Hobo & His Gundog

PROLOGUE

"It's hard to believe that there's nobody out there 

It's hard to believe that I'm all alone

At least I have her love, the city, she loves me."

--- "Under the Bridge", off the album Blood Sugar Sex Magik (1991)

Under the clear crescent moonlight in Mississippi, a brisk wind broke out the nightfall as its pre-Christmas blessing to the state, but only abandoned, outgrown weeds and lonely streetlights at the sidewalk were there to catch its groovy waves.

The streets tonight were fully occupied with vehicles, no doubt; it was Thanksgiving Day: a national holiday filled with the smell of baked pumpkin pies, roasted turkey as the main highlight for dinner, laughter and beautiful blessings.

It was a rare moment for Tchula residents to hold a peaceful nighttime like this. Harmonic sounds made of extra good few sets of cutlery from the busy kitchen for tonight's family reunion meal. Small conversations and excessive laughing. Shadows of people dancing gracefully with music in the background were illuminated on the closed curtains. Cheers! Another clinking sound echoed when drinking glasses were touched and shortly continued by great cackle. And the celebration went on the whole evening.

It was not easy to stay in Tchula, especially for this poor young girl. Crowned as the poorest town among the others in Holmes County in Mississippi, and a plus point that she was one of the mere three-percent Whites among the Black-dominating community, life was hard there.

And life got harder when it was at times like tonight. Underneath that oversized red and black checkered scarf, Dani was wearing one of the thickest, warmest long skirts she could find out of her closet. She was strolling along the sidewalk, allowing both the dark and the cold to engulf her petite, shuddering figure. Tilting her small face downwards, the hem of her basic grey skirt caught her attention. She then stared at how her long brunette hair and the hem swayed lightly along with the direction of the wind.  

What was to harvest when there was zero blessings to begin with, she thought. There was no one she can give her thanks to. Not to her parents. Not to her friends. Not to the neighborhood she lived in. And definitely not to God. There was nothing this magical man above the clouds has done that was favorable to her nineteen years of lifetime.

Another strong brisk blew mercilessly across her slim body. This time it hit her rosy-red, freckled cheeks, chills sent shivers right down her spine. Following the direction of the blow, her soulless dark hazel eyes were glaring into the woods where none of the lights were able to penetrate through its rich natural resources. Dani stared and waited for something to appear from the dark space. It could be a pair of reflecting green eyes, maybe a hungry wolf? It could be a poacher with a shotgun. Aliens. Whatever.

It seemed that the dark has won this time round and invaded into her empty soul. Those nasty memories were coming back to live and slowly killing her again.

X                                        X                                    X 

There were always a period of time where Dani questioned her existence. She knew she was a burden to her parents, her family since she was born. Throughout her schooling years she hated the environment she was living. Her black classmates were always around her to find opportunities to bully -- setting her with horrible names, stealing her homework, reporting to the teachers on things she did not condone, and the worst part was making fun of her on the reason her momma was suicidal and ill because she hated the fact that her daughter was born ugly and not "being black". 

Those overlapping lines of scar tissues on her wrists and her thighs indicated how much she have had suffered and somehow gone through. Those pointless racist jokes, broken textbooks and disgusting friends were all physically carved onto her pale white skin. It was unlike the novels she have had read back in the public library, because no one was there to stop the bullies and none of them stood up to defend her or even try to cheer her up after every blast she got from those ugly-hearted people.

She was a broken child whom the mother was suicidal and the father was a drunkard.

She was a depressed human being.

She was a broken-hearted darling.

With those thoughts and feelings lingered in her mind, Dani sighed deeply as she revealed the last stick from a crumpled cigarette pack. She took a breather and exhaled, hoping to get rid of all the trouble out of her tired soul. The smell of burning dried tobacco leaves stubbornly stained in and out of her. She hated smoking.

Looking up to the bright crescent moon, she stood still and smiled faintly.

Lonely as I am, together we cry.