Shadow Effect

What is a Boscov's Doing Here in Bum Fuck, USA

The rest of July went fast. I always hate that time of year. I am a Fall person, so I am always eager for it to stop being hot and humid so I could wear my boots and pick pumpkins.

I woke up on a Sunday, the first of the month. I always liked that, when the first fell on Sunday, because it aligns well with a calendar. I could hear music coming from the radio out on the patio from the bed, so this meant Jer was already up doing yard work. We did that every Sunday. During the day, we did what was needed outside. I'd make something special and tasty to eat and we would clean the inside of the house after.

I got up to find that he made some food and saved me some. This was a rare occasion and I was grateful because I was famished. I made my coffee up and went outside into the yard. The air was thick with moisture and it clung to my skin right away. The sky was clouded over though, not awfully hot. My beloved corgis came to greet me good-morning. This, along with the sweet-smelling breeze, quiet, and the delightful taste of my coffee made me feel genuine happiness in the moment. I was thankful of where I ended up. I actually had been thinking much of my past those weeks. Couldn't deny the vivid dreams about it either.

Since the Wednesday before, I began having nightmares each night. They never started out as threatening, but would slowly become more contorted and aggressive. Each had a different plot, but all ended the same way, with me running away in terror. They were hard to remember once awake despite feeling so damn real. I could remember general things: the beginning was some event from my past, things would go wrong, and when I'd run, it was away from a red glow. My path always dark and surroundings always vague and blurry at that point. But there was always the red, and voices; one male and one female. I could not recognize who the man was and what he said, but I knew the other right away. It was a voice that taunted me my first year of high school. Her voice screamed out at me in my dream something she would say, "FUCKING KILL YOURSELF BITCH".

The last part scared me awake every time. I'm not even sure what time I'd start dreaming, it felt like all night. It would always be morning when they ended. It felt like it took me longer and longer to wake myself up once the dream would take a turn toward nightmare. I had the dreams again Sunday and Monday night, but the night before my departure was a deep and dreamless sleep.

Wednesday, August 4, 6:00 AM: seated in an airport transport van with headphones in. It was still dark and had been raining all night. I was glad to have finally gotten good sleep. I wasn't too tired, and was ready to get to California and settle in. The flight time was short for me, about five and a half hours running on-time. Overseas took much longer. An hour later I found myself in the security line. There is always a line no matter what time of day at BWI, as populous an airport as it is. I get bored easily in these instances, and my imagination creates humorous scenarios for myself. I got a look at the man handling carry-on baggage by the X-ray scan.

I imagined myself stumbling up to him and giving him some insane facial expression while I plopped my bag into the plastic tub. "What's in the suitcase?" he would ask. "Two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole multicolored collection of uppers, downers, laughers, screamers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls" I'd tell him wildly. Anyone here ever watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas? It's a 1998 masterpiece captured by Terry Gilliam, but it's based off the novel by the great Hunter S. Thompson. My response to the security guard was a quote from this and one of my favorite characters, Raoul Duke. My fantasy dissolved as I actually got to the man, and my baggage was scanned without words between us. I had only wished I had sweet substance the likes of which described, but I was not about to try to hide anything at an airport.

I flew to LAX and a cab service brought me to a remote town about two hours out of Los Angeles. I pulled up to a hotel at about 1:00PM Pacific time. I couldn't believe I was sent here.

I'm not new to small towns or anything. It reminded me a lot of where I grew up. I just couldn't believe the company would spend money to send me out here. The place was so small that I'd already seen the Boscov's store coming in on the only main road. As I suspected, it was on the end of a small shopping mall. This was the area where all business was located, save for the two bars and sparse family-owned establishments. From the stop light I could see the mall on the left, and residing there was a tattoo shop, dollar or less store, hair salon, grocery store, Chinese restaurant, two abandoned blocks, and finally the sad Boscov's department store. Across the highway on my right was a fast food chain restaurant, coffee shop, gas station, and beer store. Everything they need is right here. The smaller shops downtown had anything else residents might want. At the other end of town was lodging. These consisted of a scary-looking motel and the Grand Hotel (where I was staying). I got to my room on the sixth floor.

The room was fine enough. No mold or droppings anywhere. My company was decent enough to give me the best accommodations here, not that I'd be around much during the day because of the time of my shifts at the store. I did have a luxurious bath tub with jets, a puffy bed, and a mini-fridge full of alcohol, which was cordial.

I didn't start work until tomorrow, and my other day off  here would be a week away, so I had some time to dilly-dally. I took myself on a tour of the hotel and found an indoor pool with sauna and jacuzzi, a casino, and a bar room with tables and a stage. I checked out the bar room information, which told me the bar was open each night til 1AM, dinner served from 6-10, buffet for breakfast 8-11AM, lunch buffet 12-3PM, and entertainment events happened Friday and Saturday nights. This weekend was a jazz band. I do like jazz. I wondered if anyone would even come out for this, since I hadn't seen another guest yet. I made a note mentally that I'd spend Friday here and Saturday at one of the bars in hopes of socializing. I had a feeling it'd be a lonely week. Cell service was spotty here so I'd have to call Jer from my room landline. At least I had access to my downloaded music on my iPod Touch AND I remembered my iHome. Your girl would be drinking heavily here. I was going to try and make it as fun as possible.

I couldn't wait to eat at the lunch buffet. I do love my foods. I've never been a skinny girl. I try to exercise regularly, but, you know. I binged and made my way to the casino. I got some cigarettes at that bar and my favorite drink - gin and tonic. I'd quit smoking at age 20, but I could have one occasionally and not pick the habit back up, strangely. I did not win big but I did discover some other patrons were at the hotel. I had a weird anxiety about it truthfully, and as it was relieved I felt a bit silly.

I decided I was done betting money for the day, and I'd managed to waste some time. I wanted to finish my drink and go to dinner, then bathe and relax in my room either reading or watching something on PayPer View. Once I planned my night I thought about work the next day at 1:00PM and it occurred to me that I should secure transportation to the store. I could walk, but my calculations put that at about 40 minutes one way. Also was not comfortable with walking that at night in an unfamiliar setting. I didn't see a police station. I asked the bar tender about any bus system or taxi companies that service the town and explained my business here. There were neither, but there was a place to rent cars if you'd follow the highway two miles outside town. She was a sweet-looking, young girl and was actually kind enough to offer me a ride to the place in the morning, before her 9AM-6PM shift. Said to call her Kay. The company gave me a credit card for any travel expenses, so I offered to treat her to breakfast somewhere and $10 in gas for her troubles.

I followed my itinerary for the evening, finishing a movie by midnight. I decided I wanted one more cigarette and I located the open balcony on the second floor. Two sets of doors led to an outside area that took up most of the front of the Grand Hotel. It had a metal railing, where you could see down, and tables with umbrellas. I smoked and looked out at the street lights. There weren't as many as there should be. They had this yellow light, making the the town look pretty dark. I was startled out of my thoughts by what sounded like a metal blade being scraped off the railing. My head snapped to the other end of the balcony. I didn't see anybody around. No one hiding behind me or inside the double doors. Must've been one of the flags blowing in the wind. I tossed the cigarette and went inside.