Dec. 10-13 Angela

                I woke up in the hammock on Monday morning a little wet. It had rained during the night. The hammock will wrap all the way over me and close me in like a cocoon, but the nylon isn’t water proof. I’ll have to put a tarp up next time if I’m going to spend any more nights in this spot. Maybe I can explore around the area and find another covered pavilion like the one up in Haulover. The library doesn’t open until 10, so I take my time getting up and fixing breakfast. I can see people walking by on the trail that follows the shoreline down from Open Space park.

                When the library opens I lock my cart and pack to a pole outside and head in. It still isn’t very big, but it’s not as noisy as the other one I visited. I find a spot for my laptop at a table and settle in. After catching up on Facebook and email I watch a TV show to help me build up motivation for some studying. Before long it’s 6. The library is closing and that breakfast wore off a long time ago. It’s just barely getting dark when I step from the air-conditioned library into the muggy evening heat. The night it still young and I’d like to explore this new area a little. I strap on my pack and start pushing my cart, but immediately feel very awkward and out of place. This is a bustling shopping area and I feel self-conscious like this with everyone staring at me. I’m nervous about leaving my things unguarded, but I’d also like to go into these shops and look for a few supplies. I finally lock my cart to a tree and just pray no one disturbs it.

                It does feel great to walk around freely and blend into the crowd of people. This entire street is like a cross between an American mall and an open air market in South America. I step into a grocery store but if feels like I’m in Mexico. The isles are narrow and crowded, the cashiers are singing along to Latino hits on the intercom and half the products are labeled in Spanish. Cool!!! I get myself a pint of chocolate ice cream and head back out onto the street. I eat the ice cream with a plastic spoon and continue down the strip of shops. A few miles south the shops thin out to residences. From Google maps, I recognize the southern end of the trail that runs past my camping spot, so I get on it and walk back up along the beach. When I get back up to the library I find my things as I left them and wheel it over to my little seaside patch of trees. It’s breezy and warm, and feels like it could rain again tonight. Honestly, it randomly showers anytime without warning, so I really ought to be prepared regardless of what the sky looks like. I’m tempted to just sleep uncovered in the hammock like before, but even if it doesn’t rain tonight, I don’t want to wait and try to figure out a rain-shelter solution some night in the middle of a downpour. I really should try to figure this out now and be prepared. Once the hammock is set up I pull out my small tarp and fold it over the top and hook weights into the grommets to hold the bottom down. It looks like a blue sheet folded in half over a clothesline. It definitely isn’t an elegant solution; I’m not sure it’s even a solution. The wind is blowing in sporadic gusts and the whole thing flaps loudly and wildly in the wind. I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to sleep inside that or even if it would keep the rain out if it did rain. I climb in and try to sleep but the contraption I’ve rigged up flaps around violently in the wind and makes a lot of noise. The weights holding down the bottom corners occasionally swing around in the wind and hit me in the face. I pull out my phone and read an e-book for a few hours hoping to get tired. When I go back to trying to sleep it still isn’t working. It’s 3am when I finally decided to try something different. When I turn the tarp to an angle, the corners reach further so that I get better coverage in case of rain and then I tie down the other two corners with ropes so that they don’t make so much noise and whip against the hammock. This makes a sort of diamond-shaped tent over the hammock. It still makes a lot of noise in the wind, but not nearly as much as before and it’s a lot more stable. Before long I’m fast asleep and when I wake up again a few hours later I’m in the middle of a sudden torrential downpour. I lay there with a large grin staring up through the blue tarp at the heavy drops of rain beating down at me and streaming harmlessly in serpentine rivulets. The heavy shower only lasts a few minutes, but it’s enough that it would have soaked me through if I hadn’t gone to the trouble of setting up the tarp. Thank you Lord! I curl back up in the hammock and sleep like a rock well into Tuesday’s daylight.

                Tuesday is spent mostly in the library again, but I make an effort to study more and waste less time. When the library closes at 6, I head across the street to the market where I bought the ice-cream yesterday. I haven’t eaten since breakfast again, so I try out the rice bar and get a large serving of Spanish rice, with chicken, and mashed potatoes. It comes in a foam tray and even as hungry as I am it’s more than I can finish at once. Besides, the men’s Bible study is starting at 7:00 over at the church and I’ve been looking forward to that, so I better get walking. I stash the remaining rice in my pack and make the short trip across the island to the Calvary Chapel.

                I find several men standing around and talking inside the church. I recognize one guy who I saw on Sunday and he tells me his name is Renzo. The men’s class is going through a video series on financial management. Considering I live mostly hand-to-mouth the investment and budgeting advice is mostly lost on me but several principles still apply. After the video we get into an engaging discussion about tithing in the New Testament age. As people say good-night and disperse for the night I meet the group leader, Herb, and talk with him for a few minutes. He's not actually the usual leader, but Carl is away tonight and asked Herb to fill in. He's a bubbly personality with beaming joy. He listens with amazement as I tell about my journey and the places I’ve been. He’s shocked when he learns I’m sleeping outdoors.

“Stay here a second!” He says and disappears into the next room. When he comes back he’s got Renzo in tow. “Renzo, has some extra space and can put you up for the night.”

“Thanks, that’d be great! I appreciate it.”

“It won’t be very comfortable,” Renzo tells me, “but you’ll be inside.” Renzo doesn’t have a car so Herb offers to give us a ride over to Renzo’s apartment. There isn’t room for my cart and pack. I’m worried about leaving it here outside the church all night, but that’s the only option. I pull out my computer bag to take with me and stuff a night-bag inside. At least if my stuff gets stolen, I’ll still have a computer and a toothbrush.

The leader drops us off at the base of one of the high-rise apartment towers. We’re probably 20 floors up when we get off and walk down the hall to Renzo’s door. His apartment is a tight bedroom with a bathroom and a closet. It’s already past his bed time and he has to be up by 5 to allow time for him to get to his job in the morning, so we waste little time getting to sleep. He offers me a sleeping bag to roll out on the floor.

The alarm goes off at 5 and I roll up the sleeping bag. Renzo escorts me down to the lobby and gives me directions back to the church. It’s still night and the city isn’t awake yet as I make the trip back praying my things are still where I left them. Within a half hour I see the church and find my things undisturbed. Well, at least undisturbed by people. A family of little ants has found my leftover rice and my cart is filled with millions of them. I was really looking forward to finishing that Spanish rice! It’s not like the ants have actually damaged anything, and I’m sure I wouldn’t notice the difference if I could get past them mentally… I scoop most of them out and dig in. I was right, there’s no noticeable difference and it really doesn’t bother me to think that there might be a tiny ant or two mixed in there. Lots of people enjoy ants on purpose, why should I let a few little ones keep me from that delicious Spanish rice that I paid $4 for? No good reason. All my other food is packaged or Zip-locked, so nothing else is disturbed even though the cart is swarming with ants.

I stand there in the early-morning darkness for several minutes trying to decide what to do. It’s not even 6am yet. I’m still pretty tired; that was a short night, but I don’t really feel like it’s worth going back and setting up my hammock. The library doesn’t open until noon today. I’m thinking I’d really like to look up some new Greek study material online, but I’m not sure if it’s worth waiting around till noon. Most of all right now I'm just tired, so I walk over to North Shore Open Space Park and find a secluded picnic table and lay down on the bench. It’s not exactly comfy but I still snooze for several hours. I wake to someone thumping my boot. It’s a cop. He’s pulled his cruiser up beside the picnic table and he’s staring down at me. I snap awake and sit up quickly trying not to sound hung-over.

“Good morning sir!”

“Good morning there. Everything alright here?”

“Yes sir, I was just kickin’ back for a break.”

“Sure, sure, I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. When we see people laying down we just like to make sure everything is cool and that they’re alive. Sometimes we find people out here dead of a heart attack or something like that. You have an ID on you?”

“Yes sir, right here.” I fish around for my wallet and hand him my license.

“This is my zone, so I just like to get to know people.”

“Absolutely, I appreciate you guys looking out for us.” He eyes the trim and tidy photo on my license and looks back at the disheveled hobo before him.

“When were you born?”

“September 20th, eighty-three” I answer without hesitation. I know he’s was watching to see if I had to think about it. Just making sure I’m the same guy in the picture. He writes down the info on his notepad and walks back to his cruiser to look up my rap-sheet. When he’s satisfied, he says goodbye with a wave and drives off. If you’re running from the law, I don’t recommend going homeless. I think I’ve been questioned at least six times now.

I get a little more to eat out of my cart and head back to the library where I split the day studying and entertaining myself. It’s dark again when they close at 8:00. I eat some more as I decide what to do. I’ll want to be back down here in Miami Beach next Sunday for church again, but I don’t really have any other reason to stay here until then. I’d kind-of rather not bother with setting up the tarp again tonight, and I’m missing Haulover and my friends at Dunkin’ Donuts, so I decided to head back up that way tonight. There are fewer people at this late hour and the cooler night air makes it easier to cover the long walk without needing to stop for breaks. It’s hardly been more than an hour when I roll up to my familiar pavilion again. I eat again and roll out my pad on the bench. There’s no wind at all tonight and there’s some kind of insect taking advantage of it. It’s the kind of bug we would call “mingies” up in Maine; those tiny little things you can barely see without a microscope but with a bite like fire. My ankles and wrists seem to be their favorite. I sleep in short naps between bites till morning.

It doesn’t feel like Thursday when I wake up, but it is. I eat again. That seems to be turning into a regular habit. I’ve got a full battery on the laptop, so I pull it out and work on a little more study. I’ve been listing and comparing proof texts side-by-side for Calvinism and Armenianism. Give me a day or two, and I’m sure I’ll have this centuries-old debate completely put to rest. It’s nearing noon when my batteries are getting low and I’d like to get out on the beach again. I pack everything up and roll it all over to the beach access path. My crumpled old printout of the first few paragraphs from Romans keeps me entertained for the first several hours as I walk up and down the beach. After a while I can say quite a few verses without looking and I’m ready for something else, so I pull out a fresh pack of Greek verbs and spend several more hours strolling the beach with them. There’s plenty of cloud-cover today, so hopefully I don’t burn this time. When there’s only a few hours of daylight left I decided to head over to Dunkin’s.

I find Nichole smiling behind the counter. I had thought Theresita was going to be working today, but I find out she has transferred to another store and doesn’t work here anymore. )-: I’ll miss her. My spot on the comfy chair is taken so I settle down at a table and order a medium coffee. I notice an elderly lady is turning sideways in her chair and is staring intently at me… strange. I get up to use the restroom and when I walk back I notice she’s staring intently at me again. As I walk by she raises her hand timidly and stops me. Her voice is trembling and she speaks with a heavy Italian accent.

“You look exactly like my son.” She’s speaking in a barely audible tone and struggling with her words. “Your hair, and face and colors…” she touches her face as she speaks. “He would have been 47 this year, but he died many years ago…” Her voice cracks and there are tears in her eyes.  “What’s your name?”

“I’m Aaron, what’s yours?” I slide into the chair opposite from her.

“My name is Angela.”

“I’m very sorry about your loss.” I’m not sure what else to say to comfort this bereaved mother, but all she needs me to do is sit there as she looks into my face trembling and seeing the son she has lived without for all these years. She struggles to tell me about him, but finds it hard to speak and hold back tears at the same time. A man steps up and puts two coffees on the table, so I get up to give him his seat back. I give the mother the most comforting smile I know how to give and go back to my computer. I’ll have that image stuck in my mind for a long time of the trembling old mother struggling to hold back tears and looking deep into my face but seeing someone else she had not seen in many years.

I start writing this until closing time. I’ll head over to Win-Dixie from here. Maybe I can find a can of bug-spray to keep those mingies off me tonight. Hopefully there’s a breeze. I might grab a few groceries too, and then it’s back to the pavilion for the night.