Way away on hwy one, north of San Francisco, the two lane road zigged and zagged back and forth, as we sped toward the tiny town, in the dark with the rain pouring down. The wind howled and it was hard to see the road, and it was getting late. A dangerous combination on the coast I have seen way to many accidents that had happened in just those circumstances.
We pulled into a tiny one hotel town, with t in the word hotel was burned out, so it looked like hole well in my mind. We got the last room, after banging on the door of the manager. Sleepy and grumpy he led us to our room. I grabbed Fred’s arm as the man handed him the key once the door was open, my eyes were wide, and he knew that look, he knew very well, as I looked him in the face. He put his hand on mine on his arm and patted my cold wet hands.
We walked in and soon ready for bed, in the dark dingy room. I started to pace back and forth, as I was nervous, and jumpy. The room was cold, and no matter how high I turned the heat on, it was still cold. Fred soon was snoring off into complete deep sleep, and I felt the room get smaller, and all the sounds got louder all the little sounds.
I went to bed, and finally fell asleep. About 1:00 A.M in the, the covers were being pulled off the bed, they were being tugged as I tried to stop the movement, they pulled harder. I ignored it or at least tried.
Then again, slower this time so I wasn’t as aware, slowly and then I woke up and grabbed them, and yelled stop it.
Then at 3:00 it started again, I asked for it to stop, now, and it did, and that’s when I saw him in the corner of the room, sick, and sad moaning in the corner, I could hear him and see him. He began to shake, and he looked at me, and I asked him “do you want to go home” I am home I heard. I sat on the floor, and asked him his name and said “Mickey” and then he was gone. I thought what is up? with this, come back here Mickey, all I could hear was Fred’s snoring.
When morning arrived the storm had left, and I could see outside, they were renovating some of the rooms. I went to the office to get coffee and the manager, was a smiling gentleman and I began a conversation, “oh doing renovations I see?” ‘Yes” he said,” this was a crack house, they would rent rooms and do drugs, we just bought it and we are cleaning it up”. I thought oh my god that is mickey, I asked” did they ever have someone pass here?” “oh yes there was a young man, he passed here”. Oh gawd thats Mickey. The manager talked about the drugs, and the flop house, each room, they would break in and do drugs. One of them o.d. and that was that, they sold the place for cheap.
I brought the coffee back, and Fred was awake, and I told him the story. We got packed up, and Fred went to start the car, and wait for me because he knew what I had to do. Mickey needed to go home. He thought he was home. I began the process, he was such a handsome young man, blonde hair and brown gold eyes that glowed. He showed himself as I did the work, and he was the drugged Mickey, and then he changed to the beautiful Mickey, just as if layer after layer of darkness had lifted.
He was gone, went to let go. I hope. But he wasn’t there anymore. When he left he had so much light around him, and was vibrating and pulsing I like to see that, then I know. He is safe and sound at home.
Interesting stop on HWY 1 Northbound.
thank you for reading
with love Renee