The Drifter Ch. 09

Carla looked up when she heard me mention her grandfather.

"He wanted to hire Josh but can't afford it and he's getting old. I know he and my grandmother are worried. They all wanted me to be an account and have security. Fuck that!"

Steve and Catherine listened and then looked at me.

"So what are your plans, Josh?" Steve asked.

"Don't know for sure. I'm looking for a place to settle that's far away from where I've been. I've been drifting my way across the country, working here and there and was cutting hay and met Carla and he were are and I don't know what's next."

"Stay here. You can stay in your trailer and use the house if you need to and help me make this homestead keep us alive."

"Really, are you serious?"

"Yes, you're a good carpenter and I'm not. Catherine's a great gardener and sounds like Carla has been around livestock and farms. I'm tinkerer and computer geek...web design and repairs. I barter my services for different things. I also harvest a good crop of sensemilla and do pretty good with that."

"What's that?" Carla asked.

"It's what your smoking. It's the flower buds of marijuana. I just started harvesting."

"Is that legal?" Carla's eyes widened.

"What if I told you that Al, the chief of police has a crop on his property?"

"The chief of police...are you serious?" I couldn't believe what I heard.

"I am. Also, harvest time can be pretty dangerous around here with guys from other towns trying to rip us off. Most growers keep dogs in their gardens and some sleep out there with shotguns."

"Do you do that?" I asked.

"No, but I have a set up with one of those motion detectors. If someone goes out there in the middle of the night, a recording of barking dogs scares them off and a spotlight comes on."

"Wow, that's cool...you always were a peacekeeper."

Steve chuckled. "It's actually pretty peaceful here. People share stuff and we have an underground economy. We barter, we sell weed...that's our cash crop, but mostly we barter with each other and try to live alongside the other economy...which, as you may know, is bullshit."

Later that night in the trailer, we stayed up late and talked. We were both still high and stood outside and looked up at the stars. It was a clear night and a three quarter moon was over the Pacific. I looked at the dome-house glowing in the moonlight and on the gardens surrounding it. Nearby was a fenced in chicken house.

We made passionate love and I know the trailer must have rock and rolled from our wildness. I think the relief of being there, plus the wine and pot brought our lovemaking and fucking to a place where the there was no barrier. We felt free.

Later I asked, "Do you want to stay here and see what happens?"

"Yes, I love it here," Carla answered. "This feels like home."

And that's what happened. We've been here going on two years. I work with Steve and built a shop for his computer repair business. Carla works with Catherine in the garden, but she also started painting. She's really good and I remembered Betty telling me about her drawing with the kids when she babysat and telling her she was an artist.

We live in the trailer...mostly for sleeping and share meals with Steve and Catherine. I started writing stories and just had one published in a small literary journal. Her mom and stepfather came to visit last year and though they were shocked, they accepted how she was living and I think they accepted me...who knows?

If this book I'm writing sells and I do well, I might build a small house on Steve's land and use the trailer as a studio for Carla. Now, she barters for a studio in back of this rich woman's house by cleaning it once a week. She's starting to sell her paintings.

I'm on the second draft of this book. It's called "The Drifter" and I'm using my initials and my last name. Who knows? Maybe one day, the name J.E. Wiseman will be well known.