Leaving it all Behind

Today is court day. Another day in the nightmare I can’t seem to wake up from. My son and I decided it would be pointless to try to fight it. She would have falsified her docs and she is familiar with that particular judge. Still, that societal conditioning ached at me, telling me, to fight any way. 

At exactly 8:30 A M, court time, I took my dogs out for their morning walk. Of course, her husband was outside watching.  We will have 5 days to appeal before she can file a force to vacate. We are still waiting for my paycheck to arrive so we can leave. The sad part of all of this, she is doing this to my son, not me. 

The next morning, Janelle, was parked across the street at the dollar store in her BMW, with the sparkly license plate cover. At first, I didn’t even notice her, until she purposely drove past me. For a woman that is pregnant, with 5 other children and runs an entire apartment complex, would think she would be too busy to be concerned with what I was doing. Sometimes, the best way to handle a baddie is to just ignore them. 

I remember back when we first moved into the apartments, just over a year ago, and Janelle tried to illegally evict Latisha, the mom with her 9 angels and star seeds. I helped Latisha gather the docs to fight it; she won. I also showed her how to purchase her own home so her babes would have a safe place to grow. This didn’t bode well with Petty McQueen. There are monsters in this world, and sometimes they look like people. 

I started smoking again. I look around the apartment and try to decide what was coming with us. I have learned this before, to let material stuff go but, I didn’t think I would have to do this so soon. I will take the few things I have left that belonged to my mom, back to my brother’s house, where I lived just over a year ago. 

My mind just can’t seem to focus on a task, so I sit by the window and have another smoke, thinking it will clear my head, but it doesn’t.  I sit there, between the dishwasher and the makeshift coffee stand, watching another homeless person wandering around with an orangey-yellow hoodie over his head, pacing back and forth. What is he waiting for? The dollar store to open? Thinking about all the homeless in the Area of Divergence, how did they get there?

We have only a few days left until we have to leave Lancaster Heights; the time here is coming to a close. I can feel it, we both can feel it. I wake up each day with the heaviness around me. Is my life really an adventure? Or just a series of really bad choices on my part? My pride and temper, looking back, seem to get the best of me. Add a bottle of wine to the experiment and BOOM-A hot headed Irish Woman does it again! How are we getting to California with my two dogs in tow?   There just doesn’t seem to be enough money to make a solid plan.

I still have my daughter’s things here, now we have to figure out where to put them, because her mother is being evicted from her apartment. The apartment on the East Side; drug and gang activity increase as the cycle of tenants come and go. There is the tan SUV that watches me; I took the dogs out to walk one morning, not noticing the drug deal happening in the parking lot until it was too late. Of course, they know which apartment is ours. It doesn’t help that Fort Worth’s finest check in on my son periodically to make sure he’s okay. 

Running out of time, and trying to hold on, my check finally arrived.  We had more than enough to make it to California. Our car, with 315k miles on it, new spark plugs and a new day; we packed what would fit and left Lancaster Heights behind. 

My son drove the whole way; he didn’t stop until we crossed the Arizona State Line, parked at a rest stop in San Simone. My son, 2 scared pooches and me. We slept. 

I could feel the sun peaking over the mountain range, as I slowly realized where we were. It was pretty cramped for room in the 2007 Kia Optima, Kali found a spot on my son's backpack in the back, and in between us, Olive slept in the center console.

Opening my eyes with that familiar urgency and knew the pooches did as well, I opened my car door and saw a welcoming rest area with vending machines, facilities and a marked off doggy area for my babes. I looked off to the left and witnessed a most beautiful Arizona sunrise just off the mountain peak.

Just 850 miles ago, we were being evicted from the apartment on Beaty Street. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet.  I made some sliced hardboiled egg sandwiches on croissants from the bakery and some Starbucks in a can and we continued on to our destination.

Crossing the Kumeyaay Highway and over a mountain range that topped out at 4100 feet above sea level, Ms. Kia made it without a hitch or a hiccup to our first destination.  

You could smell the familiar aromas of the West Coast, South Beach, San Diego, California

My girls, being Texas born, never saw the ocean before, the California Ocean. There is something about being here, the vibe, the energy-you have to experience it firsthand to understand it fully.

 My son walked the beach to get us some West Coast famous Carne Asada burritos; while I let the pooches check out the new territory. The beaches were crowded, which gave way to anxiety for my little furry ones. It had been a long trip.

Also, my first time in S. D.; this is where my 7-year-old granddaughter lives, that I haven’t met yet. I wanted to meet her. This is what got me this far.

 When we left Texas, we left with a car full of stuff, two dogs, a little bit of hope and about $250. We didn’t stop until we crossed the state lines.

 I ate my burrito while enjoying the O. B. Sunset; it brought back so many memories of my childhood. The peaceful serenity I remember so fondly as a child, before the heaviness of adulthood. I could feel the ocean drawing in the last year of my life and replacing it with thoughts of peace; she filled my soul with hope and perseverance.

Exhausted from the 1100 miles we since drove, still just enough money for fuel to get to our final destination, we parked in a quiet neighborhood, where my son used to live with his father in military housing, to rest for the night. I found a hoodie and rolled it up for a pillow.  We made our makeshift beds in the front seat of the Kia, Kali on the backpack and Olive in the console with my shawl.  The 4 of us didn’t make a sound for a solid six hours.

I woke up the next morning staring at some palms as the morning sun kissed the tips of the fronds creating almost a halo or a glow around the proud trees; it was the most glorious morning. I open my eyes fully to see this beautiful orange and yellow beacon peaking over the palms and mountain ranges filled with green trees; such a welcoming way to start a new day.

That last 8 hour stretch that separates Southern California from Northern California, the foothills being our final destination. 

We hadn’t showered since we left Texas, wearing the same clothes; maybe a quickie wash in the rest area bathroom with some hand sanitizer and wet wipes is all we got. But none of that mattered. The smells of California smelled like freedom.

My son’s awaited check finally posted, so of course we had to treat ourselves with a homemade breakfast burrito, So Cal style. 

We hopped on the freeway and began our journey once again.  That last stretch through Los Angeles and Bakersfield. After that, all you can see is just vast wasteland of orchards and ranches that can barely survive. The grasses were a burnt, dried up yellow that looked like unkempt straw.   Our Ms. KIA, with over 300k miles on her, just purred like a kitten all the way to our final destination. 

We finally arrived in Oregon House. A small rural town nestled in the Sierra Nevada foothills. It was dark when we arrived, and Barbara was waiting for us. Brad was gone taking care of his other son’s house, while Jake and his new bride, Britney were off on their honeymoon. 

We took showers and Barbara had some wine waiting for me, so I poured a glass and sat in the living room to visit with her. 

It was so surreal to be here. Back in Northern California, my birthplace, the place I grew up. It had been 25 years since I have been here, my childhood even longer.

When I woke the next morning on a cot with fresh quilted blankets and my pooches on either side of me, I knew we were about to embark on another new adventure.