he lost his footing on a large rock. His left knee hit first followed by his left elbow just catching the edge of the jagged white and grey rocks.  His body rolled until gravity and the tall grass had taken over. The pain of the injuries did not immediately set in, for all of the adrenaline that was racing through his body.  He looked at his knee and saw bone peering out of the skin. He became very light headed and layed back in the tall grass.  He also noticed a gash in his forearm and many other scrapes. He decided to rip a few strip bandages off of his flannel shirt to wrap his wounds until he could get somewhere to really clean them up.  
     He got up and started to limp towards the depot.  Although it was only a half mile or so, the wound on his knee and the hot sun beating down on him made it seem like 5 miles.  Every time he took a step pain would shoot through his leg.
     When he finally arrived he headed directly for the restroom.  By the time he untied the rag from around his knee it was soaked with blood. He gently pulled it off and a stream of blood pulsed from his knee like a weak water fountain.  Brian became woozy but remained conscious and proceeded to rinse his knee and his arm off.  He re-bandaged the wounds with more strips of shirt and decided to head to the Quick Stop across the street so he could try and find some real medical supplies. 

 
                                                                                                    * * * * *
              
     After Brian entered the store he made his way throughout the aisles until he found the medical supplies.  He grabbed some gauze, tape, peroxide, Neosporin and Advil, all of which were way overpriced, (as most items are in convenience stores) and then headed towards the counter.  The clerk, who was dressed in a tie-dyed shirt and had long hair, heavily eyed Brian as he walked towards the counter.  When he got close to the counter the hippie smiled and asked, "Where 
ya headed man"?     
     "How do you know I'm going anywhere?," Brian kindly asked in return.
     "It's not every day that people come in and buy a medicine cabinet full of overpriced pharmaceuticals and bandages", the hippie answered.
     "Yah", Brian replied, "You think they'd throw a joint in with these asprin for $8.95".
     The clerk laughed loudly and said, " You aint jokin' friend, they really gouge you on that stuff".
     The clerk began to ring up the merchandise and interjected with, "Hey man. I got some really good opium if you wanna wait for me to get outta here".
     Brian didn't take long to answer and said, "How long are we talkin"?
     The clerk looked at the clock behind him and turned back to Brian and said, "About 25 minutes".
     "Cool man, I've got some pretty descent green.  I can throw in".
     "Alright! Stellar!...", the clerk calmly said, "Oh your total by the way is $24.36". 
     Brian handed the clerk the money and stated, "My name is Brian by the way.  What's yours"?
     "Oh I'm Steve.  Nice to meet you, Brian."
     "Yah you too, Steve!......Where's the restroom, man? I need to clean these wounds".
     Steve pulled a key down from a nail and handed it to Brian and then pointed toward the back of the store and then told him, "Straight back and to the left".
     "Okay, thanks man, I appreciate it."
     Brian grabbed the merchandise and key and hobbled to the bathroom to clean his wounds.  Brian sat down on the toilet and carefully peeled back the bloodsoaked piece of flannel shirt from his throbbing knee.  He stood up and threw his leg onto the sink, turned on the cold water and rinsed his knee. He administered the peroxide and watched it bubble furiously. He dabbed on some ointment and properly bandaged up his knee and arm with some gauze and medical tape.  After cleaning the up his mess and throwing away the bloody piece of flannel, Brian brushed his teeth and washed his hands and face.
     When he emerged from the bathroom he saw that Steves replacement had arrived and that Steve was walking out from behind the counter.
     "You all done"?, Brian asked as he hobbled toward Steve.
     "Yah man!  You all patched up"?, Steve asked with a nod.
     "Yah much better".
     "Well let's go then".
     Brian and Steve headed out the door and got into Steve's rusted 89 Ford Escort.
     "It's not much but it gets me where I need to go".
     "It's better than no car", Brian replied.
     After several tries, Steve finally got the car started.
     "So, can you bring me back up here later on tonight" ?
     "Oh, no problem.....So, what happened to your leg, if you don't mind my asking?"
     "I was jumping off a train and I took a nasty spill on some rocks" Brian expained.
     "Ouch!  Sounds painful"
     "Yah, it was".
     Steve took a drag off of his cigarette and said, "So you never told me where you're headed."
      "Oh yah.  I'm headed to Las Vegas.  My uncle lives out there."
     "Oh...So that explains why you're jumping trains....Sounds like a hell of an adventure!"
     "Yah, it's been  pretty interesting so far."
     The beaten up Escort sputtered into an apartment complex and stopped at a parking block.  Steve turned the key but the car coninued to sputter in spurts and didn't cease for a few seconds.  Steve and Brian both stared at the hood of the car as if in anticipation of it blowing up.
     When the car was finally at rest, Steve calmly said, "Good girl" and patted the dashboard.
     Brian laughed and Steve returned his laughter. As the laughter subsided Brian said, "For the sake of my knee, I hope you live on the bottom floor."
     While shutting the car door, Steve replied, "Ya man!'.  Stairs would probably suck for ya."
     After fidgeting with his many keys, Steve and Brian got into Steves apartment.
     "You can sit anywhere but the recliner...thats my spot."
     "Thanks, man."
     Brian set his backpack down next to Steves dingy brown sofa and sighed in relief as he sat down and took the weight off of his knee.  He then proceeded to get his marijuana out of his backpack. Meanwhile, Steve went to his room to get changed from his work clothes.  On the way back to his living room he stopped at the fridge. "You wanna beer Brian"?
     "Yah sure!  That sounds great."
     Steve grabbed a couple of "Milwakees Bests" out and opened them in tandem.  As he was entering his living room, he asked, "So you're gonna live with your uncle, huh"?
     "Yah, I've never met him but I did recieve a letter from him once.  I threw away the envelope, so I don't know exactly where he lives but, there can only be so many Dirk Spillwires in one town no matter how big it is, so he shouldn't be too hard to find".
     "Ha Ha....Dirk Spillwire, is that really his name?"
     As Steve sat down he handed a beer to Brian. He replied, "Yah, no shit! Crazy ass name isn't it"?
     Brian  took a large swig off of his beer. 
     "Is that your last name too?"
     "No, I was adopted.  It's the only reason I'm glad to have been adopted."
     "Hah! No offense, but I don't blame you".....So you were adopted?"
     "Yah, my parents are dead, but I'd rather not get into that."
     "Enough said, Brian.  I didn't mean to pry or anything."
     "Oh, it's cool.  Don't worry about it, Steve".
     Steve began to pull a tray out from underneath his coffee table,while Brian took another huge gulp from his beer. Brian glanced over and noticed a little baggie with a white powder with brown sprinkles inside of it.  Brian suspected it was heroin but didn't say anything.  Next to that was a ball of a black tarry substance, which was the opium steve had mentioned, and on the opposite side was a pile of marijuana covered with a pack of rolling papers.  Steve set the tray down and began to pack his pipe with marijuana.
     "I can get that Steve."
     "Ah, don't worry about it Brian.  I got it!....So, have you ever smoked opium before, Brian."
     "Yah, a couple of times."  Brian wanted to sound like an opium connoiseur (a man who knew his drugs), so he added,"It was usually red rock though, but it looks like you have the tar.  Tar is pretty good too."
     "Yah, it smokes longer and it's less expensive."
     "Very true....It tastes like incense too."
     "Yah it does," Steve said with a smile.
     Steve pulled a piece of opium off of the ball and smashed it on top of the weed in the pipe and then handed it to Brian.  Brian picked up the lighter and flicked it. He took a big draw off of the pipe and then handed it back to Steve and exhaled.
     "I love that taste."
     "Yah, me too , Brian."
     Brian finished his beer and crushed the can.  Steve followed suit and did the same.
     "So what time do you need to go back to the station, Brian"?
     "Around 10 o'clock or so."
     "Cool. So, do you play chess"?
     "I'm not very good but I'll take you on".
     Steve put his tray back under the coffee table and pulled out his green and white marble chess board.
     "Does the king or queen go on their own color," Brian inquisitively asked.
     "The queen."
     "Sorry, it's been a while since I've played".
     "Oh that's alright it'll still be fun kickin' your ass!, Steve said jokingly.  Brian laughed
     "You need another brewskie?" Brian?
     "Sure, if you don't mind.  That'd be great".
     "It's no trouble at all".
     "Really appreciate the hospitality man!....Really!
     Steve returned to the refrigerator and got them both a beer while Brian set up the chess board.
     "I must say, I'm getting quite the buzz, Steve."
     "Hey, man, If you need to crash here, it's cool.  You should probably give that leg a rest anyway".
     Brian was quite relieved to hear that and gladly accepted Steve's offer.  "That's really cool of 
you, Steve."
     "It's no problem.  I have tomorrow off anyway...Besides I'm having a good time."
     "Yah, me too, man."
     Steve handed Brian a beer and sat down in front of the chess board.  Brian put a black pawn in one hand and a white pawn in the other, put them behind his back and had Steve pick a hand.  Steve picked Brian"s right hand and a black pawn was revealed. 
     "Yes!  I love being white!", Brian exclaimed.
     "You racist bastard!" Steve replied in a joking way.
     "Hey, watch the term "bastard" Brian said with a slight smile
     "Oh! So you dont mind being called racist but bastard is too far eh?".
     Brian smiled as if to shrug off the racism joke. "I know who my father is.  I don't remember him but he did leave me this harmonica".
     Brian reached down to pull the golden harmonica from his bag. As he sorted through his backpack he turned to Steve and said, "Just skin color no racism here" 
     "Ya i was just bustin your balls bro."
     Brian passed the harmonica to Steve
     "Wow, shiny!....Can you play it?"
     "That's all a matter of opinion I guess".
     "Well, let me here somethin'".
     Brian put the harp to his lips and closed his eyes.  He played languidly and turned the mood in the room from happy to melancholy very quickly.  When he finished playing, he opened his eyes and looked at Steve for his approval.  Finally realizing that Brian was done, Steve opened his eyes and said, "Wow, man! That was fucking awesome!  Was that your own tune?"
     "Yeah, man!"
     "Wow!  I'm truly amazed."
     "I feel somehow connected to my father when I play it... It's wierd."
     "Yah,  you put a lot of feeling in it.  I really liked it, man and I'm not just saying that."
     "Thanks.  That means a lot."
     Brian casually put his harmonica away, turned to the chess board and moved his pawn forward two spaces.  Steve moved his knight and guzzled the rest of his beer.
     "You ready for another beer, Brian?"  Steve asked with a comical grin.
     "Affirmative, captain!"  Brian responded as he raised his Milwakee's Best into the air.
     Brian waited while Steve grabbed them another beer and started to think about the heroin he saw in Steve's tray. He knew it really wasn't his buisness, but he felt a strange closeness between them.  Upon Steve's return, Brian opened the cold beer, took a swig and said, "I know this is none of my buisness, but it's killing me so I have to ask...  Was that heroin I saw in your tray?"
     "Oh... Why yes it is",  Steve calmly replied, "That's how I survive. I sell it. It's pretty good money... I've only tried it once, no needles or anything, I snorted it....  Talk about fuckin' you up.  I was ripped.  More ripped than I've ever been.  Takes all your cares away Brian.  They say it's a hundred times better if you mainline it, but needles scare me.  You wanna try it or something?"
     "Oh, I don't know about that.  I've heard too many stories about it's addictive qualities."
     "To tell you the truth, one time isn't gonna kill you.  When I did it, I could have cared less if I had it again.  I don't know... maybe it's that addictive for some people, but I simply told myself I didn't want to get hooked, so I haven't done it again. It's been years.  Look, I sell it and am always around it yet, I still don't touch it....It's all a matter of will power....If you wanna snort a little bump I'll do one with you."
     "Hmmm...I don't know, man."
     "Aww, fuck it.  It'll be fun, Brian.  It's not like we're gonna mainline.  That's where the addictiveness comes in.  We'll just snort it".
     A few seconds of silence passed as Brian considered Steve's offer. Brian was so buzzed his inhibition and lack of judgement had waned.
     "Alright, Steve.  Like you said, "fuck it!""
     Steve scooted the chess board aside and pulled out his tray.
     "I'm tellin ya, man.  Nothin' to worry about".
     Even though the two had just met, Brian felt a strange closeness to Steve and trusted him like a brother.  Steve opened the small bag of heroin and sprinkled out two tiny bumps onto the coffee table.
     "You can't snort too much or you'll get a nose bleed."
     Brian watched as Steve scraped the heroin into small mounds.
     "You have to go first, Steve."
     "Alright.  No problem."
     Steve rolled a twenty-dollar bill into the shape of a straw and then bent down over the coffee table and with a quick snort the heroin was taken into his nose.  His eyes immediately began to water and then Steve sat back in the recliner, closing his eyes.
     "Your turn, Brian."
     Brian was so buzzed that all of his inhibitions were gone.
     "Okay.  Here goes nothin'".
     Brian raised the rolled up twenty to his nose and snorted it into his left nostril.
     "Wow, that fuckin' burns!"
     "Yeah it does....Don't worry you won't feel anything here in a minute".
     Brian layed his head back and rested it on the sofa and waited for the drug to take effect. Brian felt a warm rush come over him. He completely numb all over and he felt as if everything were right in the world.  
     "This is fuckin' crazy, Steve".
     "Yah, it's pretty great."
     "Oh my god".
     Brian began laughing and Steve joined him.  A few minutes later the drug took complete control over them and they became speechless and practically motionless.  Brian's usual haunting thoughts of his childhood disappeared. He layed back with complete content.  
     Brian and Steve came out of their trances some time later.
     "This stuff is awesome, Steve!"
     "Yah, it is...Just promise me, and more importantly promise yourself that you'll not do it again.  I'd hate to be responsible for getting you hooked."
     "It's to good to do again, don't worry about it.  I promise".
     They both still had a killer buzz and didn't care to finish their chess game.  Steve reached for the remote control and turned the T.V. on. The Weather Channel came on but Steve didn't care to change it.  Brian didn't say anything and the two zoned on the radar blip until they passed out.       
      
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​

     Brian woke around noon the next morning.  Steve had already been awake for a while and cleaned up the apartment.
     "How ya feelin' man?"
     "Drowsy".
     "You want some coffee?  I made a pot earlier this morning".
     "I'd love some."
     "Cream and sugar?"
     "Is there any other way?"
     Steve made his way into the kitchen, poured some coffee and added sugar and milk.  When he went to set the coffee down a little spilled on the table.
     "Here ya go man".
     "Hey thanks, bro."
     Steve sat down in the recliner next to Brian.
     "So ya takin off today, Brian?"
     "Yeah man.  Probably not until later when it's dark".
     "How's the knee?"
     "Oh, actually it feels pretty good.  I mean, it's still sore but I can move it pretty well."
     Brian lifted his leg in the air and moved his leg back and forth to reassure Steve that it was okay.
     Steve and Brian carefully took a sip of their steaming coffee.
     "So, what do ya wanna do today, Brian?"
     "Ah, probably just relax until it's time to go...Unless you had something else in mind."
     "Hangin' out sounds good to me."
     "Wanna wake and bake, Steve?"
     "Hell yeah."
     Brian pulled out his baggie and Steve pulled out his tray.
     "You wanna twist it or pack it, Brian?"
     "Let's pack it".
     "Cool, I got this one."
     "Aww, c'mon.  Let me get it."
     "I insist."
     "Alright man you're too kind."
     Steve grabbed a 3 ft bong from behind the recliner and packed it as full as he could get it and passed it to Brian.
     "Go ahead and spark it up."
     "Thanks, man".
     Brian set fire to the bright green bud and inhaled.  
     As he took the bong from Brian Steve reached down and pulled the chess board out.
     "You wanna play and actually finish a game?"
     Brian laughed."Sure!"
     Steve layed the chess board down and took another draw from the bong.  Brian began to set the pieces up. When Steve was done smoking he helped him.
     "I'll let you be white since I was last night", Brian said.
     About a half an hour had passed before Brian had Steve's king in checkmate.  Brian only had his king and queen left and he the only reason he had his queen is because he was able to run his last pawn the legnth of the board.  
     "Checkmate!", Brian boasted.
     "Damn it."
     "Good game."
     "Yeah, it was close."
     "At least we were able to finish it."
     Brian laughed.
     "Man...I must admit, Steve.  I felt pretty good last night."
     "Yeah, me too man.  Just don't get used to it."
     "Don't worry about that."
     The conversation was cut short when a knock came to the door.  They both looked at the door and acted startled and then hurriedly put away the drugs in their respective places.  Once everything was secure, Steve went to answer the door.  A scruffy, unshaven man with his clothes tattered and his hair a mess smiled and said, "Hey, man!  How ya' doin'?"
     "Hey, Darren!  Good, good....C'mon in my friend", Steve replied.
     Once inside Steve proceeded to introduce Darren and Brian.  As Darren went to shake Brian's hand, Brian couldn't help but notice the snot running down his lip but he made sure he didn't stare at it.  Darren reached out his dirty hand. Even though Brian was reluctant to shake it, he did for the sake of showing respect.     
     "Nice to meet you, Darren."
     "You too, Brian"
     After his brief introduction to Brian, Darren turned to Steve and asked, "You holdin',man?"
     "Yeah.  Whadda ya need, my friend?"
     "A twenty is all I got," Darren depressingly answered.
     Steve made his way to his stash of heroin and pulled out a little baggie to portion Darren out twenty dollars worth.  When he was done, he sealed the baggie and exchanged possessios with Darren.  
     "You the man ,Steve."
     As Steve put away the tray he replied, "It's really good, man".  
     "Alright...Well, If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go give this a shot.  Ha, Ha....You get it...A shot....That's a little junkie humor."
     Brian and Steve both laughed when they finally understood the poor joke.
     "Good one, Darren," Steve said.
     "Why, thank you.  I came up with that one myself...but enough of my jokes.  I'm gettin' out of here fellas. I have a date with destiny"
     "Nice to meet you, Darren," 
     "You too, Brian," Darren hurriedly said as he rushed out the door.
     "And thats how easy it is, Brian"
     "Wow, that guy looked terrible."
     "Yeah, that's why you don't want to get hooked."  
     In order to save face and justify himself, Steve added, "Darren's not homeless or anything.  I wouldn't sell to him if he was. He surprisingly has a steady income.  He's a vietnam vet and makes a pretty good living from the government...Anyways, if he
didn't get it from me, he'd get it elsewhere."
     "Yeah, you're right," Brian reassured him.  "It's cool man. Don't worry about it,"
     A few seconds of silence passed between the two before Brian said, 'Just be careful, man.  You can get in a shit load of trouble if you get caught sellin' that stuff."
     "Oh, don't worry, Brian.  I have a pretty fail safe system.  My customers usually page me and I meet them somewhere. Darren's only allowed to come to the door because he lives in an apartment upstairs, so it's not a big deal."
     "Still, man.  You gotta be careful."
     "Yeah."
     Brian began to feel a little uncomfortable now that the reality of the situation he was in became more clear and said,  "If you don't mind, could you run me up to the station a little early..I'd like to try and make some money."
     "How you gonna do that," Steve asked?
     "By playing the harmonica."
     "I should've guessed....Yeah, man no problem. Just let me grab the keys."
     "Cool. I appreciate it."
     A few moments passed and steve returned with the keys.
     "You ready, man."
     "Alright," Brian answered as he grabbed his backpack.
     Steve turned the ignition and asked,"You gonna need any help boarding that train tonight, with your leg all fucked up, I mean."
     "Why you thinkin' about hangin' out near the trainyard with me?"
     "Yeah, I wouldn't mind hearing you play that harp some more."
     "Cool, I could use the company and definitely some help getting on the train."
 
 
                                                                                                    

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     Brian and Steve got some coffee and Brian found a good spot to play, where plenty of people 
were passing by.  Brian played until nightfall and only brought in $20, but he figured it was better than nothing and was content. He and Steve passed the rest of the night discussing what Vegas was going to be like for Brian. Around dusk, Brian found a good spot to hop the train.  As a westward train began to move Brian struggled a little to get on board but with Steve's help he made it much more easily.  Steve wished him luck and  Brian thanked him for everything. As Steve faded into the distance, Brian found a spot in the corner of the boxcar and situated himself. He felt as if he had lost a good friend but was looking forward to reaching his uncle in Las Vegas. 

     The train started to slow after ten hours; most of which Brian had slept.  When it came to jumping off this time, Brian was a little more careful.  He waited till the train was going slow enough and he held his weight on one of the door handles and ran with the train.  When it had slowed down to a running pace he pushed himself away.  When clear of the the train Brian ran behind a 
small patch of brush to hide.  Once he saw that the coast was clear he made his way towards town to see if he could find a good spot to make some more money.
     Across the street and down a few blocks, Brian was intrigued to see a white bearded black man playing and singing the blues with a rickety old steel string.  Brian decided to sit and listen for a while before approaching him.  Mostly, the old man sang about paying the rent and about past loves he had, occasionaly throwing in a funny line.  The old man drew a pretty good size crowd and seemed to be making some descent money.  
     After a while the crowd dwindled and the old man took a break to roll a cigarette.  Brian took the oppurtunity to get acquainted.  It seemed that the man had a permanently ingrained smile when he wasn't singing and a very kind disposition.
     "Hello, I'm Brian".
     "Well, hey there now youngin'.  I'm George T. Williams but my friends call me 'Willie'."
     "You're a pretty good player, Willie."
     "Why thank ya' mista'.  My technique aint da best, but I shore put soul into it...I thinks dats what people dig."
     "I think you're right, Willie".
     "Dats twice yous called me Willie.  Yous must be my friend."
     "Yeah, sure.  You seem like a good guy."
     "Looks can be decieving, Brian and don't yous forget it."
     "So you're not a good guy?"
     "Heh heh...Fo' yous dat remains to be seen. Yes sir.....Aww I'm just a messin' round. No worries.....So anyhow, what brings you to these parts?
     "How do you know I'm not from around here?"
     "Well sir, you gots a backpack and yous shore don't talk like no Texan I ever met."
     "Fair enough.....It's a long story."
     "I gots plenty o' time."
      Brian tried to summarize his story but still 5 minutes passed before he finally said.....and my father gave me a golden harmonica.  It's the only thing I have to remind me of him.  I hope to make something of myself with it".
     Brian pulled the harmonica out of his bag and showed it to Willie.
     "Well, say now, that's a mighty fine harp ya' gots there, Brian...but can ya' play it?"
     "Somewhat."
     "Either ya' can or you cain't.  There's no "somewhat" about it."
     "Well, in that case,I guess I can?"
     "There aint no guessin' bout it neither.  Either ya' can or ya' cain't."
      Brian nodded his head,"Allright.... I can play."
     "Dat's bedda....Now it's time to test out ya skill!  Join in wheneva' you get the notion to."
     Willie picked up his beat up old acoustic and began to strum a twelve bar blues.  When Willie
came back around to the next twelve bars, Brian put the harp to his lips and got ready to play.  Willie
stopped just as Brian was about to begin.
     "Make sure ya' think of some of that real sad stuff yous been tellin' me about.  It'll make it dat much bedda'."
     Willie began to strum again and Brian thought about his past like Willie said. Brian moistened his lips and got ready for Willie to come around again.  When the time came Brian blew into the golden harp and filled the whole city block. People walking by turned their heads. Several people left their porches to see where the sound was coming from. An old couple stopped doing 
yardwork and a group of kids stopped their game of marbles.It was like a pack of Meerkats had spotted a predator. Brian's eyes remained closed the entire time as if it were only him and Willies three chords.  Shortly after Brian finished his phrase, Willie came in with some lyrics about the story of Brian's life.  This pulled Brian even further into the jam.  Brian had never felt such a strong connection with another musician before. The two of them jammed on the same song 
for about ten minutes before Willie signaled for the final cadence. When they ended every pair of hands available clapped accompanied by shouts of adulation.  People threw money down left and right into Willie's hat  overfilling it with cash and coins. It was as if there was a mythic force that drug them to the hat that had been channeled by the golden harmonica. Willie and Brian looked at each other and smiled. Brian could not get the smile off of his face, but managed to thank the appreciative crowd along with Willie.
     When the commotion of applause ceased and the crowd dispersed, Willie looked at Brian and said, "You gots a good soul fer music, Brian.  I felt it pourin' outta that harp."
     "Thank you, Willie....Ya' know I've never played like that before....I mean, I really felt it."
     "Dat's cuz you was feelin' true emotion and that came through yer playin'....man, you were wailin'!"
     "Thanks...thanks a lot, Willie."
     "So...we got us a good size pile a' money here to be splittin up."
     Willie picked up his brown leather hat and began to straighten out the money and count it.  
     "Wow.  That's the most money I've ever made in ten minutes", Brian said to Willie.
     "You know, I reckon that's the most I think I ever made in an day! Haha! ....We make a good team, Brian."
     "Ya, I think so too", Brian replied.
     Willie finished counting the money.  "That's $65 in all....So, dat's...thirty-two-fity a piece. Hot Dog!"
     "You said it, Willie."
     "Ya' know, kid, I'm headed out West too...maybe we should team up or somethin'".
     "That sounds good to me. Where you headed anyway?"
     "Los Angelese, California.  My daughters there.  I cain't wait to see 'er."
     "Cool...Let's do it, Willie."
     "Well, okay then.  It's a done deal.  We's partners."
     Brian and Willie shook hands and then decided to grab some lunch They exchanged more life
stories for the next couple hours.  Brian wasn't sure about it, but he finally got up the nerve to ask Willie if he smoked weed.  
     "Why, yes, I do.  Eva since I was "leven.  My cousin Freeman gave me a taste. Yes, sir.  there aint nuthin' wrong with dat....Why, you got some?"
     "Yeah....It's not the best but it gets the job done."
     "I knows a great little spot to smoke, if you got some time to spare."
     "Yeah, sure, Willie."
     "I'll introduce ya' to some of my buddies.  They's great guys."
     "Sounds good.  I'm right behind ya', Willie."
     As the two gathered their belongings, Brian noticed a brown paper sack heaping with money that Willie was adding his earnings to.  Brian guessed it had to be in the thousands.  Although he was curious of a hobo having that much money he was also relieved in a way because this reassured him that Willie was not drawing him away from the station to mug him.
     The two left the station and headed toward a river.  They walked along the banks for fifteen minutes or so befor they came upon a run down warehouse.  
     "This is the place, Brian.  Home sweet home.  Me an' the boys has lived here for years."
     "Looks like an interesting place to live."
     "Oh, it's great...I'm always free.  Me, dis old guitar, what's in this bag and dis rusty ol roof is all I need.
     "That's great, Willie.  If it makes you happy, then that's all that matters."
     Willie and Brian entered the old warehouse  through a small hole in the wall and then down a tall hallway.  Brain heard the voices of men laughing. When they came to the end of the corridor, Brian saw that the warehouse was full of nice furnishings, (a refrigerator,
several sofas, lamps, a desk, recliners, a wet bar, and even a pool table).
     "Wow, this is a really nice place, Willie".
     "Hey, we know how to care for ourselves, Brian.  Just because I'm livin' free don't mean I cain't live good."
     The voices got quiet.
     "Who 'dere?", a voice called out.
     "It's just old Willie, boys. Relax."
     "Back so soon, Willie.  I thought you was headed out West."
     Brian and Willie rounded another corner to see three men playing darts and drinking beer.  Behind them was a three piece drum set, a banjo, a P.A. system and a bass guitar.
     "Jus back for a minute, boys! I brought a friend with me.  This is Brian."
     "Hello, Brian", the three men said in stereo."
     Brian returned their greeting and stepped forth to shake hands with the men.
     "I'm Joe, that's Sammy and that's Martin."
     "Nice to meet you guys, Brian exclaimed."
     Martin grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and handed it to Brian.
     "Thank you, Martin."
     "You're most welcome, Brian."
     Willie cut in and said, "This cat here can wail on the harmonica. I met him down at the station.  We started talkin and the next thing I knew we was turnin' every head in town."
     "You play the harmonica, huh?", Martin asked.
     "Yes."
     "I think we's gonna have to have us a little session", Joe excitedly said.
     "You fellas wanna smoke a joint first?", Brian asked.
      The room erupted with affirmation.  Brian pulled out a pre-twisted pinky sized joint and  offered it to Willie to light.
     "Why, thank ya', Brian.  Dat's awfully kind of ya'."
     "Certainly, Willie."
     After taking a large toke off of the joint, Willie said, "Dat don't taste bad at all Brian."
     Brian smiled and then Willie passed the joint around the circle.  When it was gone, Sammy popped it in his mouth and ate it. Joe went to the other side of the warehouse and began fiddling in one of the desk drawers.  The other men began bombarding Brian with questions trying to keep his attention off of Joe.  A minute later Joe snuck up behind Brian.  Brian felt something poke 
him in the back of the head.
     "Shut up and give me your money, boy."
     Brian's face grew white and was glazed over with terror.
     "Turn around slowly, Brian", Joe said in a stern voice.
     When Brian turned around Joe stuck a cigar in his mouth and all the men began to laugh hysterically.
     "Got ya', Brian", Sammy called out.
     Once Brian realized the men were toying with him, his face grew beet red with embarassment.
     "That's not right guys."
     "Just playin Brian", Joe said.  "I didn't mean to scare ya' that bad.  It was just a joke..."
     "I'm not mad. Don't worry about it, Joe.  You guy's got me."
     "Yes we did, Martin called out followed by a cackle of laughter.
     "Well spark that blunt, Brian. Try summa da Texan kind bud."
     Still a little shaken, Brian put the lighter to the blunt and took a few tokes to get the fat blunt lit.
     "Wow, that's some good tastin stuff, fellas."
     "Yeah, we Texans do everything big, Brian," Martin explained.
     The blunt went around the circle fifteen times before Sammy ate the heavily resinated roach. Brian's eyes were as red as they could possibly get without directly spraying red paint into them.
     "I must say.  This is the most stoned I've ever been", Brian said.
     The men all laughed at Brian 
      Sammy chimed in "Ya man I'm stoned to bajesus".
     "So you guys wanna jam?", Sammy asked.
     "Yeah, let's play", Martin agreed.
     The men stood up and took to their instruments. 
     "So you must be really good", Joe said to Brian.
     "What makes you say that, Joe?"
     "I've never heard Willie tell anybody they're good before."
     Willie interupted.  "That's cuz Brian's got it. You know capital I, capital T"
     "Thanks, Willie.  Brian blushingly said."
     "Alright.  Alright...  That's enough of the mushy stuff.  Let's play.' Joe interrupted
     The men tuned their instruments and established the key they would play in.  Willie counted off the tempo and Joe came in with a simple beat.  Willie and Martin (who was on the banjo), followed Joe with a simple twelve bar blues chord progression.  Sammy
chimed in on the bass along with them.  The men took turns soloing.   Brian sat back and listened to how well the men grooved together, before coming in with a witty solo of his own.  The men, just like Willie were totally enthralled with Brain's natural ability with phrasing and skill.  When the jam was finished the men were hooting and hollering and congratulated each other on their solos.
     As the sun began to set Brian and Willie said their goodbyes and left for the trainyard to find an open freight car.