Farewell, Young Men

They endured four months of dusty, monotonous walks from the one-story adobe library, past the elementary school, police station and playground up the steps to the gazebo in the plaza. The sun hanging lower in the sky, the air crisper and nippier with each passing day. The Mountain, Wheeler Peak, always in the background, beckoning. The dark, wiry young men unpacked their cardboard guitar cases, attached their tuners and capos and strummed Brazilian and Hot Jazz chords. Unexpected music for this northern New Mexico town. Surprising songs for the start of winter.

They had stopped being friends weeks ago. Too many nights of close quarters, annoying habits and a lack of viable employment caused tensions to rise. But, they could not deny their musical chemistry. This is what carried them two-thousand miles, along hot hazy blue highways, in the hopes of finding fame and fortune. Taos is a harsh town. Quaint and quirky to the uninitiated, its underbelly of desperate spiritualism, relentless sunshine and massive joblessness belies the initial promise. They say that The Mountain" calls you in and The Mountain spits you out. It is no wonder that friendships crumble in this transitional place. The time had come for them to be spat out.

Their plan was to gather enough money to hop a Greyhound bus back to Florida,a complicated scheme that involved hitching a ride 3 hours to Albuquerque, traveling three days and being left off five hundred miles from home, but a few days before departure they met The Goddess. Nineteen year-old cheekbones that could cut glass sat high, just below her green glowing eyes. Wheat colored hair traveled down her thrift store sweater. They asked her to sing along and she did so, with gusto. The crowd couldn't wait for her to stop but to the young men, she sounded like a nightingale.

After they'd invited her back to the crash pad and shared some weed and day-old chili, she insisted they join her in a midnight swim at the hot springs. She insisted they remove all of their clothes, as she did. She insisted that sharing everything and everyone made for better friends. The young men did not argue. They became closer than they had ever been.

The next morning, The Goddess decided to drive them back to Florida. They could not refuse her offer.

And Then There Were The Ducks and Geese

So, there I was at the hot springs and mineral baths in Utah. Somehow, A blushing young man got my tent to stay up and I loaded all of my gear inside. I changed into my swimsuit and went down to the pools. Each one had a different temperature and combination of minerals. I swam and soaked and stood under waterfalls for hours. And then, an odd man wearing blue Crocs took them off and stood at one end of the largest pool and stared at me. After about 20 minutes, I swam over to him. He flirted with me and we talked about the smell of cow dung in the air. I pointed out the two white horses on a hillside that I had been watching all day. He told me he couldn't see them. He asked me to sleep with him. I declined. Then he looked me intently in the eyes and told me that it was important that I arrive someplace on a Saturday, close to 7 o'clock. 8pm would be too late. I had no idea what he meant. We shook hands underwater.

Later in the evening, (between 7 and 8 pm), I wandered down to the pond that was surrounded by a ragtag group of ducks and geese. Have I told you this before? Maybe I have, in 2010. All of the water fowl were unusual, in some way. Some had a broken wing, some were losing feathers. Another was missing a foot. When I walked towards them, they all formed a group and hoarded me towards a tree, across the way. I tried to move away from the birds and they came closer to me, forcing me back under. Then they returned to a marshy area, behind me. They went their separate ways, swimming or pecking or looking for food. Seeing as they were distracted, I got up to leave, again. The birds left their waters and marsh and came back to me, forming a semi-circle around me. I finally said "what do you want me to do?" I started searching the ground under the tree and found a bumpy place. I dug up the earth and found two railroad spikes, whose tops had been bent. The spikes looked a little like swan heads but when you put them together they formed a heart. After I had these in my hands, the geese and ducks let me leave.

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of birds squawking. When I looked outside of my tent, I was surrounded by the same ducks and geese. I have no idea why. I fed them some crackers and bread crumbs.

I kept the railroad spikes for several months, until I had to move and couldn't bring them with me.