After sleeping in the parking lots of Wal-Mart and Denny’s, I headed to
Galveston, an island city of hotels. I drove along the coast of the Gulf of
Mexico. It was about 4 or 5 in the morning. I parked at a Kroger’s so I could
walk down to the beach. I stood there for a long time, out at the ocean,
mesmerized by the sound of waves slipping in and out.
I returned to the car to rest some more. The dawn came, cold and lifeless.
I had hoped it would be clear so that I could see the sun rise, but I was
denied.
Getting out again, I had some bread. As I tore off a chunk, a large seagull
landed near by. It regarded my bread hungrily. I tossed it a piece which it
swallowed with no grace at all. A few more gulls landed. I tossed a few
pieces of bread among them and they devoured the bread. I realized that seagull
s were ugly, vicious birds. Suddenly I was surrounded by about twenty of
them. In numbers they know no fear. They hovered around me, forming a
flying dome of hungry birds. It was truly frightening. I jumped in my car
before I could get whitewashed, pecked or carried away.
After a while the birds left.
It was around this time that I thought about returning to Indiana. I was
supposed to go to this job fair in Indy Friday afternoon. I then realized that
I had grossly underestimated how long it would take me to return. I needed to
leave Texas as soon as possible.
But my mission was not yet complete. I wanted to wade out into the ocean.
I put on some shorts and headed back to the beach. Most other people were
wearing jackets since it was cold. But I had slept through a Minnesota
winter night unscathed and such things no longer bothered me.
On the beach I took off my shoes and socks and waded out into the surf
with my camera. I took some pictures and collected some sand and water in
a bottle to take back to Alex.
Hopping back in my car, probably laughing, I headed out of Texas and towards
Louisiana. Louisiana is a lot like Dagobah, except its sunier and there are
paved roads. Otherwise, its just a lot of swamps full of scaly creeping
things.
It was in this state that I had Cop Encounter #3.
The cop pulls me off the road and gestures that I get out of the car and
stand between my car and his. This cop was short, but built like a wall of
bricks. Tanned and serious. Of course he had to know where I was going and
where I had come from. He couldn’t believe that I had wanted to visit Texas
for spring break.
He explained that I had been going 71 in a 65 mph zone. And then he asked
me, get this, “What’s yer big hurry?” I’m going six miles over the limit and
I’m in a hurry? They must take things pretty slow here in Louisiana. I told
him that I just wasn’t paying attention. He wanted to see my vehicle registration.
As I opened the passenger door and reached for the glove compartment,
he stopped me and asked if I had any guns in there.
Weapons? Me?! I told him “no.”
After he looked at the registration, he had me stand away from the car as
he returned to his own vehicle. He opened the rear passenger door and brought
out a leash. Next thing I know he’s bringing out this dog to take a pee in
the grass. I didn’t recognize the breed and figured it was vat grown,
genetically engineered to perform the duties of a police dog. He trotted the
dog over to my car and walked it around twice, letting the thing get a good
sniff. Drugs, of course. The dog seemed satisfied that I was not harboring
bricks of hash and nodded up to the cop.
They let me go with a warning.
I had been stopped three times now in three different states. I was feeling
pretty notorious and invincible.
As I continued to drive through the swamp state, I was constantly tempted
to stop at a crocodile farm or Cajun restaurant, but i was short on time.
Soon (well, relatively soon) I was in Mississippi. While passing along
a stretch of green forest, I noticed a dead armadillo lying by the side of the
road. One of my only regrets is that I didn’t stop and bring it with me so
I could walk into Jeff’s room and say, “Hey, look what I found!”
As I approached the state border, night began to fall.