THE DOG HUNTERS (completed)

38 - UP THE RODE

That was the last time I ever saw that kid.

I left him like a coward, because I am a coward. I told him I had to take a whizz and slunk out the back exit of Doug's Diner. I walked away without looking back. I couldn't handle the emotion, now that it was out.

I hiked up the hill, away from residential heaven, away from supermarkets and strip malls, and then cold corporate buildings looking sleek and out of place in the more and more natural surroundings. Ipassed clusters of condos like fungus on the foothills. Moldy motels pretending they were connected to Spruce Stadium in Mountain Town.

I ambled toward the boarder of Ace City and Mountain Town for no other reason than I was putting distance between myself and Doug's Diner. If I turned around and headed south at some point I'd pretty much hit my mom's old house. For a second I wondered if I should do that. But, I didn't want to, and I didn't want to head into MountainTown, because I'd always heard they were pretty aggressive about keeping their city clean, i.e., scraping people like me off the streets and throwing them in jail, or just beating them to death and leaving them in the woods for the bears to eat.

No Mountain Town meant trekking further north, into Rode's Hollow and then the foothills, maybe even to where Tinto might have wandered off to. Not that I wanted to spend anytime with Tinto (splitting on uswas an dickish move in the extreme, and anyway, my bet was without Lulubelle and the whole show he'd be completely unbearable).

Rode's Hollow was not a hollow, not like they have in West Virginia. It was one of the three little foothill communities that exist just north of Edendale, which according to drunk Tinto were just south of Another Valley and all its wonder and bullshit. The other two districts, or towns or whatever, were Crystal Hills (at the most western corner ofAce City) and Orange Pine, which was sandwiched in the middle.Crystal Hills, was the most ritzy – rich white people and a private security force, and traffic circles with fountains sporting multicolored lights. Orange Pine was full on ghetto. The minorities who hadn't been pushed south had ended up there. When I was ateenager, Orange Pine was where you bought your beer. It always used to trip me out, driving around up there, because at one point it had been the classiest place to live in the area, the houses were mostly old craftsman, and you never would have thought by looking around there were gangs or other "urban" problems going on.

Rode's Hollow wasn't rich or depressed, it was just seedy and weird.Generational white trash collected in musty trailer parks and little bungalows falling in on themselves, with the required collection of junked cars in the driveway. Everything basically overgrown andfunky, and nothing much of interest to anyone who occasionally dipped in from the outside.

I hiked up the steep Ludd street, which I vaguely remembered was RodeHollow's sort of a main thoroughfare. At the top would be the end of civilization, the start of wild nature. Maybe this was the part of my life where I just lived, became one of those dudes who builds himself a tent in the forest made out of Target shopping carts and plastic tarps and garbage. I did not fear I would keep walking and turn into Johnny Bobo – that wasn't a mission that seemed very appealing at that moment. So that was that.

Ludd, as it turned out, was not the main street. I missed the commercial district. Sparsely placed, dwellings gave way to more trees. When I reached the top there were still occasional street lights, but it was mostly full on forest. And occasional long windy driveways. I mused there must some rich families up here. There always were, even in a place like Rodes Hollow.

I imagined the sort of strange goofy people who'd make up a Rode's Hollow dynasty.

I imagined I was talking to Dr. Nurse again.

Why was I suddenly thinking about Dr. Nurse? Because he'd told me his family was from here, and they had to be rich, given all the richshit he'd filled me in on.

I slapped my pockets, and wouldn't you know it, but I still, for reasons that at the moment did not feel like chance, had his photo,with the address of the bunker scribbled on the back.

The smell of mulch and pine sap were strong enough to give me a headache.I stood under what appeared to be the last of the streetlights, and scrutinized the photo. I didn't know where anything was, but based on what he'd told me, this particular road had to be at the top somewhere, somewhere amongst the scrub and trees.

I was still feeling the Big Clock, still interested in staying with The Big Clock, so that meant finding shelter and getting some rest, soon.Still, I kept walking in the direction of Mountain Town. It was a clear night, the air was refreshingly chilly and sharp. Looking down you could see all the lights of Ace City merrily twinkling, like Christmas gone out of focus.