I roamed for weeks, begging for food or money and sleeping in the open. The full bloom of summer made my nights more comfortable as did the knit poncho someone had given me. Yet, each sunrise brought less light to my life. How could I keep going like this? I wanted a bed, a shower, and a real meal. More than that, I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I wanted a friend. A kind soul to shelter me from the reality of the scary world I lived in.
Distracted by self-pity, I took a drink from my canteen, stood, and started walking again, paying little attention to the road. I didn’t need to. It was the same with every town. I drifted in, stayed a day—any more than that drew attention to my begging—and drifted out after buying some food. Then, I walked until I came to the next town. Sometimes, it was the same day. Sometimes, it took more than a day. I figured it didn’t really matter as long as I kept moving.
Hours later, the pavement ended and turned into a narrow dirt road. I kept walking. It wasn’t until the sun kissed the treetops that I really looked around. There was nothing but trees and the dirt road on which I stood. No, not true.
A sign stood sentinel in the overgrown ditch. I stared at it, not reading the words but focusing on the numbers. Over one hundred miles separated me from the next town. I turned around and looked back the way I’d come. Nothing but the narrow road and trees. How long had I been walking? How many nights had I slept against a tree?
The leaves rustled in the light breeze as I stood there trying to decide what to do. I didn’t have much food left. The container of water I’d refilled yesterday at a creek beside the road was still fine, though.
With a tired sigh, I kept walking.
Just before dark, I spotted a trail that led away from the road. Waist-high grass covered the breadth of the path. No trees obstructed it, however, and I wondered if it was an old logging trail. Nothing about it seemed welcoming. In fact, dusk had already sent most of the track into shadow. Yet, for some reason, I felt compelled to walk the lane as if the universe were again answering my “what next?” question.
I started forward, parting the grass. The trail seemed never ending, and as I walked, night claimed the sky. Only the soft glow of the moon kept me from wandering lost.
The trees ended abruptly and revealed a large clearing with several buildings. Excitement and relief filled me. Finally, a bed. Then, as I studied the dark and quiet structures, a sense of abandonment touched me. Moonlight glinted off the broken glass in a few of the windows. Weeds crowded against the walls and surrounded the stubby porch.
The buildings were alone and forgotten, but it didn’t matter. The largest of them appeared to have a solid roof, and that was more than I’d had in weeks.
I waded through the grass and stepped up onto the sagging porch. Thankfully, the boards held my weight. I reached out and pulled the latch on the large door. The panel quietly swung open, and the scents of must and dust drifted out. An abyss waited just inside.
I eased the backpack from my shoulders, and from an outside compartment, I withdrew a lighter. It sparked to life on the first strike and created a pocket of light. It was bright enough to see my way as I stepped over the threshold into a large, empty room.
Weathered boards lined the floor and made up the walls. In a straight horizontal line, a few rusty nails poked from the boards near the door. An obvious place to hang coats. I slowly made my way into the interior, swinging the lighter back and forth to see.
On the far side of the room, I found a hallway. I wandered down its length and watched the spider webs that clogged the ceiling disappear as my flame neared.
When I came to a partially closed door, I paused to nudge it open with my foot. It was just an empty room with a broken window. I moved on until I found another door. Each room I found equally disappointed me. There was never a bed, just broken glass and leaves that mingled with the dust on the floors. Yet, the number of rooms amazed me.
When I found a set of stairs, I carefully ascended and continued to check doors until I found a room that still had a whole window. The window afforded a view of the moonlit clearing. The weak light through the window was enough to see by, so I extinguished the lighter and closed the door.
Exhausted from a day of walking, I was ready to sleep even without the bed I’d hoped for. Using my bag as a pillow, I made myself comfortable on the floor. As I lay in the moonlight, I wondered what I’d found here. Based on what I’d seen outside, the buildings were definitely not new. Yet, they weren’t falling apart either. There were so many rooms, all of varying sizes. I wondered if perhaps this was an old commune or something.
I exhaled slowly and shut my eyes, listening to the night sounds. It didn’t take me long to drift off, but I woke often since the hard floor was more uncomfortable than the ground.
By morning light, I stood with a slow stretch. My spine cracked in several spots, and I felt sore.