Chapter One

I left that afternoon without saying goodbye to anyone. I guess I had been saying goodbye for quite a while in subtle ways and no one was begging me to stay or for that matter giving me much of a reason to hang around.

I took the old car. I had paid for both of them, but leaving anybody with a bag of bolts that was passing for an automobile just wasn't in me. I don't like the idea of curses following me through the ether as I am passing through the next state, which this time was Oklahoma heading west. How I had ended up in Arkansas made no more sense in looking back at it than why I left New York, but now the road to California stretched out in front of me and it all seemed very reasonable. I tuned the radio... all I could get was AM stations; something had happened to the FM reception about a month ago and it just played static mixed with faint voices and music, so I had become satisfied with what I had and now I was cranking that dial, finding a new station in every tiny town I passed.

And suddenly, there it was... and it was everything I imagined. At one moment I was on a desolate stretch of quiet highway climbing a long sloping hill and then at the crest I was like someone who had been in purgatory suddenly seeing paradise or a thirsty desert traveler going over a sand dune and finding some lively Arabian bazaar right there in the middle of the Sahara. It had blinking lights and colors and the activity of dozens of vehicles moving in and out and lots of people arriving all dressed in their western garb, laughing and greeting each other like old friends. I could see a movie marquee style billboard that said, in black letters,

"Johnny Wilcox and the Prairie dogs... Tonight thru Saturday." And under that it said...

"Thursday night special... Roast Beef and Fried Chicken."

Lou's held promise. People eating and drinking and talking. Ah... the prospects that could unfold in that kind of environment. My heart actually beats a little faster when I get into that mood of anticipation of what adventure might present itself whenever I am outside of any establishment like this... but, usually it's nothing more than a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie and the kaleidoscope of strange and wonderful people for me to watch like a big cat hiding in the parma grass observing some grazing gazelles in one of those discovery channel animal documentaries. I saw dozens of cars and a few trucks filling the graveled parking lot. Light beamed from large plate glass windows which were neatly framed indications of lively activity within, like four movie screens showing the ongoing drama of a busy roadside rural cafe with a soundtrack of a loudly hissing huge neon sign that spelled out "Lou's" in giant blue characters, letter by letter, just hesitating and quivering each time it got to the "u" and then moving on to repeat the sequence over and over. My tires made that, oh so satisfying, gravel scrunching sound as I maneuvered across the lot, which had occasional sprigs of grass popping up through the bits of crushed rock.

I was looking for a space close to the front, at least where my vehicle would be lighted from the windows, because one of my doors didn't lock quite right and the trunk was being held closed with the kind of wire farmers use to bind up bales of hay. There always seemed to be a lot of that kind of wire everywhere in Arkansas. I was carrying everything I had in the back seat and the trunk and although losing most of my possessions wouldn't have really mattered much, I had my computer (which I didn't want to lose) and dozens of printouts of half started stories stuffed into boxes and manila envelopes and I could envision some bumbling thief leaving the clothing and the DVD player and feeling the stacks of paper in the dark thinking that all those envelopes and boxes probably contained stacks of cash and taking them all only to discover later that it was just words and then throwing it all away out their car window scattering them all along the road as they realized their disappointment. A space appeared directly in front and as I eased into it I could see heads turning to gaze out to see who or what just pulled in. As I got out, I had the feeling that Lou's must be the gathering place for this little spot in the wilderness and I probably would be one of only a few travelers in the place.