The Feet of God

6 - SO SHALL WE REAP

My grip on my make-do bedding must’a loosened, as a stiff morning breeze lifted my cardboard duvet and blew it aside like so much trash.  I figured it was time to get up anyhow, and I massaged my eyes and lifted myself from the box springs of crushed succulents.  First things first, I went and found a nearby bush while Nature called.

After relieving myself I still had that strange dream in my head, what little I could recollect or make sense of.  Dreams are crazy that way.  Did Billy Peevy tell me there was some answer waiting for me in Florida?  What was the question?  I don’t remember him actually saying such a thing, or even saying a word at all.

The first light of day revealed the barren and bereft landscape surrounding me:  concrete, smashed ice plants and a dying oleander.  Up on the interstate the caravan of cars and trucks continued to rush by.  And I was still alone down here.  Or so I thought.  A battered pickup suddenly materialized by the roadside right next to where I was standing.  It was like a miracle

“Need a ride?”

And I couldn’t believe it.  I was just offered a ride by a gal with a blonde ponytail, big blue eyes and a plaid flannel shirt strained at the pockets to diminish her bodacious femininity.  I jumped at the invitation, and ran over to the passenger side door and slid on in before this vision disappeared.

“The name’s Brown,” she firmly took hold of my hand.  “Roberta Brown.  But everyone calls me Bob.  Just plain Bob.”  She continued pumping away.  “So what’s your name?”

“I’m….”

Before I could answer she swerved the pickup sharply to the right.  “Jackass!” she shouted out the window.  Bob’s attempt to merge into traffic had been cut off by an eighteen-wheeler that passed us by and nearly took out her pickup’s back end in the process.  Almost took out our mortal lives, too.

“Damn, that was close.  You all right?”

“Think so.”

“Now, where’d you say you were going?”  Bob looked over her shoulder to see if it was safe to move into the next lane, but she was still paying attention to our conversational flow.

“Florida,” I repeated.  This time I meant business.  “Florida.”

“Okay, Florida it is,” she winked at me.  “But let’s get something to eat first.”

I was startled when Bob unexpectedly tossed a heavy book into my lap.  I examined the cover:  All This and Heaven Too:  The Itinerant’s Guide How to Turn Spare Change into Cash to Spare, While Traveling on The Path.  There was a picture of some freaky looking hippie dude named Krishna Merman below the title.

“What’s this?”

“That, my friend, is The Path of the Loud Enlightened One.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s our meal ticket.”

I started flipping through the pages.  “I still don’t get it.”

“This is how we score a free lunch or complimentary Continental breakfast or find a local chapter of Food Not Bombs.  Our Master, Krishna Merman, spent decades writing the sacred texts as he traversed the country.  From his hitchhiking travels he gleaned where the wealth of the universe had fallen, and he shared where his inspired followers could go to get their piece.”

“Whattaya mean the wealth of the universe had fallen?”

“Open your eyes.  There’s plenty of good shit and stuff out there, and all for free, and that book in your hands reveals The Path of how to pluck it.”

“Pluck it?”

“Pluck it, pluck it, pluck it!”  Bob practically splattered the words in my face with spit.  “Look, this is the richest nation on the face of the planet, and by the grace of Krishna Merman we have been instructed how to receive all that is rightfully due us.  The Master’s teachings are about The Path of Seeking, Finding and Reaping.”

“I’m lost.”

“Just look behind the seat.”  Bob shifted gears.

I looked back and discovered a bunch’a defrosting turkeys.

“What the—?”

“Got two dozen of ‘em.”  Bob sounded real proud.  “All free for the asking.  Got ‘em from different agencies and charitable outfits all up and down the coast.  Now check in the guide.  I think we’re coming up on Filler City.  Soup kitchens are alphabetical by town.  See if they got a hotspot for us, then we’ll unload some of these birds for gas.”