We sat in front of Bailey’s, a pizza place across the street from the double decker bus that got turned into a cafe. We sat there to escape the rain; a hurricane, or something had rolled in. It was getting late, and all the leftover pizza that Bailey’s had given us was gone. Nowhere to go, we just sat there. I strummed every now and then on my guitar.

There was no one else in the streets that night. I guess they were a little smarter than us. The rain was coming down hard and Dan got up, legs burnt to shit, and hobbled into the middle of the street and whipped his dick out and pissed. He came back, bandages on his legs soaked through. We all had a good laugh. “I always wanted to take a piss in the middle of this fucking road,” he said.

Luis asked me if he could roll a cigarette, I dug the pouch outta my guitar bag, and took out a paper and some tobacco for myself, before tossing it to him. Mary made a hand gesture, like she wanted one, and I signaled Luis to pass it along when he was done. The cheap papers stuck to my dry lips and ripped them. I strummed a tune on my guitar and Luis hummed along.
We walked down a few doors, rain still coming down in torrents, to an art gallery which had, at the moment, a collection of famous people's portraits done with bottle caps.

Eventually the rain died down, and the morning was on its way quick. Most of the tobacco was gone. Luis, Mary and I parted ways with Dan and Mitch at first light - I had a bus to catch back home, and it was a little bit of a walk to the station. One of my brothers had had a baby and I’d decided it would be a good thing for me to be around. Plus, it kinda felt right to get outta town for a little while after getting arrested for squatting.

We stopped at a Waffle House to eat breakfast with the last bit of our money. You could smoke inside, so we took advantage of it.

The bus station was rather small. My father had paid for the ticket, so all I had to do was show my ID and pick it up. We went outside for a smoke after the man behind the desk handed me my ticket. The bus was there, and scheduled to leave in ten minutes. When we finished our cigarettes there was just enough for maybe two more and only one paper. I split the tobacco with them, but I kept the paper - they could try their luck to find one. We said farewell and they headed back to the mountain.

I found a seat about halfway down the bus, on the right side. In front of me sat a man whom I had seen many times around town. His name was Tate, I think. He used to hang around sometimes with myself and others while we were busking. Kind of an annoying dude.
“Yo, what’s going on?” he asked.
“Hey man, how are you?” I said.
“I’m good. Where you headin’?”
“Back home. Jacksonville.”
“Oh, yeah?” he looked around before going on, “I know a porn star…”
“Yeah, yeah,” I cut him off, “Stairway told me all about her. I clean her pool or wash the dishes, and I can live in her mansion, right?”
“Yeah dude. Hot girls, free food and room.”
“That where you’re heading?” I asked.
“Nah. Heading to Valdosta to see my mom,” he looked down, glumly, for a moment, before the bus driver's voice came over the speakers, distracting us both.

We rode in silence for the rest of the trip.

I had been at the bus station for about four and half hours when they finally announced that my bus was in town and nearly to the station. I had no pillow, and sleeping on the bus was a nightmare, especially with the jets of freezing cold air billowing out from the bottom of the windows.

When we arrived in Savannah, where I was to transfer to another bus, Tate offered me a cigarette and I accepted. “Hey man,” he said “you hungry? I gotta extra fruit cocktail if you want it.”
“Oh, damn, thanks man. I really appreciate it.” I said, eyeing the fruit cup ravenously. He was a nice guy.
My bus, apparently, was delayed. They said it would be another two to three hours. I only had one rolling paper. This was a major problem. I decided that I would hold off smoking the last of my tobacco as long as I could, and just scavenge butts from the ashtrays for a while. What I really wanted was some herb, but that wasn’t gonna happen.

It was fine for a little while, but time went by and I finished all the cigarette butts. I sat and read a book. There was some sort of political fiasco being reported on the televisions. I couldn’t take it any longer, so I rolled up the rest of the tobacco, making sure to get all of it.

I sat out front of the station, leaning against a pillar. The sun was going down, and it was finally beginning to feel like fall.

After a minute Tate came outside. “Hey Charlie, you got another paper? I got some bud.”
“Fuck, man. That was my last one!” I cursed myself for smoking that stupid cigarette.
“Aww, damn. Alright man.” He scuffed his foot on the ground, and went back inside.
I finished the cigarette in a huff.

The sun disappeared over the horizon. It would have been more beautiful under other circumstances, but right now I was just tired and wanted to be home. Wanted to sleep in a bed instead of on the ground or on the floor of a squat.

But eventually the bus pulled into the greyhound station in Jacksonville. I was back. It sucked me back in like it does to everyone else.

My brother and father picked me up and we got some beer and went home and talked of this and that.
I slept on the floor again that night - my brother had moved into my old room.