This is a continuation of my previous post.
Before I recount my Big Adventure in Arkansas, I've decided to tell about my final night in Texas.
I embarked on my journey at 3:00 in the afternoon - - the 100 mile trek north to Amarillo. It was already late in the day. I was so exhausted from lack of sleep and an abundance of stress that I knew I wouldn't drive any farther than Amarillo. I'd stay there for the night.
The process of moving is extremely traumatic, but once you're free - on the road - there's an immense feeling of contentment. Absolutely no ties, no worries. The past is fading with every mile. The future is non-existent. Despite all I'd been through I was feeling strangely wonderful.
The Texas scenery changes as you approach Amarillo. It's more interesting, more diverse than those hellish flatlands from whence I came. As I passed the tiny town of Happy, I thought of my mother. She always liked the name of that obscure Texas town and said she wouldn't mind living there.
Today, Happy evoked a sudden twinge of sadness....
Old, familiar Amarillo was busy and bustling as usual. After passing a few motels that had "No Pets Allowed" signs, I finally found one that welcomed pets. Or at least tolerated them. I and my three caged cats checked in.
I was far more dehydrated than hungry. I bought drinks and some snacks from a nearby convenience store. My plan was to get lots of sleep and get up very early.
I had just about dozed off, when my sleep is interrupted by thuds, thumps, loud curses, and finally screams. I thought I was dreaming. In a groggy moment I realize it is alarmingly real.
The commotion is coming from the room directly next to mine. Banging! Thumps on the wall! Muffled cries. Agonizing screams.
As I sit frozen, absorbing the chaos, I can tell that two men are fighting - - in the throes of an enormous struggle. One man sounds more rational. The other is either drunk, drugged, or completely crazy. Both have Mexican accents.
The crazy guy is getting increasingly violent and irrational. He eventually manages to get outside and is standing right by my door. In a loud psychotic voice he babbles on about birdies and rainbows. And pain.
"The birdies are around me! The birdies are here! Look at the rainbows! Oh, Jesus, my f---king legs hurt! They're burning! Help me! Help me!"
Holy shit! The guy is completely bonkers and he's right at my door!
I'm afraid to look out the window for fear that he'll see me. I don't know whether to call the front desk. Or the police.
I decide to bravely wait it out.
Soon both men are struggling near my door, and the crazy one is shouting "I'll kill you! I got a fu--king knife! I'll slice you up!"
I'm scared as hell - - but despite my genuine fear, I can actually see a smidgen of wry humor in the ordeal. This could only happen to me. Throughout my entire life I've been a magnet for bizarre situations.
And all I wanted is a good nights sleep.....
The crazy guy suddenly starts whimpering and saying "I can't walk! I can't walk! I'm a fu-king cripple! My legs are burning!"
I breathe a big sigh of relief.
Thank God! If the dude can't walk, I'll have a better chance of escaping when he breaks into my room.
After the agonizing span of an hour (at least) the two guys go back inside their room. The ruckus continues but eventually lessens. The crazy guy becomes more subdued, then his antics stop completely.
My imagination is rampant. Did the other guy finally manage to sedate him? Or kill him??
I finally look out the window. The motel parking lot is nearly empty. Very few people were around to witness the bizarre event.
The rest of the night is peaceful but I take no chances. I prop a large armchair up against my double-locked door. I sleep fully dressed.
And I keep telling myself that some day I'll look back at this with humor.
You can't make these things up, folks. Truth is always stranger than fiction.
On to Arkansas.....and more bizarre adventures.....