An hour
and a half later I’m back at the Indian Creek front gate. The security droid in
the tinted shuttle command station smiles in recognition.
“I’m
supposed to meet this morning with Joe from the maintenance department.” I
shout into the intercom. He looks at something on the desk in front of him and
his forehead wrinkles.
“Are
you sure he’s expecting you?”
“Well,
he left me a message indicating that he could meet with me this morning, but we
hadn’t set up anything official or agreed on a time. We’ve been leaving messages,
but haven’t been able to speak directly yet.”
“Please
hold on. I’ll try to get ahold of him.” I stand there shifting the weight of my
pack from foot to foot watching old men arriving in BMWs. The security droid
makes several calls before his garbled, electronic voice comes back over the
intercom.
“I’m
sorry. He’s out working on the course and can’t be reached right now. You’re
going to have to call the office and set up an appointment for Monday.” I can
feel my entire soul slump with disappointment. I’m making progress, but I
walking out here for no reason is wearing on my morale. As I head back toward
Haulover I call the grounds office and front desk every few minutes, but no one
is answering. Finally I leave a message apologizing for missing his earlier
call and asking him to call me again so that we can arrange an official
appointment. That’s all I can do for now, but I’ve got the whole day ahead of
me. The weather is the nicest it’s been since I arrived on Wednesday, so I head
for the water.
The
Saturday afternoon crowd is scattered on the white beach sand like sprinkles on
frosting. There’s an aroma of sunblock and cigar smoke. I alternate back and
forth from the salty waves to laying on the sand soaking up sun. I should get a
beach towel and a pair of sandals if I’m going to become a regular beach bum.
It’s
almost noon when I head out. I wish there was a closer place to plug in and
charge batteries, but outlets are hard to find around here. It’s going to be an
hour walk, but I head back toward Dunkin Donuts.
Nichole
and the grandmother are behind the counter when I walk in. I go through several
coffees through the afternoon and into the evening. Every half hour or so I try
again to call Indian Creek to set up an appointment for Monday, but no one ever
answers. The grandmother is closing the store tonight. I need to learn her
name. I feel a little awkward spending so much time there, but she treats me so
kindly and seems to like me as much as I like her. I love watching how she
interacts with the people that come in.
As the
8:00 closing time draws near I run a search on Google maps for “Church.” Wow,
there are literally no churches anywhere close to Haulover Park! I guess it’s
too overbuilt and expensive for a church. A little further out there is a
Catholic church, a Mormon Church, and a few religious organizations. Half way
back to downtown North Miami there’s the “First Baptist Church” I saw on my
walk out here. That's got to be the most cliché name for a church, and the website definitely doesn't give off a progressive vibe, but I guess that’s worth a try so I save it to my map for tomorrow
morning. I’ll have to give myself almost two hours to get to their Sunday School
at 9:30.
I guess
that’s a wrap for today. Sunday will be a nice break from the job-hunt routine.
Back at Haulover I roll my cart out onto the beach and sit in the sand looking
up at the stars with the warm breeze wrapping around me. I’ve got the entire
place to myself tonight.
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