TIME FOLLOWS ME

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT SURE WOULD BE NICE

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

SURE WOULD BE NICE

I thought about this unspoken daydream. I wanted to find a farm and live there with all friends all 'round me. We would throw out all the furniture except for maybe a couch and put mattresses in every room. I imagined we would sleep late, grow all our own food and drive into town in an old pick-up truck to pick up beers and fresh supplies. We wouldn't have to explain ourselves to anyone. We would accept the "looks" from the "counter girls" at the supermarket, "What are they doing out on that farm? I hear they have tea parties, run around naked and all sleep together."

I would convert the old barn into a rehearsal space and we would rock and roll 'til the cows came home. We would play all night, 'til the rooster crowed at the break of day, letting us know it was time we could go to sleep. The apples in the orchard would always be red and shining with nary a worm to be found. We would have a few horses and go off riding through the cornfields. I would be with my true love, maybe it would be Mary Beth or maybe someone I haven't met yet.

We would go skinny dipping in the old pond. At night we would sit on the porch and play guitar and sing under the close twinkling stars. For fun we would walk over to the old swing beneath the maple and I would push my love and watch her hair gently swing back and forth in the summer breeze. In not too long, sometime later, she and I would have a few kids. They would race out under giant constellations, The Big Dipper, instead of going to bed, laughing and calling for us to give them one last push on the swing, under the ancient tree, before they took that night train ride to morning town.

I walked and walked along this semi-deserted road and wondered what in the world I was doing on this little side road. I should have maybe stuck to the big highway. Walking for me was as rare as hen's teeth 'cause my backpack was so bulky.

I decided to call it a night, crossed the ditch and climbed over a fence into a field of cows. I hoped there wasn't a bull or I would have to make a run for it. The night was warm and I pulled out my sleeping bag feeling exhausted. I don't remember eating anything and was thirsty but had nothing to drink. Looked up at the stars and saw fireflies coming out. They blinked on and off between the stars, as I followed them with my eyes. I was feeling peaceful, enjoying the feel of grass under my head and back. I rolled up my jean jacket as a pillow. Rebecca had borrowed my jacket one day in Booneville and wouldn't tell me why she needed it. When she brought it back, she had embroidered into my breast pocket a heart, surrounded by flames, a "flaming heart". It was very beautiful and it meant a lot to me. I keep it to this day.

At what seemed like 'round midnight, I saw the glare of headlights through the grass and heard the roar of engines. Tires squealed and I could make out pick-up trucks burning smoking rubber. Sunk as low to the ground as I could, hoping the headlights flashed over me, and I wouldn't be seen. The thought of "rednecks" and I didn't want to mix with them out here in the wilderness. It wouldn't be a good situation. Seems that I found myself on their favourite stretch of racing road. They eventually roared off into the dark leaving me undiscovered. I counted my blessings and offered a brief prayer of thanks.

Morning came early, the mist rising off the fields. I thanked the cows for their good company and hopped back over the fence to the road. I examined the long dark tire squeal marks on the tarmac. I was glad when someone going to work picked me up.

"Sometimes you're going so fast

Way out of control

You step out onto some highway

Just another burnt out soul."

"Sure Would Be Nice- Songs for Mezz"