Chapter 7

7

     The junkyard was calm as the night creatures roamed. Bats echoed in the distance, unable to see the shabby campfire where the two discussed life's meaningful minutia. Otto persisted in asking to hear more about Joe's clouded history, and after some talk, the tinker caved. "I was raised on a reservation in the Midwest. Family always moved about, but we stayed within the sovereignty of my people's land. Nothing ever changed, except the name of the political official who'd lie to us, or the sheriff working for the white man who harassed us. I went into the army when I was 16 years old. Guess they couldn't tell a teenager from a tomahawk, or else they were running out of men for their stupid war. I saw a lot of heavy crap over there. Things I'd rather forget."

     Otto couldn't relate in the slightest capacity. His eyebrows resumed their usual elevated position, requesting whatever Homeless Joe would provide. "They kept giving us all these pills, experimenting with our sleeping patterns. Seems like I never ate the same colored capsule twice. I took a bullet in my backside somewhere in the jungle, and got left for dead by the opposition. I lay face up for hours, coming down from the last pill I ever took, watching the sun traipse across the sky."

     "I thought I was sure to die, that I'd go off to be with the Great Grandfather. They found me that night and rushed me back home. But the last thing I remember before I faded was this huge bird circling overhead, humming and glimmering in the sun. Next thing I know I have to spend months in a veteran's hospital. Had a lot of time to sit and think. Nobody came to visit me, as the public sentiment was a tidal wave of animosity and loathing. I saw it on the news every day, while I slowly learned to walk again. That was maybe the hardest deed I've ever done. Especially since I didn't take none of their pain pills. No way. I was done with the military medicine, and one day I just walked right out the door."

     Homeless Joe got restless and went inside the truck canopy. Otto could hear him rummaging around while he spoke. "First thing I did was go to the liquor store and pick up some Indian medicine. Heh, heh, then I discovered a tattoo parlor and had my scar decorated. Check it out." He appeared at the door with his back towards Von Clumpson. As Homeless Joe lifted his Mr. Yuk shirt aside, Otto saw a gnarled war wound, still ruddy and seared, with large multicolored arrows aimed at it. Across his back in distinct black letters were the words, 'I EARNED MY PEACE!' "Wow!" Otto exclaimed, "I've never known anyone trying to draw attention to a scar. What happened next?"

     The shabby tinker continued to look for something in his den, "I was pretty juiced during the tattoo, and as I staggered away from the parlor people kept glaring at me like I was some freak. It got really bad. I walked to the edge of town, intending never to go back to the hospital or even talk to them. This is the strange part. All of a sudden, I heard that same hum that I heard out in the jungle, the most comforting tone in the world. I looked around for the huge shiny bird, but there was nothing. Then I saw a pigeon circling above me, and it came and landed right in front of me. Its gray feathers answered precisely how I was feeling. It simply stared at me, and I didn't really enjoy it. So I walked the other way. That silly bird hopped after me like I was its mother. Every time I looked back, it'd be there. I decided to keep on walking. Walking until something stops me from walking, but I still see that jovialoof pigeon once in awhile. I have been all over this land, back and forth, and I haven't seen anything new for a long time."

     Otto stoked the fire, loading more trash upon it. When staring at a flame, he always grew meditative, almost hypnotized. He now saw in the shabby man he'd followed a noble soul, full of worth and mirth. 'A pity,' he thought, 'that it took so long to uncover the merit.' Homeless Joe's adam's apple gyrated with anticipated utterance. "I've been looking for this old relic I found last week. Beautiful piece. Its funny how I got it. I was, ahem, appraising this dumpster behind this craggy estate, when a housemaid comes out and says I'm sleeping in there, and that I had better split. At that moment I saw it, shuffled it under my coat, and told her, 'Just the artifacts, ma'am'. I left her with a quizzical countenance, and I quickly returned here to stash it away. Rich people are really possessive about their garbage, you see. They don't want it, but they don't want anyone else to have it either." Joe beckoned Otto inside the canopy with his arm, "Come on inside, there's room. You really have to look at this. I believe you'll find it very interesting."