Balloons as a base

August 1, 1992
We’s, Jimmy and me, supposed to write about ourselves, our feelings or whatever. I ain’t nothing but a scribbler, but what the hell. I got me a stubby pencil and this here little book that folds up nice in my pocket. Trucker’s log book I found in a reststop. Might well fill my time with it. Jimmy weren’t none too fond of the idea either. Jimmy’s my best friend. We was up the VA in Saint Louis. I got a nervous condition. It’s like a disease and ain’t none a my fault. I can’t deal with people too good is all. They make my throat dance like a ballerina. Can’t be helped, so I keep real quiet and out of sight. Jimmy’s problem’s a little different and he don’t mind the people so much as I do so I follow where ever he’s going. It’s easier that way. Sometime he don’t know I’m there, sometime he do. It’s like that is all. We’re good friends. I watch his back. We split up a long while there. I thought he went up Chicago way, but I couldn’t find him so I walked to Rock Island thinking I might find him at his mom’s place. It took me awhile, but I’m real patient. I don’t mind waiting for a good thing.

Up Rock Island I heard you could float a log down the river and sell it at a mill for a hundred dollars. Some people do that in the spring when the river’s high and the trees fall over along the shore. Well, I was lying under a bush in a park and they had this big old trimmed log chained along the shore and it was a good size chain was blocking the mouth of a little stream for some reason. Well, there was just this curl of metal hooked in the ground to hold it all together and you know, I’m thinking about that hundred dollars and I dig out that hook with a big stick and away I went, holding onto that log for all my life.

It’s a funny thing, riding a log down the Mississippi, I found it best to hug that log with all I got and drag my feet deep in the water, try to face forward is all. Don’t think anyone saw me. No one hollered at least. Lots of things slide by on the river in the springtime. It was right pretty sometimes all pink and purple over the burbles like some fleshy flow but the bugs was bothering me too and the waters was so fast I was coming up on Keokuk before you know it and right hungry at that. By then I could kind of steer the thing leaning to the side a little and dragging lower on that foot. It was a big log and took a might of work to get to shore, but a bend helped dump me on a sliver of island and I tied my log up to a tree with that hunk of chain like a good steed. Later, thought I’d find Jimmy and get him to help me get my hundred bucks.

I don’t know why Jimmy and I got on so well. I guess you need to trust someone and we was buddies after all. We knew each other during the war and even before that. Seems like we always been knowing each other. We had some strange times there in Saint Louis after we skipped out of the VA. They wasn’t doing us a lick of good. We was just all going crazy feeding the ducks and freaking out. So Jimmy and I decided to just walk away. I was desperate to go and it seemed real important that he help with that. He’s real smart when he’s got something to do and he don’t have anything to do at the VA, so we come up with a plan and it was no time before we was holed up in an abandoned warehouse somewhere in Saint Louis.

It was real cool there. I liked it a lot. You could come and go and weren’t nobody going to see you or give you a hard time or anything. I set to work digging a hole behind some old machinery. The concrete was all broke up where they’d pulled out some big machine and it was just sand underneath and the sand was cool on my face and I liked to sleep there and I thought I might dig a tunnel or something but mostly I just liked digging. It was real interesting. I can’t explain.

Jimmy didn’t much like it at first, he wanted to move along right away, but then them dogs showed up. There was four of them. They must have lived there but we scared them out. They hung around though and Jimmy wanted to trap them or just get his hands on them somehow. It was real important to him. He liked dogs. It took him a long time to get close to them. He’d give them whatever food he’d scrounge and one day this white one come up to him. Mangy dog you know looked half dead and the others was keeping it from the food so it was sidling closer to Jimmy till it finally just took to him and he buried his face in that mangy nasty filthy fur like it was a woman’s crotch or something and I swear he was just weeping away like a baby. But that’s ok. Jimmy got some mixed up problems is all. He’s a good friend and I won’t let no one bad mouth Jimmy. I just let him be.

He mixed up with them dogs for a long time and picked up a bad case of fleas, but they was getting on real well. He’d hold them and they’d lick the tears from his cheeks and I just kept digging my hole. It was getting real deep and I was finding tree roots and things, broken bits of glass. Got it in my head there might be something of value down there, like some treasure. That kept me real busy for a long time. I like to keep myself clean you know so I kept my distance from Jimmy and them dogs and one day I realize Jimmy’s gone. Can’t find him nowhere and then I find them dogs. Actually I heard the flies before I saw them dogs. I just followed the sound and there they were. At first I thought they’d killed Jimmy and eaten him or something, but really I can’t rightly say what happened there but that them dogs were dead and all tore up. Looked like they’d had quite a scuffle and Jimmy was gone. All I can guess is that Jimmy won. I never asked him about it, nor do I plan to.

I went back to my hole, but somehow it just wasn’t the same not knowing where Jimmy was or if he was ok, so I set out looking for him. Seems like we was always getting into some kind of adventure and seeing him again always made it seem like he’d been there all along with me where ever I was. You know, because we’re doing the same thing. Because we’re together.

I hear people talk a lot you know and I’m a good learner. I got a way of staying out of sight as well. Don’t nobody set eyes on me lessen I want them to and I hardly ever want anyone to, even Jimmy. That’s just the way I am. There’s nothing wrong with it. Means I have a different sort of living than most people. Jimmy helps me out when I need things I can’t get myself. Mostly I do okay. I mean sometimes I listen in so close it’s like I’m with those people and they know me and see me but they don’t and I like that. I get plenty of learning done that way.

When I first slid up to shore in Missouri on my log it was just dawn and I’d been in the water all night and I had a chill and my legs was all cramped up. I looked like one of them witches people put on telephone poles at Halloween, you know the ones where she’s all smushed up cause she hit the pole. The river’s strange like there’s a temper to it, like it’s looking you over real close. Sometimes it pushes you forward real fast like it wants to be rid of you, sometimes it tries to roll you over and get a look at the other side, sometimes it stops you up short like it’s got an idea what to do next, then it just turns you around, tries to suck you down or something. Whenever it slowed me down, I just gripped on tighter and tried to stay on top best I could and I could hear that chain rattling in the water where the river sucked at it like a bit of floss. Weren’t no telling where I was going to end up, but it sure wasn’t up to me. Must have been the river knew where I needed to go.

I stumbled onto shore there on that island and chained up my log to a tree. It was hard to walk so I kind of stumbled around till I found my footing. There was some kind of fishing cabin there close by and it looked like no one was home so I went on in and sure enough there were some poles by the door and they even had a window that sort of hung over the river and you could fish right there. There was even a place to put the pole. So I tossed a couple lines in and looked around. I found a dry shirt that didn’t smell too good, but was better than mine. I did my best to wash up and by the time I was back to them poles, I had a carp on the line and, I’m not proud, I ate the damn thing. I was hungry. There was a gas stove and everything, pans, you name it.

I thought I might hide out there for a little while. Get some rest and come nighttime, go look for Jimmy. So I laid me down tucked in a corner with an ear to the wall and one to the door and had this dream. I don’t remember much of it but I was flowing along like on the river but I was standing still. I can’t explain.

Turns out there was this kind of road across the cut stream on up to the far shore and you could walk across the water as it was only a couple inches deep and there was this two track under there. It was real interesting how somebody done that. You know, how does a person do a thing like that for themselves? Whoever it was, he had a nice setup and I was real happy to make use of it. It was a little chilly still, so there were no skeeters. I moved up the bank and onto the levee. There was a two track right on top of it, so I walked along for a ways till I seen this man coming along walking his dog. That dog took scent of me and started baying and I ducked back down into the brush. A beagle. Short, fat beagle.

Jimmy likes dogs, not me. They’re always out to find you. I can stomach the strays, they don’t rightly care what you’re doing lessen it brings them some food. But a dog on a leash is the worst, they just got to yammer on about you and there you are singled out in a spotlight and all them dull eyes turning your way. I tucked myself up under these washed out roots to wait them out. Here I sit, cozy as a clam. Getting dark though.

I’m real good at hiding. It’s really just a matter of knowing what you’re hiding from. If you know that, then you know where they look and where they don’t and you just go where they won’t be looking and that’s it. It’s not like they out to find you really. When they are, they trying to figure out where you might be and for that they need to know who you are and where you might go and don’t nobody know me but Jimmy and if he were looking for me he’d have no trouble at all because I’d see him looking. If you want to hide worse than they want to find you, it’s not too hard really. I’ve gotten real good at it ever since I was a kid. People are easy, but a dog on a leash I just steer clear of.

August 9, 1992
This towns a goodun. All sorts a empty houses and such, clean as a whistle. Furniture and everything. What make a person go and up and leave everything, pots and pans included? Just don’t make sense lessen you got to travel real light like sneakin off in the night with someone else’s chickens.

Got something hatchin’. I could lay low here right in the middle of um. Watch it all go on. Theys got a piano in this particular place. It’s all broke up but still, kinda homey some how. Had me a misadventure comin round here. Went in through the back winder and pulled up face to face with a nasty pile of haff et vermin sucked bones and guts and stuff. Well I juss lay low like I always done but I gets to thinking about who’d a dun that and just tear on out. I won’t have no part of it. I move right on to the next un, this un here. It’s real nice, got a pretty staircase, pretty paint on the walls. Musta had a lick a kids. Got all kinds a kids rooms with bunk beds and such. Like summer camp. I even found clean sheets in the cupboard. Clean sheets. Hot damn. No water though. I’m tucked up in this here bunk lookin out at the stars over town. It’s real purty. I always wanted my own room when I’s a boy. Never could get hid real good back then. Nows it come so easy I ain’t got to try. I’s sittin here like this just lookin out over all them houses, narry a one with any light coming out a um. Just huddled here in my clean sheets and some dusty old blankets wonderin what Jimmy’s doin. I just seen a big ole dog come out that nasty house next door. Come out the winder I went in. Jumped on through and stood there a while, nose in the wind. I hid. Never saw what come next. Thought it might be a problem for someone though, maybe Jimmy. Seem like that dog mussa been shut up in there and shore wanted free. Wunder where he got to? Seem like I made something happen there. Just like anything. Boomers’ll catch you don’t keep your head down. Gotta watch myself.

August 15, 1992
Take those others over there. He don’t give a damn bout that. Those there’s not worth a hank of rope. I been lookin, waitin and sittin eatin’ pie. It’s Jimmy there went outside and all. He can have it. I like watchin from here. Them fool folks havin a picnic in broad daylight like it were the fourth of July. I keep my hands to myself is all, like they told me. Keep my nose clean. Wouldn’t mind some of that barbeque but that’s the way is all. You wind up to pitch, you might get that ball in the mitt again. Till then, the whole game is you. That’s where I’m at is all, holding all the cards. I got me this pie though. Makes me glad they’s all painting the church. Left this sucker sittin on a chair like a crown and the king gone to take a piss.

Haven’t had rhubarb pie since I can remember. Maybe mama made it, can’t rightly recall. She had her hands in a lot of pots. No wait, yeah we had that big old patch by the back corner near the porch. All red veined and a killer by the leaves. Just them red fat stems is all. Tighten your lips it sure would. She’d let us dip em in the sugar bowl and eat em like a stick of celery. This here pies plenty good at that. Who knows what else I’ll catch me.

Jimmy’s over there talking like he’s always talking these days, making friends I guess with these here people like he belongs with them. That preacher bending his ear something fierce though, likin to tear him a new one. Must be about them dogs. Shoot, it’s clear as day to anyone look close. They’s got a taste for the hunt is all. Ain’t nothing to keep em from it. They’s just runnin mad’s all, sowin some oats. They’s bound to scuffle, bound to take some lickins and dish em out as well. Why not? Here comes old Jimmy.

Listen, I don’t want no part of this. It all makes me real nervous. I can’t help it you know, it’s just my condition acting up. I’m just going to slide over to camp, see how the Jessop’s tomatoes coming along.