Life and Times at Lake Conroe

Saturday, January 10, 2009, was a long, exhausting day for me. I was up at 8:00 am, sorting things, repacking, and resorting. I took to the storage shed what I would leave. I sorted and packed Sedona's things. I had everything ready, and Sedona and I were playing with her Littlest Pet Shop Edition of Monopoly. Something she'd gotten herself for Christmas with the gift card my dad had given her. She was ahead, and winning, when my aunt called to tell me they were an hour away from Texarkana. I hadn't expected them for another three hours. So we picked up everything and headed on over to the nursing home. Sedona was constantly singing, "I get to stay with Uncle Richard. I get to stay with Uncle Richard." I was glad she was happy.

She adored my mother's baby brother. Sedona had heard, all of her young life, stories that centered on my maternal grandfather. The stories she'd heard about Pappaw Blair seemed akin to the Pau Bunyan stories I'd read, as a kid. After she first met my Uncle Richard, when she was eight, she loved him, immediately.

She asked me, once, "Mommy, what was Pappaw Blair like?"

"Well," I told her, "now that you've met Uncle Richard, you know Pappaw." She looked at me, questioning the logic. I smiled at her. "Uncle Richard looks just like Pappaw. He sounds just like Pappaw. He acts just like Pappaw."

"Really?" Her eyes went wide.

"Yep. You wanna know what Pappaw Blair was really like, just look at Uncle Richard." And my uncle became an instant hero in Sedona's eyes.

Knowing it was Uncle Richard and Aunt Elaine coming to get her made her feel more secure than she had, since she'd learned I would have to leave her behind.

We spent about 45 minutes with Mom, explaining everything that was going on. It depressed her, to know we were leaving. That she wouldn't get to see Sedona, for a long time. But knowing Sedona would be taken care of was enough for her.

My plan had been to spend one last night in Texarkana, and b well rested for the 6-hour trip. I was already tired, when everyone showed up, there at Bailey Creek Rehab Center. Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Teddy got there, first. We visited for a few minutes, before I saw Uncle Richard and Aunt Elaine come through the door. I hurried to them and hugged them both. Clinging to my uncle, all I could do was whisper brokenly, "Thank you, for this."

He looked me in the eye. "We're family, kiddo," came the voice so reminiscent of my childhood hero. "You know Sedona will be well taken care of."

I wiped the tears from my eyes. "I know." I watched my cousin, his wife, and their five-year-old daughter walk in. That was the first time I'd seen Uncle Richard's oldest son (and middle child), in about 15 years. As an adult, he goes by "Russell". But, in all our growing-up years, he was "Rusty". I tell him, even to this day, "You can tell everybody your name is Russell. But you'll always be 'Rusty' to me, boy." And he's grown into quite a man. A good Christian. A responsible family man. Something I never would have expected from the little boy who had to write the Ten Commandments repeatedly, for a lie he'd told.

I met Rusty's wife, Vickie. Very sweet woman. I liked her, immediately. This woman would be Sedona's foster mom, for a while. I was glad she was someone I liked. "Doesn't matter that we just me," I told her, with a smile. "You're family. This family hugs." And I gave her a big hug.

"We also eat!" Rusty laughed, patting the belly he'd added, over the years. This brought laughter from Sedona. Rusty looked at her and grinned, "This family hugs and eats!"

Then I was introduced to Ariel, Rusty and Vickie's little girl. Cute, adorable, and a non-stop talker. Being an only child, as well, Ariel was looking forward to having a big sister, for a while. I laughingly told Sedona, "Well, you've been wanting a little sister, for a long time. Here's your chance to see what it'd be like." She responded with a big grin.

I sat down with Vickie to go over the temporary guardianship papers. I watched Sedona playing well with Ariel, and knew I'd made the right decision. I filled out the form, as fears welled up in my eyes. "I'm not giving her to you," I said firmly.

Vickie sat down beside me, putting her arm around my shoulder. "I know," she said, softly. "This is a temporary arrangement." She pointed to the fine print: This constitutes temporary guardianship of said child, for a period of up to-and not to exceed-one year. This arrangement can be voided at any time, by either party, in writing or verbally.

I signed my name. Vickie signed hers. Uncle Teddy signed, as the witness. I handed over her copy of that paper, Sedona's birth certificate, social security card, and shot records. I held back the tears, taking a deep breath. Uncle Richard helped me transfer Sedona's things from my van to their truck.

He pulled me in for one of his famous bear hugs. "Tell me the truth, kiddo," he said, looking into my eyes. "Is this a money thing?"

Unable to hold back, I nodded, sobbing into his shoulder. "I've just been sinking, and she's going down with me. I can't let that happen."

He held me, as I cried, then looked me in the eye, again. The tenderness on his face touched my heart. So much like Pappaw. "Don't you worry about a thing, Melissa. You know Sedona's gonna be in good hands. Russell and Vickie live right across the state line, in Alabama. About a mile from me and your Aunt Elaine. And Tracey and Steve live in the same town we do."

I smiled at that. His daughter, Tracey, had been one of my closest cousins, when we were kids. "Sedona's gonna be surrounded by cousins," I laughed.

It was time to leave. I asked Aunt Charlotte if we could pray, as a family. She called everyone together, we held hands, and Rusty-as head of the household taking in Sedona-led us all in prayer. Afterwards, I felt much better, and we all began our goodbyes. That's the moment Sedona began to cry. The moment it truly hit her that we were about to be separated, for the first time. She clung to me.

I knelt down in front of her, holding her face in my hands. Staring into her dark green eyes-so like my own-I told her, firmly, emphasizing each word, "I'm NOT giving you away, Baby!" She only nodded, her eyes glistening with tears when tried to blink back. "This is only temporary. I'm NOT giving you away. I would NEVER do that!" I couldn't hold back my own tears. They streamed down my face. "Mommy lover you SO, SO MUCH! As soon as I'm ready for you, I'll send for you."

"When, Mommy?" came the soft, broken voice. Her own tears began to fall. "When can I come live with you, again?"

I pulled her tight against me. I never wanted to let her go. This, I know, would be the last time I'd hold my baby girl, for a long time. "I don't know, yet," I whispered into her hair. "I'll be getting my old job back, but I won't have a place to live, yet. I gotta get everything set up. Get us a place to live. Make sure there's someone to take care of you, while I work. You know I'm picking up Uncle David, on the way. He'll be with me." I smiled, weakly. "With both of us working, I might be able to send for you, by Spring Break." Her face lit up. "But it might take longer. So, don't quote me on that, okay?"

A brief smile. "Okay, Mommy."

They were all piling up in Uncle Richard's truck. "Okay, kiddo," came his deep, authoritative voice. "We gotta get back on the road."

I hugged Sedona, again. "Summer, at the latest. I promise."

"Okay, Mommy," came her soft whisper. She said her goodbyes to Mom, Aunt Charlotte, and Uncle Teddy, then gave me one last hug, before climbing into the pickup.

I sat in my van and cried, as I watched them pull out. Everything in me wanted to follow them. Everything in me screamed to call them back. My heart hurt for my Little Sweet Pea. I couldn't breathe. What have I done?

Then came the Still, Small Voice: The right thing.

I took a deep, steadying breath, then left the nursing home. I loaded down my van. My ex-husband and his wife asked why I was heading on out. "You're so tired, already," Holly said. "You need to get a good rest, before you leave."

I shook my head. "I can't handle it. If I stay, I'll think too much. Best to just push forward."

It was nearly 3:00 pm, when I left Texarkana. My heart was breaking. My soul felt like it had been ripped from my body. The first two hours of my trip, all I could do was cry. But logic pushed me forward. I drove, without stopping even once, till I reached New Caney. I knew if I stopped, I'd turn around. And I couldn't do that.

It was around 10:30 pm, that night, by the time I found the house where my brother had been staying. He was outside, waiting for me, everything packed and ready to go. And, by the time we pulled into Conroe, TX, it was 11:00 pm.

David and I both felt a sense of euphoria. A sense of belonging. We knew we were where we were supposed to be. And we knew we were heading to the Lodge Motel. All my research had told me that was the cheapest place to stay. It was around 11:30 pm, when we were paid up and checked in. The only available rooms were two-bedroom apartments for $311 per week. David had enough to cover the first week. And I knew I had enough in my checking account to cover another couple of weeks. Combined with my regular paychecks, we knew we could make it for about a month. Not a bad weekly rate, for a two-bedroom apartment in a motel. I learned, later, that many people started out at the Lodge Motel, when first moving to this area.

We decided to go and check the place out, before moving anything out of the van. When David opened the door, we received a shock. In the living room, were two drunken men, passed out on each of the tow couches. After they left, we decided to go back to the office, to discuss this with management. The manager transferred us to the apartment in the next building over. After thoroughly searching the place, we unloaded what we needed from the van. We were so tired, at that point, we crashed out.

Upon awakening, the next morning, I realized my purse wasn't with me. I searched everywhere, before I reported to the manager that I must have left it in the previous room. They unlocked it, so I could search there. But it was gone. All that was found was the little portfolio I always carried. In side it, was my manicure set, a pack of smokes, a lighter, and two ink pens. Items that had been in various pockets of the purse. Of course, I reported it stolen, but knew nothing could be done. I was told that this sort of thing happens all the time at the Lodge. Rooms that are vacant are always being broken into.

Everything had been in that purse. My birth certificate, insurance and registration papers on the van, my checkbook and all account information, registration papers on my two dogs, my most recent photos of Sedona, and my journal.

Fortunately, my driver's license and social security card were in the little change-purse I had in my coat pocket.

Our first night in Conroe had been marked by disaster. I felt completely lost. And began to wonder what I had done. All journal record for the past two years of my life was now in the hands of some stranger, somewhere.

It was my brother who said, "Consider this a temporary setback. Everything in that purse can be replaced. We just move forward." And we did.

Karim had told me to come in on Monday, January 12, to talk to him about working there, again. So, I was up, showered, dressed, and out the door by 9:30 am on that day. The drive from the Lodge to Lake Conroe Exxon took about 25 minutes. I studied my surrounding, felling at home and at peace, for the first time in many months. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed this area.

When I walked through the door, I asked the girl at the counter for Karim. She told me the printer had gone down. Karim had to go get a new one. So, I pulled out my cell phone and called him.

"Karim," I said, when he answered. "I'm here at the store, but you're not."

"I'm getting another printer. Do you still want to work?"

"Yes, I do. That's why I'm here."

"You want your old night shift?"

"Works for me."

"Come in tomorrow. Wait. Come in tomorrow morning at eleven. From eleven to five. Then you can start your regular shift on Wednesday."

"Tomorrow at eleven? For an interview?"

"No," he answered, mildly confused. "To start work."

"You need me to fill out an application?"

"No. You don't have to. We still have your old one. And I know you. Just come in to start work, tomorrow at eleven."

"Okay. I'll be here." After hanging up, I looked at my brother. "Well, that was easy."

That first day, working that register, I was surprised how much I remembered. Eight months away, and it felt like I'd never left. Everyone I'd worked with, except for Karim and Raj, were gone. But it still felt like home. Working with Raj and Karim, it felt like old times. I was glad I still had my notes, from when Raj trained me, last year. My first night back on closing, Raj did to me what was done to him, when he came back. He threw me out, to sink or swim. He figured, since I had my notes, and already remembered so much, then I'd do okay. As it happens, I did do okay. The few mistakes I made were minor.

That first week, I saw many who had been my regular customers from last year. All were happy to see me back. And all said, "Now that I know you're back, I'll be back in here more often." I loved my job. I was where I felt I belonged. The Jade Elephant had called me back. Now that I was back, and settled in, I had to find out whom or what was the reason for my return.

The man I called "Buddhist Dave" had been the subject of my dreams and visions, since last summer. My only connection with him was Raj-his uncle. The first few days I worked there, I talked to Raj about Dave and had been told things that worried me.

Raj told me that Dave's life went downhill, after I left. He never told me it was because I left. He would simply say, "It started just before last summer." Well, I left at the end of April of last year. Dave started drinking heavily, got heavy into drugs, and began letting his college work lax. He had begun hanging with a bad crowd and had spent time in jail. All that, before he went back to Nepal, last summer. He'd quit working at Lake Conroe Exxon in May of last year. He simply came in to work one day, in mid-May, handed over his keys and told Karim, "I can't work here, anymore."

Each time I would try to talk to Raj about Dave, he would tell me more about the bad things he's up to now. I had wanted to talk to Buddhist Dave, at least, to get answers to the questions that had haunted me, since July of last year. But it seemed that was not to be. "He is not the same person, Melissa," is all Raj would say about Dave.

I began to wonder if this is the person Buddhist Dave was when I knew him, or is this who he became, after I left? And was my leaving the reason? Questioning Raj got me nowhere. All he would tell me is, "Dave is not the same person."

I began to feel like I was at fault for this change in Dave. I wondered, if I'd managed to stay, last year, would he have become this person? And I wondered if the man I had connected with even exists, anymore? Had he ever existed? Was he the reason the Jade Elephant had called me back? Or was he the tool used to bring me here? And, if his are not the brown eyes I kept seeing in my visions, then who do they belong to?

I'd fought against those visions and dreams, for months, trying to make things work in Texarkana. But everything kept happening to push me out of there. And the only job I could get was the one at Lake Conroe Exxon. I had no choice but to follow the visions and dreams. Yet nothing seemed to be going the way I'd thought they would.

The day President Obama was sworn in, I found out I can't even get a post office box, without my birth certificate. All funds were going toward food, gas, and weekly rent. I had nothing extra left to send off for another copy. So much for that. I needed to replace what was lost in my purse before I could get my Texas driver's license. I was kind of stuck. That was also when my thoughts about Buddhist Dave began to change.

I'd begun to notice the new stock boy, Javier, had been trying to get my attention. Trying to flirt with me, trying to get me to look at him. To notice him. I kept thinking that he's not as cute as Aurillio was, but is more efficient at his job. He left no side work for me to do, when he was gone.

Each night, when he'd come behind the counter to sign out on the timesheet, he'd just stand there, watching me, while I chatted with Raj. Until I'd turn to look at him. Then he'd smile and say, "Hasta manana."

Finally, one night, I noticed him watching me again, and decided to ask his name. "Javier," he said, smiling. He waited for me to say it, then asked, "And you?"

"Melissa," I said, shaking his hand.

When I asked how long he'd been working there, he merely smiled, and said, "I go home now."

I laughed. "You don't speak English, do you?"

He ducked his head and grinned. As he was leaving, he said, "Hasta manana. No. See you tomorrow."

The next night, before he left, Javier asked me, "You speak Spanish?"

I shook my head and smiled, saying, "No." With a sigh, I added, "And you don't speak English."

He shook his head, giving me a very sexy smile, and I noticed how beautiful his eyes are. "You should learn to speak Spanish."

I grinned back at him. "You should learn to speak English!"

I began to realize that, once again, I was distracted by a sexy young Mexican stock boy. Aurillio had been much too young, but at least I'd been able to carry on a conversation with him. I couldn't even do that with Javier. We could only watch each other. And I realized I was forgetting the one my dreams had first led me to. Buddhist Dave. But he'd been with at least three different women in the past few months.

Every time I tried to talk to Raj about Dave, he would clam up and seem angry. But we could talk about anything else, and he'd be happy, joking, and laughing. I couldn't understand why. And the longer I went without hearing from Dave, the more I noticed Javier.

I had learned that, when I was too busy to notice him, he would walk around with his feet dragging, shoulders hunched, and seeming very serious. Almost like he was pouting. Testing a theory, one night, I took some free time and did nothing but watch him, for several minutes. Each time he'd look at me, he'd see me watching him. We'd smile at each other, and his mood became more cheerful. He walked with a bounce in his step, head held high. Theory proven fact. That was the night he tried to talk to me. He kept asking something about closing. I couldn't piece together, with my limited Spanish, what it was he was trying to say. Finally, he just ducked his head, seeming embarrassed, and said, "Nada. Nothing." Then he waved at me, saying, "Hasta manana," and quickly left.

That same night, one of my regular customers came in. Samuel. He'd been a regular from last year. A chef at Walden, he always comes in wearing the chef's jacket, and buying lottery scratch-offs. As long as he was winning, he'd keep getting more. When he hit a losing streak, he'd be done, heading home. On this particular night, I asked him, "Do you do translations?" After all, he's a naturalized citizen from Mexico. Fluently bilingual.

He glanced at me. "Sometimes, I'm asked to do that."

"Can you teach me?"

"I'm not much of a teacher. But if there's something you want to have translated, I can do that."

"I'm having trouble talking to the stock boy that works here. He speaks no English; I speak very limited Spanish. It's a bit of a problem."

He nodded. "I can see where it would be." So I talked to him a little about Javier. Samuel's hand froze from scratching the ticket. "Is this for work?"

I grinned. "No."

He smiled at me. "For you?" I just nodded. "Aren't you married?"

I stared at him, confused. "No. I'm divorced."

He stared at me, totally shocked. Finally, he gave me a couple of phrases to ask.

That Friday and Saturday were too busy for me even to try to talk to Javier. I barely even had the chance to look at him. He seemed so serious, on those days. He'd look at me, and I'd be too busy to really look at him. Then I'd look at him, later, and he'd seem to be pouting. But, when I'd catch his eye and smile at him, he'd perk up and be in a good mood. And Sunday is his day off.

Monday, January 26, my shift started well enough. Raj and I were both in a good mood. Until he received a phone call. I heard him angrily arguing in Hindi. When he got off the phone, his first words were, "My cousin has me PISSED OFF!"

"Dave?" I asked, studying Raj's face.

He nodded. "He call me, yesterday, to pay bill on his car." He pulled out a receipt, showing me. "I pay car payment on Dave's car! Now, hw wants more money!"

"Didn't you say he was working?"

"I don't know where the money goes," he said, in frustration. "He has another girlfriend. Another white girl."

Oddly, the news that Dave had yet another woman in his life didn't bother me, as much as I'd thought it would. I just shook my head, thinking: Obviously, Dave is not my reason for being here! This Dave that Raj talked about is not the man I knew. Again, I found myself wondering if he had ever existed. Another piece of me let go. And, as Raj continued to rant and rave about his nephew, I saw Javier standing by the counter, watching me. I smiled at him. The thought crossed my mind, that maybe those were the brown eyes the Jade One had called me to.

Raj and Karim were both gone by 7:00 pm. Customer flow had slowed to a stop. I sipped my coffee, while I watched Javier vacuum and mop. Then he came around to sign out. I turned and looked at him, and realized he was studying my part of the time sheet. Probably trying to figure out when I leave each night. When he turned and smiled at me, I figured I'd find out if he remembered my name.

"Javier," I asked, "do you remember my name?" His blank stare told me I'd have to fall back on my limited Spanish and poor Spanish grammar. I sighed, "Como me llama?"

He looked confused, then asked, "You?"

"Yes," I replied. "Como me llama?"

He gave me a confused grin, and again asked, "You?"

I laughed and nodded, knowing I'd used bad grammar. Then I pointed to myself, saying, "Me llama."

He gave me the confused grin, which gave way to the sexy grin, and said, "Melissa."

My name, spoken in that heavy accent had an effect on me I hadn't expected. It took my breath away. I wanted to ask him to repeat that. I couldn't remember how to say it. My mind went blank. All I could say was, "Wow. You remember my name." Again, that sexy smile. "How old are you?"

Confusion, again. "How old?"

"How old are you?" I asked again. He shrugged. And I struggled to remember the phrase Samuel had given me. Finally, I said, "Cuantos anos?"

"Ah," he said, nodding and smiling. He thought a moment, then answered, "25."

My response: "Oh, shit." I shook my head. "I'm 39." At his blank stare, I wrote down the number. He said it in Spanish. I nodded.

He repeated it in Spanish. Then looked at me, surprised. "You?" He pointed at the number, then at me. "You?"

I smiled, then laughed, not being able to say there were too many years between us. I shrugged and said, "Muchos anos."

Customers came in, but Javier didn't leave. He knew I was trying to communicate. He even restocked the cooler, when customers bought beer. When we were alone again, I asked him, "Where do you live?" He grinned and shrugged. I struggled to remember the phrase in Spanish, but nothing came to mind. I laughed, shaking my head, and asked, "Donde es su casa?"

He grinned at me. I knew I'd said it wrong, but he caught the gist. "En Conroe," he answered. "Central Conroe."

"I'm staying at the Lodge Motel." The confused look again. I just pulled my keys out of my pocket. I showed him the tag for the room key. It has the motel name and address on it.

He read it, leaning forward. "You?" He pointed at it, then me.

I nodded. "Mi casa."

His face was close to mine, and he gazed into my eyes. For a moment, I thought of the night Dave had shown me The Ring. The moment we had gazed into each other's eyes. The look that had passed between us. This was a moment much like that one. I could see in Javier's eyes and in his actions that he wanted me. I knew, too, that he could see the same desire in my eyes. Yet we both knew the language barrier was tortuously huge.

Again, my mind went blank. I wanted to ask him if he was married or had a girlfriend. "So much I want to say," I told him, knowing he couldn't understand most of what I said. I shrugged, "But I don't know."

"You habla Espanol poquito?" he asked, making the sign for "very little".

"Yes." I made the same sign. "Very little." I sighed, as we just stood there, looking at each other. "I need to learn Spanish," I said, more to myself than to him.

"Si." He looked at me for a long time, then said, "You need libro."

"I need a book?"

He nodded, picking up the phone book. Flipping through the front part, he said, "Espanish." Flipping through the back part, he said, "English."

"Oh, a dictionary."

"Si! Yes! Dictionary!"

We looked at each other for a long time. He looked as frustrated as I felt. He sighed, then turned and left, looking as frustrated as I felt. I had nothing left to say. I found myself wishing I'd spent last summer brushing up on my Spanish, instead of trying to learn Hindi.

Wednesday, January 28, changed everything. David was just starting his job at Wal-Mart, and we knew the only way we could work the schedules out was for him to ride in with me. I had to be at work at 5:00 pm. He didn't have to be in till 10:00 pm. I got off at 10:30 pm, he got off at 7:00 am. That meant he was to sleep in the van till time for him to go in. I would sleep in the van, till he got off. Then we'd both go home.

As I got onto Highway 105, heading out of Conroe, I saw the "check engine" light come on, and saw the meter for my battery slowing moving down. And watched the temperature gauge slowly moving up. "Oh shit, the fan belt's off again." That could only mean one thing. The power steering pump had gone out. And the serpentine belt had come off. One belt that controls everything under that hood.

I had to keep stopping to let the van cool down. And each time I restarted the engine, I had a bit less power. We were just over halfway there, when I had to stop again. There wouldn't be enough power to restart. We were at Walgreen's on Loop 336. There was a woman, just getting off work, who jumpstarted us. And we were running short on time. When I called Karim, to let him know what was going on, and that I'd be late, he said, "Maybe you should just go back home."

"I'm already halfway there, Karim. I'm coming on in."

I managed, little by little, to baby her on in. When I shut her off, she was red-lining on the temperature gauge. I knew I wouldn't be able to get her back to Conroe. I figured it was no big deal. I had several changes of clothes still in the van. I could sleep in the van, take sponge-baths in the bathroom, after work. I could make this work. No problem.

I talked to every customer that walked through the door, that night. I was flat broke and payday was several days away. No one, no one, no one would fix the van without the money up-front.

Samuel came in, that night. He hadn't been in there, in a few days. "Well, hey, there," I said with a grin. "You haven't been in, in a while."

"I've been working late," he said, with a grin. We talked about my situation with the van, and he had no way of helping me out, either. He seemed upset, though. So I changed the subject. "You know, those conversation starters you gave me were just that: Starters."

He laughed at me, as I described that conversation with Javier. "So, how do I ask if he's got a girlfriend or if he's married?" He told me the phrases. I handed him one of the mini paper sacks and a pen. "Here, write that down."

He ended up jotting several phrases for me. As he was teaching me the phrases, I leaned across the counter. Then he leaned across the counter, nervously playing with the ink pen. Intently studying my face, as I studied the paper. He read the phrases, then pointed to one and said, "Say that one."

"Me gusta?" I looked up at him.

He gazed into my eyes. "It means, 'Do you like me?'" After a moment, he pointed at the next one. "Say that one."

"Te gusto." I looked up at him, again.

He was staring deeply into my eyes. "That one means, 'I like you.'" Then he pointed at another one. "That one means, 'Do you have any kids?'" He looked into my eyes again. "Do you have any kids?"

I sighed. "Yes. I have a daughter. She's 9. She's in Alabama, living with my cousin, right now."

He watched me. "Why?" he asked softly.

I looked away. "When I was coming back down here, I knew I'd probably be homeless. I couldn't do that to her." I looked at him. I was playing with the paper, and noticed he was still playing with the pen. I'd learned about body language, a long time ago. And decided to test a theory. I suddenly stood up, to comment on one of the phrases.

He dropped the pen and knocked over the small rack with the energy shots, standing straight up, to mirror my action. After a moment, I leaned back across the counter, putting my chin in my hand. He mirrored my action. I put my hand down, playing with the paper, as we chatted. He put his hand down and started playing with the pen, again. I thought on that. He was purposely mirroring my actions. That told me he was trying to get my attention. But why?

That night, after clocking out, I charged against my check, soap, shampoo, toothpaste and toothbrush, and a brush. And I sponged off in the bathroom. When I curled up in the blankets still in the back of the van, I slept fitfully. It got below freezing, that night. And I kept thinking there was something I had forgotten. Each time I heard any noise in the parking lot, I awoke and looked around, then went back to sleep. When David got off work, he curled up in the other part of the van. Sleep didn't come easy to him, either.

At 7:30 am, Karim came over to the van, and it woke David up. He decided to go inside and see what Karim wanted. When he came back, he told me Karim was angry. I'd left my keys in the door. That was what I'd forgotten. I went in, to try to explain to him, that the reason for that was the fact that I'd slept in the van. The last thing I always did, before leaving the parking lot, each night, was to check everything. I'd never left the keys before. Ever. This time, that was something I didn't even think about. I didn't think to check where my store keys were. And it was so cold I never got back out of the van. But Karim didn't return my keys to me.

When Aftab, the owner, got there, he talked to me. I explained my situation to him, as well. The only thing he would say was, "When you get your van fixed, or have another way in to work, then come back."

"Dude," I said. "I have no way to go ANYWHERE!" I pointed at my van. "That's my only transportation! I'm going to have to live in that thing, in your parking lot, until I can get it fixed! And you're telling me, even though I'm RIGHT HERE, you won't let me work!"

"That's the other thing," Aftab said calmly. "We can't have you living in your vehicle, and trying to work. You have to be able to change clothes and shower."

"I have clothes in the van."

"You can't shower here, though."

So that day was spent trying to get help, making calls, trying to find someone-anyone-to help. The only thing I kept hearing from everyone was, "Well, good luck with that."

David had his laptop picking up a WiFi signal, and happened to catch his ex-girlfriend, GiGi, online. I had a list of questions on me to ask Javier, but my thoughts were elsewhere, at the moment. David decided to play matchmaker, since we'd given up on finding help. I saw Javier going out to clean the parking lot, and pointed him out to David, while I continued chatting with GiGi. Without another word, he grabbed my list of questions and ran out there to catch Javier.

Their conversation went something like this:

"Me llamo David. I'm Melissa's haberno. No, that ain't right. I'm her brother. What the hell was that word? Oh, never mind, here." And he handed the list to Javier. The list went:

Tiene novia? (Do you have a girlfriend?)

Tu casada? (You married?)

Tengo 39 anos. (I'm 39 years old.)

El es mi hermano. (He is my brother.)

Tiene hijos? (Do you have kids?)

Me gusta? (Do you like me?)

Te gusto. (I like you.)

When David came back to the van, he told me about his little conversation with Javier. "You said 'I'm Melissa's hot pepper.'"

"Oh, shit," he laughed. "No wonder he stepped back, when I said that."

A moment later, we saw Javier come running out to the van. He wrote down his cell number, and took down mine. Then he grinned at me, and skipped back inside.

That's when GiGi gave her phone number and said she'd act as translator. So David wrote it down and went inside to catch Javier. He made the motion for using a phone. So Javier let him borrow the cell. When David got GiGi on the line, he talked to her a moment, then handed the phone to Javier, who promptly hung it up.

"No, no, no!" David shouted. "No." He made the motion to use the phone again, and called GiGi back. "Sorry 'bout that. Here he is now." As he handed the phone back to Javier, he motioned for him to talk.

"Espanish?" he asked. David nodded. And all GiGi told him was to come out to the van, on his lunch-break. That would be around 4:00 pm.

While we waited for Javier, we were also discussing what we were going to do. I was worried about the dogs, alone in the motel room. They would be out of food and water, by now. Someone had to take care of them. And that was when a white van pulled up beside us.

"Oh my God!" David jumped up. "That's that guy who was a friend of Karen's. And became a buddy of mine. I just can't remember his name. I wonder if he can at least give us a ride."

That's when he came back out. "Well, catch him, David!"

So, while David was talking to this friend of his, Javier made his appearance. I used his phone to call GiGi. She wanted to know what we needed to tell him. "Well, you can let him know what's going on with us, right now. I know he's confused about why we're sitting here."

So, he talked to her in Spanish, while I got out to talk to David and his friend. He wanted to look under the hood. David kept whispering, "I feel weird, not remembering his name. Find out his name."

I just kept elbowing him, to shut him up. When the guy was looking the engine over, I stepped forward, holding out my hand. "By the way, I'm David's sister. My name's Melissa."

He reached out to shake my hand. "Bobby." I saw David make the 'that's right' face. After looking everything over, Bobby let me know the only thing that had to be changed out was the power steering pump. Everything else was fine. He said he had the tools, if I could get the part. But it would be Monday, before he could do anything with it.

"So what will you charge me?"

He looked at me like I'd just insulted him. "I wouldn't charge you anything. I'm not like most people around here. Y'all need help. Why would I take advantage of that?"

I stared at him, shocked. "You don't want payment?"

He looked from me to David, then started apologizing that it'd take so long. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he wasn't going to charge me anything. While they continued to catch up, I got back in the van. Javier handed the phone to David. GiGi wanted to talk to him.

Javier and I just looked at each other. "You y you brother. You sleep in here, yesterday night?"

"Yes."

He looked at me, like he wanted to say more, but didn't. He pulled out the list David had given him. Looking at me, he went down the list:

Pointing at the first one, asking if he had a girlfriend, his response was "No. Y tu? You? Have novio?"

"No," I said. "No boyfriend."

Next, "You married?". His response: "No. No. Me? No." He looked away a moment, then back at me. "You?"

"No. Divorced."

Next thing, he pointed at me. "You." The next one, he pointed at David. "You brother." Next, "Do you have kids?" His response: "No. You?"

"Si," I replied. After a moment of thought, I added, "Tengo una hija." (I have one daughter.)

"Tiene cuantos anos?"

"Tiene nueve anos." I was really having to think back to what little I could remember from high school.

The question "Do you like me?" brought an embarrassed smile and a blush. He made the "so-so" sign, and looked away.

The next thing said "I like you." He only looked at me, with that incredibly sexy look. After a moment, he said, "I go back work." Pointing at the store, then he jumped out and hurried back inside. I sat there, wondering what was going through his mind.

When David got off the phone with GiGi and Bobby was gone, David told me that Javier would be giving us a ride home, when he got off work. I hadn't intended to ask him that, but okay.

So we waited. When Javier got off work at 7:30 pm, he came to my van. We were trying to make sure he was giving us a ride. He was trying to figure out what the hold up was. Somehow, we managed to figure out what was up. Since he didn't know where we were going, he handed David the keys. David handed the keys to me, telling him "I have no license."

"Me no license," Javier responded, shrugging. I just stared at him, then got into the driver's seat.

On the drive to Conroe, David was trying to talk to him, but he knows even less Spanish than do I. He'd asked, "Where are you from?"

I, of course, thought he knew what he was saying, and answered, "Texarkana." He looked totally confused. "You?"

"Dallas," he said.

And we, of course, thought he meant Dallas, TX. So David started talking football. Forgetting, of course, that, to Javier, football was a completely different sport. I kept telling David, "He has no idea what you're saying to him."

At one point, David tried to piece together how to ask him if he knew any good Mexican restaurants. He said it well enough, with my help, for Javier to figure out what he was saying. I think. Javier's response was, "Fajitas."

"Oh," David said. "Fajita Jack's?"

"Yes," came Javier's response.

When we got to the Lodge, David ran on up to the room, to clean up anything the dogs might have messed up. I got out of the car, leaving it running. I figured Javier would just get in and head out. But he motioned for me to turn it off. He started saying something and waving his hands around. "Oh," I said. "You're lost." I motioned for him to follow me up to the apartment. Inside, I got the map of Conroe that was in the phone book, and tried to get him to show me where he lived.

The poor guy was simply too confused, and apparently had no idea how to read a map. "Okay," I said. I made a motion, encompassing the whole map. "This is Conroe."

"Yes."

"Where is your street?"

"Um-hm."

I looked at him. "No. What street do you live on?"

"Yes."

I glanced at David. Uh-oh. "Call GiGi."

He managed to get her daughter on the line, and she talked to Javier. Then he handed the phone to David. After David talked to her, he told me, "He has no idea how to get back out of here. He needs someone to go with him." And David volunteered me.

When we got back down to his car, Javier handed me the keys. "I no see at night."

"Bad night vision?"

He nodded. "I show."

As we pulled out of the parking lot, he turned in his seat to fully face me. Then he proceeded to start speaking to me in Spanish. I just looked at him, "What?"

He sighed, seeming so frustrated. Finally, he said, "This no working."

I glanced at him. "What's not working?" At this point, I'd figured out we couldn't be more than friends, anyway.

He motioned at me and him. "No bueno. You, no Espanol. Me, no Ingles." He sighed. "This no working. Es no bueno."

"You're right," I told him, looking back at the road. "Either I need to learn Spanish or you need to learn English."

He nodded. He couldn't figure out where we were, so I just took us back to Highway 105. When he realized where he was, he began to give directions. He was saying the words in Spanish, but using hand motions, so I repeated his words in English. After doing that a few times, he finally said, "You learn Spanish." And he kept repeating his words, until I was able to repeat them.

When we got to his place, I realized my error. He wasn't from Dallas, TX. He'd been telling me he lived on Dallas Street! Wow. Big difference. He went in to get his dad, who speaks some English. His dad would ride back with us, then drive Javier back home.

Javier had agreed to come back and get me, on his way to work, the next day. And he would hang around till I got off work, to take me home. Unfortunately, although the route from his house to the Lodge Motel was an easy route, there was a wreck on the intersection. So had to take the long way back to the motel.

The next morning, Karim called to find out if I had found another ride into work. I told him Javier would be bringing me in. "And how will you get back home?"

"Javier said he'd stay till I got off work and bring me home."

"No, no, no," Karim said. "I can't have him waiting around till you get off work. And you don't need to come in that early. He comes in at 11:30 in the morning. You'll be leaving around 10:30 at night. No, that won't work. Why don't you just wait till you get your van fixed?"

So, again, I was pushed aside, though I'd found a way around. Or thought I had.

I managed to get in touch with my dad and explain all that was going on. I needed to get a new power steering pump and have it changed out. Plus, with me not being able to work most of the week, my check wouldn't be big enough to cover the next week's rent. We needed a ride into town, so I could pick up the money dad was going to send me and to pick up my check. David had planned to spend the weekend in the van, so he could be there when Bobby came to fix it on Monday.

So David called GiGi and she called Javier, to explain that we needed a way into town to pick up the money, and that I'd need a ride home, afterwards. Javier agreed.

But when Javier didn't show up by 11:15 the next morning, I knew he wasn't coming. I told David the only chance we had was to start walking. There was no other way. Fourteen miles into town. It was going to take awhile. He said that we should ask the people next door, first.

A lesbian couple had just moved in next-door to us. We'd never even met them. But David knocked on their door, and we explained what was going on. Season told us she had some errands to run, and she'd get back in time to make sure we made it into town. What was confusing me was why was I unable to contact Javier? And why had he not shown up?

It was around 4:00, when Season returned. She just handed me the keys to her car and let us take it. I was so surprised. When we got there, I picked up the money that Dad had sent, and David went on to work. Then I went over to the store, to pick up my check. Javier avoided me. I could hear him filling the ice buckets in the back. But then there was sudden silence. Instead of coming out with the bucket, to fill the mini-coolers, he stayed in the back. I couldn't figure out what was going on. I just assumed he was simply avoiding me.

It was strange. All the people I had thought would show mercy in our time of need, and none came through. It was the ones I never considered that helped. Dad, who had already given me $300 only three weeks before, to fix my van, sent another $200 to help. It was the lesbian couple next-door, who was shunned by others, that let us use their car, to make the trip into town. Perfect strangers. Who was going to be fixing the van? A man I had never met in my life. A man who'd been a friend of my brother's, but who had not been in contact in a year.

That same night, I went down to the office to pay the next week's rent. Because they found out we had the dogs there-which I'd thought they already knew-they upped our rent. From $311 per week, to $451 per week. At that moment, they wanted $591, for pet rent from the previous week. I had until 11:00 am the next morning to figure out what to do. And the van wouldn't be fixed until Monday.

David managed to get a ride in from work, that morning. Oddly, when I explained the situation, he didn't seem at all upset. "It's just a sign it's time to move on. We need to be closer to work, anyway. Income tax will be coming in, soon. We use that, like we talked about, to get a regular place. No problem."

So I paid what I had. It paid us up till Tuesday. I knew the van would be fixed and we'd have the next day to get out. I figured we'd sleep in the van and just go from there. I just didn't know what the next move would be from there. Things seemed to be piling up on us. And we had no other way out.

I managed to get in touch with my ex, and explained the situation to him. Turned out, the power steering pump was still under warranty. It could be replaced for free. Another good break.

Bobby came by on that Monday evening, to pick up David. He removed the old pump, and took it to O'Reilly's, to trade it for the new one. When that was done, David was already there, to go into work on time.

That Tuesday morning, as I was packing everything up to take to the van, I received a phone call from the motel's office. They told me they'd made a mistake on their calculations. We were actually paid up till that Thursday. So we had another couple of days to work with.

I was back at work, that night. And happy to be there. Since Javier had been avoiding me, for whatever reason, I decided I'd give him his space. I didn't look at him, acted like I didn't even notice him, but I did notice he was watching me. With a strange look of fear combined with pain. Confusing. I still laughed and joked with Karim, Raj, and my customers. But when I saw Javier, I'd simply step out of his line of sight. At 6:30 that night, he was coming around the counter to sign out. He stopped, when I turned to look at him. He then asked Karim for permission to go behind the counter. Something he'd never done before. As he passed me, heading for the timesheet, he glanced at me, with that same mixture of fear and pain.

I looked at Karim. He looked at Javier, then grinned at me. That confused me, too. After Javier left, Karim left, and I put it all out of my mind.

A little after 7:00, I received a shock. Javier walked through the door, watching me. "Did you forget your wallet, again?" I asked.

He shook his head, as he continued on around the counter, and right up to me. For a moment, I thought he was going to hug me. I just stared at him in confusion.

He looked into my eyes for a moment, then, nearly crying, he began repeating, "Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento." He sighed. "Saturday and Sunday." He looked like he was about to drop to his knees. He pounded his chest, and, in a pleading voice, he started repeating , again, "Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento."

"It's okay," I said, smiling at him.

He began trying to explain. "Saturday. Me, Dallas." (Indicating he lives on Dallas Street.) I nodded. "You," he went on, "I don't---I can't---" and frantically waved his arms around.

I realized he was trying to tell me he couldn't remember how to get to the Lodge Motel. "Okay," I said.

He looked at me. "Sunday, with mi familia. My family."

"Okay."

Then the pleading voice, the pain on his face, "Lo siento."

"Javier, it's okay. I got another ride." I smiled, giving him the thumbs-up. "It's okay. I'm not mad at you." At his confused look, I added, "I'm not angry."

He stared at me in shock. "You no angry?"

"I shook my head. " No. I'm not angry."

He continued to stare at me. "You van. Fixed?"

"Yes. It's fixed."

He fiddled with the scratch-off tickets, then looked back at me. "Es bueno?" I nodded. He leaned against the counter, looking at the floor, occasionally glancing back at me. Finally, he asked, "You no angry?" I shook my head, no. He stared off another moment, then looked back at me. "You no angry, un poquito?"

I smiled at him. "No. Not even a little bit." I looked into his eyes a moment. "Did you think I was angry?" He nodded. "No. I'm not." I watched him a moment, thinking of our last conversation. "We're still friends, right? Just friends." He stared at me. I indicated me and him, "Amigos?"

He sighed, looking down at the floor, shoulders drooping. "Si," he said heavily. "Si." He looked up at me, just watching me. I sensed he wanted to talk to me. Something he wanted to say.

I shrugged. "What?"

Again, he looked close to tears. "Nada," he said. "Nothing." He held out his hand. "Amigos."

I reached out, shaking his hand. "Friends." But he didn't let go of my hand. He looked down, gazing at my hand in his. Then he looked back into my eyes. Again, I felt there was something he needed to say. "What?" I asked, again.

He sighed heavily, releasing my hand, and shook his head. "Manana. Hasta manana." And he left. I was more confused by those actions, than I had been by his avoiding me.

On Thursday, February 5, we were out of the Lodge on time. We had been getting our mail at "General Delivery" at the Conroe Post Office. And it so happened, that day, David's W-2 was in. We went all the way to Wal-Mart, to pick up his paycheck, and he filed his taxes. We began checking the Conroe Courier, to try to find places to rent. The way we looked at it, we'd only have to sleep in the van a couple of nights.

All that night, till Raj left, all I kept hearing was all the bad things Buddhist Dave's been up to. I had pretty well put him out of my mind, by then. Raj left at 6:30 pm.

I was only barely aware of Javier, that night. The store was way too busy. I did notice he seemed upset, though. So I decided to just watch him, for awhile. As before, he perked up, and started walking taller. With a little more pride. He seemed happy that I wasn't angry with him. I wrote him a note, reminding him that we were "just friends", but that I was attracted to him. And letting him know I thought he had " very sexy eyes, a very sexy smile, and I love the way you say my name." I had no idea where that simple note would lead.

That same night, not long after Javier left, I received a phone call. From Raj's wife. She wanted to know what time he'd left. I told her. It was 8:00, and he still wasn't home. Ten minutes after I got off the phone with her, Raj called the store.

"What did you tell my wife?" he asked. His heavy Nepali accent was slurred. I knew he was drunk.

"She wanted to know what time you left. I told her."

"Now she is angry with me."

"Raj," I asked, as if speaking to a child, "are you doing something you shouldn't be doing?"

"She does not like me to drink and drive. I am at the bar."

"I can't blame her, Raj. You shouldn't drink and drive."

"If she calls again, on another night, tell her I leave at 7:00."

"You want me to lie to her?"

"I just don't want her to worry."

"Raj. You shouldn't be driving, if you're drinking."

"I am sitting in the parking lot in my car. I have no keys. They took my keys."

"So how are you getting home, Raj?"

Silence. Then, "Melissa, I will see you tomorrow." Click.

Friday, February 6, David and I sat in the van in the Wal-Mart parking lot, looking through the classifieds. We'd called everyone. No one would rent to us, until we'd been there at least six months. It was no wonder so many people started out at the Lodge! We had given up. One ad singled itself out to David: "RV lots for rent. $150/month." As a joke, he decided to call that number. "So can we just pitch a tent there?" David jokingly asked the man, Jack Huddleston.

"Well, if that's what you wanna do," came the reply.

David laughed. "Are you serious?" Then he went on to explain our entire situation.

"If you and your sister are looking for a place to live, it just so happens I got a single-wide trailer for sale out there." He explained that it wasn't in the best shape, and the lots are pretty small. But he was asking $1000 down and $200/month. $12,000, altogether.

Before David could respond, I said, "We're taking that. I don't care what shape it's in. That's the best deal we're gonna find."

Karim called me at 1:45 pm, asking if I could come in early. Raj had called in sick. After getting off the phone, I busted out laughing. And told David about the call from Raj at work, the night before. "Oh, my God! Raj called in sick. He's got a hangover!"

"Yeah, he's sick all right," David laughed. "That's called the 'tequila bug'!"

So I was at work at 2:45 pm. Three hours early.

The whole time Javier was there, he watched me, intently. But I was so busy, I barely gave him a passing glance. As always, though, he perked up, when he did see me watching him. At the end of his shift, I didn't see him standing by the cigars. A customer asked for a box of strawberry Phillies. I whirled around to grab one, and found myself face-to-face with Javier. There came that passionate look and that sexy grin. I gave back one of my own. I looked away long enough to grab the box of cigarillos, then glanced back at him with a grin. He left, not long after.

Around 10:40, Samuel walked through the door. "And just where have you been?" I jokingly asked.

He grinned at me. "Where have you been?"

So I filled him in on all that had been going on. That's when I noticed his hair had grown out somewhat. That caught my attention. "Your hair's grown out," I said quietly. He gave me a look indicating he didn't like it. He looked toward the scratch-offs, to start naming off the ones he wanted, but I was still staring at him. He froze, glancing back at me. The he grinned. I shook it off and continued with his tickets.

As he scratched his tickets, we chatted. I reminded him that he'd said before, if I had anything I wanted to say to Javier, I could write a note and he'd translate. So I handed the note to Samuel. "Wow," he said. "It's long." He looked it over. "Can I just bring this home?"

"Yeah."

The next morning, after David got off work, we followed Jack's directions and found the place he was selling in Willis. Oddly, I felt more at home, here, than anywhere else. There was no question. This was home. By 9:30 am, the deal was sealed. David and I are buying a house. It's in both mine and my brother's names. We spent the day checking things out and buying a few minor things for the house. Then we got the van fully unloaded, finally!

That night, at work, when Samuel came in, the first thing he did was hand me the note and his translation. I thanked him, and while he went about his regular thing, I studied the notes. And compared the two.

I had to close that Sunday night, then turn around and open that Monday morning. It wasn't as bad as I'd thought. After struggling through opening procedures, it was pretty much business-as-usual. I began winding down around 10:00 am, when Raj came in. he was surprised to see me. And he was upset that Karim made me come in to open, after closing, the night before. He kept complaining that Karim was just lazy.

At 11:30, I was done and Javier was just coming in. He was emptying water from the mini-coolers, when I came out. I walked towards him, calling out his name. He turned, saw me, and smiled. I handed him the translated note. "I had this translated." I told him. He took it, smiling at me. Then I just headed home.

When I went back to work, that Wednesday, I noticed that Javier was watching me more. But I didn't get the chance to really talk to him. The next night, both Karim and Raj were gone by 7:00 pm. Javier just kept watching me. When he went around the counter to sign out, he sat down on the stool and pulled out the note I'd given him. He kept indicating the "only friends" portions and where I'd signed off "tu amiga", telling me "Es okay. Barrera del lenguaje es problemo mucho." But we kept staring into each other's eyes, and I knew he wanted more. Then he flipped the noted over, indicating where I'd told him I was attracted to him. He grinned at me, with "that" look. "Me gusta?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied. He kept saying I needed to learn Spanish. I told him to write a note and I'd get it translated. So, he ran into the office and wrote one. The store got extremely busy, at that point. When it slacked off, he handed me the note. I told him I couldn't read it. He stepped behind me, putting his arms around me, pulling me back against him. I turned in his arms and returned the hug. And he immediately pulled me into the little store room.

The note he gave me translates as:

"The language barrier is the reason there's no communication between you and me. Concerning the fact that you like me, I like you, too, but I must be sincere that it would be difficult for there to be anything between us. The language is the first thing, and the other is that I have to return to Mexico. I don't know when, but I have to return."

Later, he added quickly: "Or at least the affair that you say."

Over the next couple of weeks, we kept saying we should remain only friends, because we can't talk to each other. There was no point in anything going any further. Yet, each time, I agreed that we should be only friends, he was pulling me into the store room, to let me know he wanted more. I had figured out how to use an online translator. So our method of communication became him writing me a note at work. Then I'd translate it, using the online translator, and translate my response into Spanish. Then I send him text messages.

Little by little, we got closer. And things began to get a bit serious. Until he made a shocking confession. He has a wife in Mexico. Wow. Not what I expected to hear. I was upset. I was angry. And confused. Why had he lied to me, in the beginning? When I broke things off with him, I let him know I didn't appreciate being lied to. Yet, still he asked if we could be friends. "Sure," I said. "Friends." Knowing a friendship was impossible.

Another adventure had ended.