Page 12 of Day Break

I sat on the hillside and once again watched the sun sink in the sky. Only this time, once I was engulfed in darkness, the cold wasn’t so bad.

Hugging my knees to my chest, I replayed the words from some of my favorite poems. Most of the ones I could remember at the moment were about the stars or the sunrise.

This time when I awoke, the dog was sitting over me, staring down at me.

When I opened my eyes, its tail thumped, and it dropped the apple right on my face. It hit my chin and fell to the grass beside my head.

I sat up and gave the dog a quick hug before cleaning off the apple and enjoying my breakfast. As before, I gave the dog the core and watched as it enjoyed the treat. While it was busy, I snuck a peak and found out that it was a boy.

He had no collar, no sign that he belonged to anyone other than he was extremely healthy and well fed. He was obviously someone’s pet.

When he was done with the core, he sat beside me for a few moments before turning and rushing off.

I thought about following him, but I didn’t want his owner to know I was there. If there was a house nearby, they certainly wouldn’t want a homeless ex-con camping out near their property.

As with the day before, I spent some time bathing in the water. Only this time, I kept my hair dry by piling it on the top of my head. I was not going to spend another three hours trying to get the tangles out of it again.

As I was drying, I pulled out the worn copy of Don Juan and read the book once more. I spent the rest of my day pretty much the same way I had the one before.

By the third morning, I was positive that the dog would be there again when I opened my eyes. When he wasn’t, I instantly worried.

I had learned a lot over the past year. The number one lesson had been not to trust anyone. Well, okay, I’d learned that one long before stepping foot into a cell.

Still, I’d been foolish back then. Today, I was no fool.

I knew I needed water and food. I was weak from the lack of both. Whenever I stood up, everything went white for a moment until I blinked and bit my bottom lip so hard that I could taste blood.

I also had to check in with my parole officer by the end of the day, so I’d have to walk some more and find a pay phone.

I waited almost a full hour for my furry friend to show up. When he didn’t, I tossed my bag over my shoulder and set off through the thick brush surrounding my hiding spot and back down the road.

It took me almost an hour of walking down empty streets, past the occasional home, before I luckily stumbled upon a convenience store.

They had outside bathrooms and the first thing I did was use the facilities and the hand soap to wash myself.

The tampon vending machine was broken and, thankfully, there were four tampons inside that I immediately shoved in my bag. There were also two rolls of toilet paper sitting on the back of the toilet that I took as well. The soap was in one of those liquid dispensers attached to the wall, so I had to make do with washing myself for the time being.

I refilled the water bottle that I’d saved from the old man’s lunch three times and drank it dry. Then I filled it one last time and shoved it into my bag. I instantly wished I had several more bottles to fill up.

But now that I knew the bathrooms and fresh water were only a forty-five-minute walk away, I figured I could make the journey more often.

I spent a few minutes combing my hair and braiding it. I smelled and felt so much better. My reflection in the cracked mirror confirmed that I didn’t look homeless. I looked like someone who had just taken a day hike.

Pasting on a smile, I walked into the store. The smell of burgers and fries hit me, and I almost doubled over with hunger pains. Then I noticed that to the side of the small store sat a diner.

Most of the tables were filled with people eating their meals and chatting. The noise was almost deafening after spending the last couple of days alone with only the sound of nature to keep me company.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked, glancing up from a crossword puzzle book. Her eyes ran over me cautiously.

She was middle-aged, slightly overweight. She wore a bright green shirt and had short matching hair. Each of her fingers had at least two rings on them, and her nails were also painted green.

I walked over to stand across the counter from her. “I was hoping you had a pay phone or maybe a phone that I could borrow?” I asked in a cheerful voice.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “There used to be a pay phone out front. I’m not sure it works anymore.” She waved her hand to the door. “If not, I suppose you could borrow this one inside. Just as long as it’s a local call.”

“Thank you, I’ll check outside first.” I turned to go.

I’d been so excited about using a toilet and washing off, I hadn’t looked for the phone.