I met Josh, a meth abuser, while walking Walt and Beth, my
two adorable black and white dogs yesterday.
I act like this is an everyday thing. I suppose it could be, but I was drawn to this “underbelly place” because there is one aspect of it I especially love: the River that I have watched meander, race, stagnate through it. The path was lined with more trash than normal and it had a weirder than usual vibe, though it is always slightly strange there.
I had seen another odd sight lately, too, when driving in this favorite odd visiting place of mine: the water of the river was gone. Dried up. Absent.
I am familiar with dry river beds, but not here. This was my go-to place for river water here within Bakersfield.
We were walking on the path back to our car when I saw a bicycle rider.
He was twitchy, nervous and called out to us while we were still far enough away that I couldn’t see him very well.
“It’s ok, it’s safe, I know what goes on here and I’m not doing any of it look, see, here’s my stuff…” and he pulled out his as of then not used drug paraphernalia.
“You’re fine,” I responded. “We’re just out walking.”
When we got closer he started talking about who knows what but all I wanted to know if he knew how long the water had been gone from this stretch of river.
He told me about the dam in Isabella and I know all of that.
I also know for the past few years, the dam did not impact
this particular flow. Last
year, for example, was the most full I had ever seen
this stretch of the river.
I nodded respectfully, even knowing his assertion was not wholly accurate and moved along. I said something innocuous as I left, like “Well, have a good day.”
I was a few steps past him and through his pressured speech he told me, “Oh, I am Josh,” by the way.
I turned over my shoulder. “Hi, Josh. I’m Julie. This is Walt” I shook Walt’s leash, “ and this is Beth.”
He gave that nervous on-edge smile I recognized from meth addicted forebears I have seen.
Walt, Beth and I walked back to the car skirting around a big, frightening looking pitbull and his owner and returned home which felt untouched by the empty river and the sullen trash laced paths leading nowhere.
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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott
This is my eighth post (of 31!) for the October Ultimate Blog Challenge.
Watch here for challenge posts which will include Writing Prompts, Writing
Tips and General Life Tips and Essays.
Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She leads Writing Camp with JJS & this Summer will be traveling throughout the US to bring this unique, fun filled creative experience to the people wherever she finds the passion & the interest.
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