OK, now what.....

 [Note from Roberta: please ignore the two years that have passed between episodes and instead look at the date.]

I am still alive. I AM OK. I don't know what to think. The last few days. Now I am in this motel along the highway, across from the sea with a door that locks, a roof, carpet a bathroom and a shower and a BED. My clothes are dripping dry in the shower. This was so worth it. I think the lady in the office felt sorry for me, and it's after the weekend. Out of the shower onto the bed and asleep. I wanted to sleep until they kicked me out at check-out time but dawn is gazing out from beneath the layer of clouds over the sea and something in it has spoken to me. And I have a lot of catching up to do.

I didn't know what to think. Now I think this place is strange. Not all, but something I haven't met yet. Good strange or bad strange I don't know yet.

That looked so much like her car. How many of those old beetles are still crawling around? With the Universe leading me to my true home, why wouldn't she have just shown up when I needed her most. No, it was some guy, young guy who was about as messed up as I was. Decent guy, I think. Once we both knew we weren't going to kill each other, he slept in the front seat and let me in out of the rain curled up in the back seat of a beetle, that's how doubled up I was and a few more trips to the portapotty. I am never eating fish and chips again. Ever. When morning came he drove me into Clallam and I think he is OK, maybe. I want to think I got led to him since he knows a lot about what's around here and he showed up. But I don't know yet if he is one of my people. His name was something that sounded fake which still bothers me.

I explored the town, saw more than before, little store with a lot of interesting food, art gallery that isn't open, library, visitor information, thrift store that isn't open, what looks like a bar, a school and another store up the road. Public restroom. I still needed that. I sent emails home at the library. Most of the day on the beach by the restroom nested down in the sand with a log at my back. Lots of clouds. I think I saw whales. Down past the lighthouse I started building my house. More of a shelter I could crawl into when it got dark, above high tide but I didn't get any sleep, even when i smoked some. 

Next day-- I went to Sekiu, the town across the bay, walked to save bus fare. Different energy than Clallam Bay, fishing. My phone doesn't get service there either. Just experiencing, not cluttering my energy field with anything besides what the world truly is. Saying hi to the people sometimes, and sometimes they seem OK but other times not, more listening to them than talking or thinking or judging. But being OPEN-NESS because it is now just me and what the sea has to tell me, and there is so much to catch up on. My stomach was a little better and I ate the bread and nut bars and cheese I brought, sat out of the rain on the bench in front of the thrift store, appreciating the little things of the day. Listening to the sea and not thinking. Better roof on my house, but I slept some and then all wet from the rain in the morning. Found more wood and rope and dug down and made the house so I could sit up in it. I thought I did a good job.

That day I took the bus to Neah Bay, beautiful road along the sea, and really liked it there, like another place I never knew existed, another world at the end of the earth. I am coming back to go to the museum. I wonder if I could live there. Much more of a town. Had a burger for lunch at one of the stores. It is almost all native people, with a few fishermen and tourists, I guess. I didn't talk to anyone too much because I want to learn about them and sometimes I say stupid things I'm sorry for later. It is why I write. When I am less stressed I want to go back and talk to these people. Something about this felt very important.  The shore is open sea and powerful and I slept on the sand for a long time and still woke up in time for the bus back to Clallam. And when I got to my home it looked like someone had wrecked it. On purpose. I felt like crying but then I looked north at the light fading on the water and the warm colors in the sky and what someone had done did not seem important anymore. I thought I would stay at the beach but there were people around and something didn't feel safe to me, not right somehow. Something scared me and I don't know what it was but I went into town and found a house that looked like nobody was home with a back porch with a roof over it and a lounge I could lie down on. The sea didn't feel safe, there were people who weren't good for me out there. I don't think I slept any.

I think I need to get a car or something. I saw an ad for one on a bulletin board, $1500. I have the money in my account. I went back to the sea in the daylight and then spent part of the day in the library reading. And then when I left, there was the kid in the beetle again. We were talking and he gave me some smoked salmon, which kind of made me think of the bad fish and chips but I ate it. I think he is OK. He seemed more into talking than when I had first met him, and he wanted to show me a special place. We had something to smoke and we went driving to a place by the sea where seals were. I don't know if this was because of what he gave me to smoke but I suddenly knew that he was going to kill me. We were walking along the bottom of the cliff and the water and sky and clouds seemed just enhanced in some way that made them seem like a portal to another world and there was nobody around except the noisy seals and I realized this was the perfect place for him to kill me. I hope it was because I had hardly any sleep and whatever it was we were smoking. I was so scared but trying not to show it but I knew he knew. It was like he could know what I was thinking, because he said things like, it was going to be OK and something about being afraid of the dead or something like that. I told him I had to go back to town right away. He looked surprised and said he was going to show me his tree, whatever that meant, but I told him to get me back to town now and was insistent about it. There were some other people around. I had him drop me off by the art gallery, even though it was closed, and I remembered seeing a motel not too far up the road. So here I am. This is so worth it. 

Going to change my clothes and go next door to have their breakfast special and then see if I can spend another night here. Lots of vacant parking spaces. And go across the street and sit on a log and look at the sea and find the OPEN-NESS again. I still don't know what to think. But I think I need a car.

Good and Bad Shit

Why does anybody travel in this part of the world? I found the guy who was at the Chili cookout last year, with the pan of "adult" corn bread. He used coconut oil, so it was really good, good cornbread.

Huh. How long was I at his place? It's pissing down rain. I gotta get my windshield wiper on this old VW bug fixed. Just my luck, I'd run over a zombie. They don't seem to care about rain, and if you hit one, jeeze, you can skid for miles. For his - or her - sake and mine, I hope they're all tucked up in some nice, safe hole tonight.

I didn't expect it to be so strong. I think my guy made it weaker last time. Because I was really hungry, and I ate all three pieces on a empty stomach. Now I'm seeing purple spots, and I don't want to drive back to the Hoko. Officer Goofy will probably take me in anyway, even if pot is legal now. Well, it would be fair. This is very much Under The Influence. And Goofy doesn't like my old bug, anyway. They used to be called PotMobiles.

I really don't feel good. I haven't driven that far. I need to go to the bus parking lot, and just maybe get some sleep. Just pull carefully in here, make sure nobody's on my tail at 80 miles an hour, with something so big they can't brake, and only one headlight. Just ease the car in here, off the road.

Quietly, pull in, stop the car.Yup, turn off the lights - I'm on autopilot now - and just listen to the rain on the roof of the car.

Jeesus Christ! What just ran through the parking lot? Is it a zombie? Were those brains, a bad hoodie, or just long hair? I'm not getting out of this car.

WTF? It's jumping up and down and screaming. Am I being threatened? Man, the purple spots are getting worse. I'm gonna pass out, I swear.

Oh, no, somebody's at the door. Did I lock it? Lemme see. Oh, my hands are numb. I can't tell.

I knew I should have stopped going to that guy.

I'm gonna die.

Here?

Ohhh Shit, OH shit! Months of planning and I missed the bus while I was in that stupid portapotty? Maybe it's just late but the bus is supposed to come at 6:16 and it's after 7. It was so beautiful out here and I was so happy coming to my new life, at least until it started clouding up. The forecast was showers early and clearing about noon. It's not clearing up. I shouldn't have eaten those stupid fish and chips in Port Angeles. I missed the earlier bus and the grease tasted funny. But I'm trying to make my money last. I shouldn't have gone off to smoke in the woods. I should have just gone to the portapotty before it was too late. Shit, now it's starting to rain. Oh, shit, should I hitchhike? Maybe I look enough like a guy that I won't get raped by some crazy guy. Maybe I ought to just hide in the woods so some crazy doesn't see me alone out here and kill me or take my money. Do I wait out here until morning? Now I gotta go again. Stupid fish and chips! What if some guy stops to use this portapotty and finds me in there and gets me? What if there is a bear in the woods that mauls me? And I don't get any reception out here either. Stupid AT&T. I did bring extra underwear, but where am I going to change? Now its really raining. Shit. Whoever finds this, this is how I died. If this is how it was meant to be. 

Alone Alone Alone

I'm so sick of the stupid nickname. I can't even hide at school. I don't want to go to school; I don't want to go to the pow-wows. Everybody says my family never talks to anybody, and even they go to the pow-wows. I wish I knew who found out about "Snotboy," and thought it was a cool nickname.

Nobody has anything I need up here. Nobody thinks about what anything means. It's all money money money. I guess some of my people used to live like that, but nobody can do it any more. Or they say they can't.

I don't even want money. I just want to be left alone. I could live up here, all my myself, I could even hide. I could be like the deer and the young bears, moving on ahead of the clearcuts. I don't want to be like the old bears, that can't think how to move on, and eat goats, and get shot.

I'm writing this in my alone place - a burnt-out cedar stump, a big one. I've got everything I need here, because the burn didn't take out the center of the tree. I have a roof. I have tinder, all that dry cedar powder. I have a place to sleep, when nobody's missing me, which is all the time. I have a place to hide my notebook - the paper one, not the electrical ones, because I don't need even that. I wish I could be naked like the animals and live here without ever coming in.

I even wish I could die like the animals, and just dry away on the beach, so there's nothing left of me but scattered bones and feathers or fur.

I'm named after a spirit; why can't I just be invisible?

Join us for the Zombie Challenge!

At the Clallam Bay Comicon panel, come watch Roberta Gregory and Donna Barr write an episode of "Only a Zombie," before your very eyes. 

If you're local, join the challenge to become a character in this blog novel!

And remember, in this blog, zombies are just part of the population, and we all have to try to survive their antics and appetites.

Come join the fun!

Time to fly

Well, it is about time. Schools's out forever. I am free. So hard to really grasp that, as I sit here in my forest for one last time, at least for a while. The mountains wait for me and as always, there is a halo of clouds over them. Showers predicted, not so bad. I'm from here. 

In a couple days I really will be FROM here. I get away from the ugly. The endless trains bringing unspeakably horrible things. Tired of the ugly. Too much ugly. I deserve beauty, that beauty I saw so many months ago. Tired of ugly, of people who act ugly, give off ugly, souls that are ugly. And everyone says that this is such a good city, the perfect city, climate, growth, wealth. The rest of the country must be hell on earth if Seattle is so wonderful. Am I the only one who sees what a sad place it truly is? 

Just have to make sure I have what I need. If I write it, maybe I will think of something I forgot. I don't need much. I'll learn what I need when I need it. That's another one of my skills. A small drawing tablet and some pencils. Can fit them in somehow. I'll never be as good as Alison but good enough. If only she could draw Angel's story but she has her own agenda, her own way to go. Never did finish her book but maybe they have libraries out there at the end of the earth. Just too much right now. I wish she could just sit down with me and smoke a bowl and realize we are just all in this together and it will all work out. Maybe I am supposed to draw it. I just need to learn how to draw. How hard can that be?

The thimbleberries are not quite ripe but where I am going, they will be. I think the only thing I am going to miss is this forest. But they have even better ones out there.

I am coming, Cougar. Wait for me.