Hope
It was a grey chilly summer day in San Francisco and Frank was daydreaming about warm afternoons in southern California. He remembered the sultry embrace of the sun on his face and endless days that seemed to crawl towards sunset like a summer creek meandering across a meadow.
Without thinking Frank shoved a few clothes and a toothbrush in a duffle bag and headed for the door. He shivered in the chilly damp air as he trudged up Army Street towards the freeway with his thumb pointed out.
He was lost in thought about balmy summer evenings on the beach when a VW bus pulled over. The driver was wearing wire rimmed glasses that rested on his long thin nose. A smile cracked his lean angular face as he waved Frank over to the old weathered bus. He was the picture of cool and Frank wondered why Mr. Hippyness would pick up a loser like him.
He leaned over and shouted over the noisy bus and traffic,
“Hey, I’m heading to San Jose, you going that far?”
The door protested with a low squeak as Frank pulled it open.
“Yup, I’m headed down to L.A. ”
They slapped their hands together in greeting.
“I’m Paul, good to meet you.”
“You too bro, I’m Frank.”
The bus was old but immaculate. The dashboard was chipped and dull but pristine. Frank snapped on his seat belt and off they went. The small engine sputtered and growled like a muted snare drum as Paul wrangled the floor shift back, over and back again until they were bumping their way down the 101 freeway. The aged bus played a symphony of pops, squeaks and rattles that filled their ears with a rhythmic melody of machinery.
Now that the handshake and greeting was over Frank didn’t know what to say, so he drank in the smells and sounds of life on the road. It was good to be going somewhere and the familiar sensations brought him comfort. He settled into his bubble of safety and stared out the window.
After a long stretch of freeway Paul’s voice jerked him awake from his visions of nothing.
“So, where are you going?”
The question wormed its way into Frank’s consciousness and caused his silent barricades to come crashing down. Anxiety stormed the gates and quickly replaced his soothing revery.
He was face to face with reality and he didn’t like it. Where was he going?
He mumbled, “Somewhere better.”
Paul looked over at Frank and chuckled.
“Well, I hope you get there because this is my stop.”
He pulled the bus off the freeway and pulled over to let his lost rider out. Frank mustered a cool grin and thanked Paul for the ride.
He didn’t know exactly where he was but he stuck out his thumb and headed toward the South 101 onramp. He had only taken a few steps when he heard a honk behind him. A dingy 1962 Apache pickup pulled over to the curb. It may have been blue at one time but the layers of dust and mud made it hard to tell what color it was now.
A woman with long dark hair and a round face waved him over. He hustled over to the truck and the woman smiled, “Where you headed?”
Frank saw a guy with long tangled dark hair and a dark beard casually gripping the steering wheel.
“I’m headed south.”
The driver nodded and the woman slid over the bench seat next to him.
“Hop in.”
Frank tossed his duffle into the back of the truck, and stepped into his new ride. He closed the door with a solid thunk and they headed towards the on ramp. Frank inhaled slowly and noticed a hint of pine smell. There was something about these two that he found appealing. They looked like a poster from the hippie chic department at the Salvation Army store. The dark haired driver was wearing patched faded jeans and a faded white t-shirt that had a Cock-a Doodle Doo Day Camp logo on the front. The worn, stretched shirt was fighting a losing battle covering his slightly rounded midsection. He grinned at Frank with a genuine sincereness that made Frank feel welcomed.
All of the woman’s clothes appeared to be hand made. She had on a loose fitting white blouse that reached down to a flowing gypsy skirt. The florid skirt flowed freely around her ample figure. Her warm maternal demeanor made Frank comfortable and uneasy at the same time.
She placed a gentle hand on Frank’s shoulder and said, “Hi, I’m Jessica and this is Richie.” Frank smiled at the gracious couple, “I’m Frank, what’s happening?”
Richie merged the truck into traffic and moved the column shifter smoothly into second gear. The truck was much quieter than the VW bus as they cruised onto the freeway.
Jessica smiled at Frank and told him they were headed down route one. “I hope you’re not in a hurry. We like to take our time and enjoy the ride.”
Frank nodded and looked out the window as he said goodbye to San Jose. They rode through Morgan Hill and Gilroy as Jessica talked almost constantly. Frank didn’t mind, her voice was pleasant and soothing. He yawned as they passed San Juan Batista and through the tunnel of eucalyptus trees that stood guard over the highway. One moment Frank was enjoying the beautiful coastline of Big Sur and the next moment he felt someone gently nudging his shoulder.
“Frank, wake up. This is your stop.”
He looked out the window of the old truck but couldn’t see much past the headlights. Jessica and Richie shared a soft chuckle as Frank yawned.
“You looked so peaceful, we didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”
Richie pointed ahead into the darkness, “The on ramp is up there, good luck to you man.”
Jessica gave his shoulder a little squeeze and Frank tumbled out of the truck. He grabbed his bag out of the bed and the truck rumbled up the road. Frank gazed with longing as the taillights disappeared leaving him with emptiness. The cool night breeze carried the scent of dust and the lonely sound of crickets.
Richie watched Frank in the rear view mirror until he was out of sight. “The guy seems lost, maybe we should have invited him to spend the night at our house.”
Jessica stared out quietly into the darkness for a while and then shook her head. “As much as my heart goes out to the guy, I don’t think we can fix him. He needs to figure that out on his own. I hope he does.”
Frank looked away from the direction of the truck and turned towards the on ramp. He marched purposely up the road until he entered the circle of light provided by a lone streetlight. He dropped his bag into the dust and stared hopefully for oncoming cars. The lone sliver of the moon was the only light shining through the dark sky. He listened to the crickets chirping and the cars rushing to their destinations on the nearby freeway. Frank wondered where he was going and couldn’t come up with an answer. The approaching headlights startled him from his thoughts and he stuck his thumb out. An old four door Dodge sped by without slowing down.
It seemed just short of forever before the next car blew by without hesitation. Frank was hopeful every time another car approached but after several hours surrendered to his familiar state of desperation. His depression turned to frustration, anger and then cynical self pity as the hours crawled by. He felt the agitation ascend up from his ankles and hope slipped from his heart. The pain in his head pounded with the rhythm of his heartbeat and his feet begged for relief from the hours of standing on the hard surface.
The long bleak night seemed to swallow Frank in its’ dark embrace as he drank deeply from the bitter waters of dejection, anger and resentment. He relived every time he was told he was lazy, dumb and worthless. He screamed profanities at his tormenters but they would not be driven away. The nightlong battle left him exhausted and drained of all hope. He sat on his bag and wondered why he even bothered to go on. Maybe he could just sit here until he melted into the hard ground. No one would notice as they raced by and he doubted anyone would realize he was gone. The thought reminded him that he still needed to catch a ride or he would spend the rest of his life on this lonely on ramp. He gazed longingly towards the freeway and noticed the dim outline of a huge tree. He realized the cold pre-dawn light had snuck up on him unnoticed.
Frank shivered and dug his worn canvas jacket out of his bag. The growing light revealed more details of the massive oak tree not far from where he had spent the night. The oak seemed to stretch into the morning light and a few birds cried out from the upper branches. The sun was dimly lighting the tree from behind. As the light increased the cheerful birdsongs grew louder. Suddenly the old oak was illuminated with new energy as the sun exploded into the sky in a burst of brilliance. The blaze of radiant light set off a raucous symphony of song from the happy birds.
Frank was filled with awe at the sounds and sights of the new day. Despite the chilly morning air the brilliant dawn filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. The blissful music of sunrise filled his whole existence until everything else disappeared. Frank surrendered himself to the joy of the moment and hope burst into his heart.
He grinned and laughed as he realized the boisterous birds were celebrating life in a way that defied all circumstance. They were doing what they were created to do and that was all they needed. The sudden revelation filled him with a delight that chased all the dark shadows out of his heart. The spirited songs filled his existence and he surrendered himself to the joy of the moment. He felt his whole body relax and settle in to a state of euphoria.
Frank drew a slow deep breath of the clean morning air, he still wasn’t sure where he was headed but he knew it was going to be all right. He was alive, enjoying the new day and that was enough. He delighted in the warm embrace of the sun on his face as a beige Cadillac cruised to a stop next to him.
