The Beginning of a Goodbye

The first thing today brought us was Fernweh! Thank God - the hospitals hadn't lost him. I jumped from the mattress of Hobo Conglomeration and bounded towards him.

He limped towards me with a mighty grimace gouged into his face, clearly pained by the recent cracking of bones that ought not to have been cracked. I approached cautiously - the hospital stay had surely aggravated him. With a wave and a smile that clearly took more effort than raising a flag (and that spoke just as beautifully) he dispelled my assumptions.

"Do you... want some percocets?"

I grinned. Obviously, I did, but for once, he legitimately needed the opiates for pain. He insisted though, and handed me one; I popped it quickly and the day began to start much more smoothly. Instead of stepping off the acid train into a jagged, rocky and otherwise desolate mindstate, the comedown rolled softly into the station and deposited me in a more functional mindset.

As me and Fern returned to the group, tension snowed down onto us; we were blanketed by the subtle chill of insolence. Scrib and Fern couldn't speak to each other. There were no apologies, there were no accusations, there was just guilt and resentment. It was then that we realized today was to be a pivotal day in our journey.

The group couldn't continue as it was. Scrib and Fern couldn't maintain themselves in this dynamic of bullying. Scrib decided that he and his rat would stay at Snooze's house until his court date , at which point he figured he'd end up in jail and wouldn't make it to Halifax. I sincerely hoped that wasn't true and that he'd make it to the East Coast - prospectively, in a better mood. Fern, me, Squanch and Hades were to hit the road and keep on trucking to the East Coast. We'd spent far too long bathing in the drug bath of Toronto, scrubbing our souls with filthy washcloths.

Fern, having been excited at first with the addition of Squanch and Hades, was beginning to become apprehensive about letting them join our crew. Were they really that cool? Were they really worth our time? I put that up to typical Fernweh cynicism - his prerequisites for travel partners are pretty high - and for a good reason. He'd been stuck on the road with shitty partners too many times to repeat the scenario, and being stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing to look at but passing cars and the irritating face of your hitchhiking partner can grind a person's patience into dust.

I was less picky - for now. Patience proved to be a profitable virtue for a traveler - little did I know, though, Squanch would be the first hobo to break mine. Regardless, our priorities at the moment consisted of assimilating these new cats into our group and parting ways with Scrib. We walked him to the youth drop-in, ate a last (and largely silent) breakfast together, and bid him goodbye. Things became immensely different from then on.