"What An Adventure" part 1 Just now updated...#THRILLER

Well, after working in Ludington on a pot farm, and performing a list of impossibilities (as documented in previous twitter posts)- I pulled free from the clutches of a man mad with his own disorders. Being that he is HIV positive, and recovering from morphine use, he is mad at the world. He has a habit of "cock-blocking" anyone over the least of their wants. Let's rewind a bit...

After becoming established with the local communtiy mental health agency, in Ludington, Michigan, the Psychiatrist ordered a blood draw. When I returned to the next appointment she questioned me, as to why there were amphetamines in my bloodstream. Come to find out, Dave was drugging me to get more work out of me. Out of the blue, he began to offer me food for lunch- putting cocaine in my food. She placed me on devalproex or something like that, saying that I am bipolar- whatever. 

Anyway,
I am a pretty good detective, having taken inventory of his home, searching for clues as to his habits and associations- finding tooter straws in various places, for instance. He was also connected to the KKK. AND, he held a Political seat, (City Council), running every election in order to be re-elected. He never cleaned his house- ever, ad was online searching for women with HIV, to entrap in his existence but could not find one since he had no money that he was willing to part with. And he never paid me a dime for over $30,000 dollars in labors. Five pounds of weed would have been nice since he had garbage bags full of it that was going bad due to the fact that he couldn't sell it. Lonnie was one of his local distributors- later getting busted for selling coke to the cops multiple times. Dave quickly severed communications with him. Lonnie went on to roll over on everyone he could to get out of it. Even Harley Davidson stepped in and took his bike back0 it';s in the contract.

Having me on the farm was a convenience to him- keeping the pot safe since "everyone" stole from him. Truth was that he stole all that he could from everyone else, especially me. When Dave was going to "put me up" I was under the impression that I would be staying in his pig stye- ending up cleaning his house for him. Whatever.

When I arrived there, the first task was to replace the oil pan gasket on a Chevy 2500 HD- a 93% (I did it without a manual) failure rate. After documenting the repair on Twitter, he decided to re-roof his dilapidated, much neglected house in town- just a block away from his mother and father (whom happened to be a preacher for 50 years), where he religiously ate meals. Luckily for me, I was invited to dinner too, sometimes. Dave bled his parents for money every chance he got, preying on their love for him and his HIV case. Yeah, there's supposed to be another paragraph for that change but I don't care right now. These are more like notes for the real story. 

When Dave offered me food, it was rotted chicken from his fridge that his mommy bought him- on sale. He didn't cook a thing. He is so cheap that he goes to Home Depot for free coffee- rather than making it at home. Anyone who knows Home Depot knows that their coffee is terrible. Besides that, the gas it takes to run around, he could have \had better coffee, as well as saved money, by getting it at the store. There was a package of rotting chicken in the back of the Chevy that I repaired when I got there. Just for fun, I left it there to see how long it would remain. I ended up getting rids of it due to the fact that I couldn't stand it any longer.

There was a house next door to the farm that Dave wanted to buy. It was up for auction. He was so greedy, he wanted everything for himself in life, to store up and let rot- keeping it from anyone else who might have interest in it.

There was a few acoustic guitars that he took in trade for weed from desperate people. He knew I was interested in them- one of them but he refused me to have iot even though it was barely worth the fifty dollars he traded for it. There's much more.

To keep it short, I pulled out and went to Beaverton, Michigan, with the intentions of seeking refuge at a friend's house in order to help him through the winter. Jeff has had numerous stints, as well as open heart surgery. 
After moving all of my belongings from a storage facility to his home, I find out that he has dementia. He became violent, threatening to hit me one night while discussing my medical needs. I became to live in great fear. He had already explained that he was going to kill his exgirlfriend's man- had the bead on him and was about to pull the trigger. I was afraid to do anything at all. 
I became to be so fear filled that I could not prepare food, do laundry, or go out to the wood stove if he was asleep ( afraid the dogs would bark and disturb him). 
My probation requirements were to report for drug testing twice a month- which I had to have him drive me. I was afraid to ask him to take me. My medical needs were not met because I was afraid to ask him to take me to where I needed to be. Everything I needed put him out, even though he knew I had needs that needed to be met. 
My mental health care lapsed and meds ran out. The stress went through the roof. 

He was asked if he would be interested in skinning and quartering deer for deer season, which he initially stated to the head of the butcher shop that he was interested. When I learned that he had the deer job I sensed that there was another position for me, processing deer at the butcher shop. I had Jeff take me there to secure the position. Jeff claimed credit for "getting me the job". Okay, fine. Whatever. Immediately, I began working as the deer poured in. Instantly I went to the top of the cutters, having been processing wild game all of my life.
 The job only paid me 9 bucks ( haha) an hour but I was thankful and worked as long as I could each day- sometimes working until the store closed at 8 p.m.

The heads of my department quickly became close to me- providing me with transportation to and from work each day. I really had no idea how good I was doing. What alarmed me was going home and having visions of carving the flesh from the faces of those I associated with, while relaxing and talking to them.
 Six weeks or so later I had earned 1500 dollars. As the job slowed down to less than 6 deer a day I saw my end and prepared to do something about moving out so, I called a girlfriend of mine to drive me to a new opportunity. What amazes me is that I didn't think to call Dennis sooner- like way before the many nightmares that I found myself subjected to. One of those was a near murder of myself! 
My, so-called close friend, Larry, tried to kill me with a beer can full of battery acid over the four thousand dollars I had in my pocket! He handed me the can, saying, "This must be your beer". I took the can. It felt very warm. I put it to my lips and let a small amount splash into my mouth. As the substance surfaced my tongue I knew it was acid but that was just before it splashed my throat.

Anyway, my friend, "Tresha" drives a Ford Explorer that her family gave her after her father passed away. It was the least they could do for her. She jumped in it and came to me within an instant. Once we got on the road I noticed a rumble in the front end that told me a wheel bearing was gone. We got as far a St. John's when it blew apart. We barely got it off the highway. I got out and looked, and sure enough, the tire was sideways. We climbed into the vehicle to escape the cold. A few minutes later a truck pulled up next to us. The driver came running over saying that the truck was on fire. I jumped out and looked and sure enough, the brake caliper was burning where it was able. The truck driver handed me a bottle of diet coke, and I dowsed out the flames.

Tresha got on the phone and called State Farm. They dispatched a tow truck that cost me $295. It flat-bedded the truck 92 miles to where I was going. Luckily we rented a hotel room for the night before, so we wouldn't have to drive in the dark, which was good considering the wheel bearing and cv axle! The parts tallied- one cv axle 70 bucks. One brake caliper and a set of pads, 100 bucks. One 32 millimeter socket and a 3/8 to half inch adapter- 20 bucks. One quart of brake fluid, 7 bucks. And, last but not least, a wheel bearing 109 bucks. Thanks O'Rielly's Auto Parts.
 
Luckily, for me, Dennis has a big barn and a bunch of tools. Coincidentally, Tresha's dad also had a tool box in the truck that nearly had what we needed- aside from a breaker bar. I improvised with a bottle jack to crack some hard to break bolts. Five hours later, and two trips to the parts store, I had her fixed and back on the road. But, that's not to overlook starting off at Dennis's house with a problem. I have no idea how he really felt about it, and little did I know at the time, he was just setting me up. We will get into that. 

We got up the next day, (Sunday), and sent Tresha on her way home. After that we went back into the barn and built a cement form for a fire-pit made out of air-crete- a total failure to which he never revisited to try again- expecting me to sort out the details for him!

So, I have a new place to live, and a job. The only problem I now have is smoothing over my probation officer so she does not violate me. I was on probation until June- remember the probation for growing pot when my Jenny protested my own protest of grounding her daughter for one day from the internet over pulling a knife on her mom regarding cleaning her bedroom? Yeah. I can't make this stuff up. There's more but that's enough drama for now- almost. This is the best part of it so far...
Dennis, at one point, tried to convince me into going to stay with a friend of his in Mexico thayt he was sending money too- a grand a t a time. I never took the bait. He also convinced me into putting my money in one of his safes full of weapons- giving me the combo, and trying to feign off knowing the combo in order to build up my security.  This was after his teenage son stole some weed from my room. My feeling is, he was hopping for me to get wrapped up with the police again, where he could claim the money for himself. 
After he repeatedly destroyed my trust in him, I removed my money (10,000) from the safe and hid it in my room again. Later on I decided to start cleaning my room out in anticipation of moving out (not wanting his wife to deal with anything but an immaculate room). What I found under the mattress... Well. I had looked under the mattress when I had took occupancy of this upstairs bedroom, overlooking the deck and river channel. There was no porn, drugs, or weapons. NOW, there was a Tuarus, laser sighted, compact revolver- fully loaded with very destructive bullets. These were the ones known as, "Cop Killers". There were five. The evidence is on my phone since I had researched the entire thing when I found it. I immediately put it right back until I could understand what was going on here.
That's enough drama for now. I don't want to ruin it. It will all be in my book, "Escaping The Despondent Sea"- that is, if I don't die of a stress related heart attack or kill myself, which I think about a lot.

  Watch out for people who prey on your love and emotions that only want to use you up for everything they can take. "I Love You" is often a tool.There have been several attempts on my Life, from people who have stated this. Its all going to be in this book.

The first of the police reports have been filed, and NAMI has been alerted. Now, with the help of the media from these cases- the advertisements have already been paid for. How's that for promotion- turning bad situations into Gold.

You [sons a bitches], who did these atrocities to me, are going to regret it for the rest of your miserable lives. People who meet me never forget me. I will be the first thing you think about when you wake. And I will be the last thing you think about when you go to sleep. You robbed me of my children, my business, my family- and everything I have ever tried to do. Now it's my game. Sue me. You cannot take money from someone you already gleaned.
And this is only Part 1- there are three parts, and a fourth to come.

God grant me the serenity to survive this stuff.

pumpkin wine

Well, Here we are In The Brand New Year!!!
I must say I am surprised my heart's still beating!


Having been brought up in the grayer end of life, I have learned ...to appreciate that which is given to me. Being Thankful, truly Thankful, is pure humility and gratitude.


It's a sour note when people complain but sometimes it is necessary for the greater good, provided rational people are observing it. 

 
My chief complaint about the holidays is the senseless waste- pure gluttony when you get down to it. I mean, the trees at x-mas, the pumpkins at Halloween, the turkey nobody eats for leftovers at Thanksgiving, The saltpeter and sulphur in July, the poppies at veterans day, and all the Easter Grass!! And last but not least, the people who drive their cars into deer and leave the carcass to rot. Yeah, that really pisses me off. BUT- what I have to share is worth gold- even is the color gold. That is, if you see it correctly. 

WHAT is he talking about?? Well, I am talking about PUMPKINS! That's right, PUMPKINS. When I was a kid, and still to this day, I ALWAYS HATED PUMPKIN PIE! One year my father picked that very thing to force down my throat. Usually it was milk so I was thankful for the change. It was harder to pour and caused less of a mess to myself. 

What I have discovered is Pumpkin makes an excellent VINO!! And that's renewed my senses. (Thank God I didn't kill him).

Here's what you do- If you let the pumpkin age a bit the flesh will fall apart like spaghetti going round and round the inside. You can just rake it free with your finger tips.> grate the pumpkin flesh and put it into a five gallon pail. Five pounds of flesh. 3 and a half pounds of sugar. One and three quarters gallon water. And a teaspoon of yeast. I use regular yeast and it works good enough for the girls I go with. 

Boil water and pour it onto the flesh in the bucket- wash it before hand... let it set in the bucket with a rag/towel/something to cover it but let it breath... let it set five days while stirring constantly throughout the days. You can add raisins and cinnamon and whatever you like but I like it the way it is. 

Place it in jugs with lids that you drilled holes in and inserted plastic/rubber tubing into and seal with a hot melt glue gun. Put the loose end of the hose into a milk jug full of water- this provides your oxygen lock so the fermentation process can take place properly. After three weeks or a little more, siphon it off and let it set. If you want it pretty keep it a year before drinking. I could care less and enjoy it when I feel like after three weeks.

 Do it the Cowboy way and see for yourself. Be sure to let me know how you ended up! I hope you enjoyed this bit of info! ZSP

Addendum? part of 41 ludington

The drywall dust hangs pretty thick in the air. Even though you can't see it, you can taste it on your tongue when you walk into a room. The particles are so fine they're like smoke particles. It collects in your lungs very thick. It forms a paste, and can't be broken  down, and makes my heart flutter in a way that frightens me every time it happens.

There are two rooms in the front of the farm house that are coming along nicely. I'm working on the third coat of drywall compound ,trying to get some details finished even though Dave wants to hurry up and paint. I want to hurry up and paint too because the sooner I can finish off two rooms, the sooner I can do the floors and the woodwork. Once that is done, I can seal the rooms off and have a living quarters that isn't contaminated with biohazard air particles like silica dust from the mud and drywall, fiberglass, and, most likely, asbestos. There's so much dirt in here I can't even smoke, which isn't entirely bad. I have resorting to eating marijuana to get the relief that normally is obtained from my routine medicines- having been separated from all of my care for far too long. 

Finally, I got down to Grand Rapids get some of my stuff that belongs to me. My friend Jimmy secured my belongings from a man who tried robbing me of what little I own. I'm happy to have my little ct90 back that I built. I could use it here on the farm. It's a pretty big piece of property that always needs to be run around to maintain.

I made some chicken the other night. Well, last night I had a bunch of chores to do, and I was going to do them, while I was cooking chicken- sitting around the fire cooking the chicken, playing my guitar ...and doing a little journaling. Well, my chores ended up being fairly more demanding than I wished him to be so, I ended up having to utilize the Crock-Pot.

 thank God I had one so I threw for chicken thigh and leg quarters in the crock pot along with some carrots and celery and onion bunch of smashed garlic and about a half pound of marijuana leaves heedless to say when I did eat dinner I got pretty lit I think I'll have leftovers tonight. Next paragraph space well space don't work either what a shity phone next paragraph anyway bike ran great didn't get back home without a flat tire and rear tire went flat I knew it needed rubber it's the original tires on the bike them thanks 50 years old for god sakes still got me to school and back anyway yeah I'm trying to get these two rooms finish so I can get my office put back together so I can get back to work so I can get back to writing my stories I'm worried that I'm not going to get too much farther into it before I drop dad which is going to suck because nobody's going to be able to finish my story and it has to have a happy ending or it's not going to be of any value to anybody just my luck. Third paragraph 7 stand here at the farm for little over a month things are good here very fast pace was a lot going on a lot going on fixing trucks and fixing cars and cleaning the garage out and Extreme Makeover show with like hoarding going on and then there's the farm and then there's the bug pestilence and then there's the the air conditioner issue and leaking water through the ceiling and damage and drywall work that's already been done and the tools are scattered around everywhere in the fasters are scattered around everywhere and people are stealing things and people are leaving bullets laying around implying a threat and it's just one thing after another it's unbelievable

A Raw Video promo of a country-blues song never before attempted

THIS IS A ROUGH DRAFT VIDEO PRESENTATION

This is a song called, 

"The Worst I Done"

It's a new break up song.

Hope You Like It.

 

From, Zachery S. Polk

and Prospect Studio-

The Bluesilingus People.

"Cherokee- A Rescue" Part 41 relative to "Porcupine Pricks, Relative or No"

During the time I spent in prison, one year, my "wife" failed to recognize that the water line burst under our home that we rented in Mesick. Over an uncertain period of time the floor began to become warped out of control, becoming extremely weakened from the moisture, to which she stood on the buckles and put her foot through while playing with the damages like a child.  The landlord hired a contractor to repair the home, filing an insurance claim to have the repairs made. A contractor was hired from Cadillac. The crew he put on the job became acquainted with my "faithful" girl.

During the same period her father became to be killed by a woman named, Mary Jo Paquette- a lead representative for a very large drug manufacturer. She ran over him while he was riding his over-sized scooter- a "motorcycle" in the city of Lansing, Michigan.

In the police report Ms Paquette, claimed to be in Lansing on business but she was accompanied by a doctor... whom was married. In her statement she claimed that she was under the impression that she blew a tire. How she confused a 260 pound 6o some year old man on a motorcycle for a blown tire is a mystery. Added to the mystery is the detail that the "doctor" did not get out of the car to aid the severely injured man in the least. Jim lay there with his abdomen ripped apart, taking fifteen minutes or more to finally expire on the scene- dying in the filthy street of downtown lansing, not far from Lansing Community College, like an animal.

Ms Paquette was insured by her company for twenty million dollars. She received little more than a slap on the wrist, and was never charged with much more than careless driving. The insured amount of the deceased was whittled away to a little less than a million dollars, of which my girl was awarded a mere 90,000 dollars. Sad as it is to say, she blew the money on nothing but entertainment. 30 grand went to her son. 30 grand went to her daughter. 15 grand went to the man's only sister, which was forwarded to my girl, adding to the 15 grand that she was awarded. And further more, she entertained her daughter with a trip to Denmark in the pursuit of a sex change. The girl was 13 and never received any support as to how to care for her body, sickened with the "burden" of tending to the routine issues of being a female.

 My girl became severely depressed and nearly hung herself in the barn. The construction workers apparently kept her good company. They failed to finish the job (plumbing under the house pertaining to hooking the shower drain up). Come to find out the crew was "distracted". The extent of the distraction is uncertain but my girl exhibited a new habit of hiking her pants down to bear her ass on the way to the bathroom when I came home from prison. She never did this before, and I did't think anything of it.. denying that she would ever violate my love.

During this time I was away, she also went to the animal shelter and acquired a rescue dog, an Akita/Chow with a beautiful caramel coat with chocolate streaks- a brindle. The dog's name was Cherokee.

The evening before I was released she gave Cherokee a bath, and then let her run off out into the night, around 11:00 p.m. Cherokee got ahold of a porcupine. And being the killer that she was, she got a very good hold of it, which I was to finally discover sometime around noon the DAY I ARRIVED HOME- A FULL TWELVE HOURS OR SO LATER.

Jen took her time getting me to the house, stopping off at the Manistee river along the way, where she broke it to me that I was coming home to a disaster. I ordered her to get me to the house immediately.

Cherokee came straight to me when I walked in the door. And, having been abused by men, somehow, she set her differences aside, recognizing that I was the one that needed to help since her mother let her suffer with a very many quills in her face and mouth. (I am going to cry).

Cherokee's face was extremely swollen and her mouth was drooling and bleeding. I bit my tongue regarding my feelings over the whole ordeal but went straight to work pulling as many quills as I possibly could. The quills were sticking out of her mouth. As I pulled her face towards me gently to look closer, I could easily see that the quills were through her gums and tongue. It was obvious that I was in over my head but I kept my calm and ordered my girl to look up the closest Veterinarian- even though I had absolutely no money. I could not continue pulling quills because it was only delaying the fact that this was an absolute emergency. Had I a shotgun, I would have had to put her down... if only I would have looked closer. I was sickened, especially since we already had a dog that was a horrible thing, extremely useless and defiant- also a rescue that I had to fight for in order to get for her spoiled and pampered son, who just had to have it since it looked just like Pudge, a dog that was ran over and later died at MSU's Veterinarian Hospital (earlier mentioned in this story).

We set off to Cadillac to a Vet. When we arrived the four of us went in to the waiting room where we sat and waited for others who were there before us. Patients waiting to have nails trimmed, and receive various routine shots. The receptionist did not make mention of the emergency and we were treated like vermin, especially later, after I removed myself once I realized I was becoming agitated over the treatment and waiting, while the dog lay there patiently suffering on the floor, bleeding and drooling.

My fear was that I would be sent back to prison for seeming intimidating or threatening behavior so, I went to the car to wait- nearly biting my tongue clean off. Her daughter came and waited with me. I kept silent about my sentiments.

A very many minutes later, my girl came out to the car carrying Cherokee, and crying after being treated badly by a very hostile Vet who was not Professional, abusing the dog as he berated my girl over not having any money to pay immediately. She made mention of how he threw the dog around on the table and violently jabbed her with the hypodermic needle with the anesthetic, putting the dog to sleep.

While the dog was under anesthesia, we rushed to a local hardware store, where my gal went in to buy a pair of needle nose pliers for me to go back to work pulling quills. Once I got back to pulling the quills, I realized that there were far too many, and they were also through the roof of her mouth!

We then drove to an animal rescue sanctuary that we happened to stumble upon nearby. They said that they were not able to help. They then directed us too an animal hospital a very many miles away near Honor ( the name will be added later as I am frantic to tell the story as fast as I can).

Once we finally arrived at the hospital, the Lady at the counter immediately recognized that it was an emergency, stating that they needed to do surgery and that Cherokee would be staying over night. Not once did they make reference to money in the least. The time was now around four p.m.

They sent us home stating that they would call as soon as they were done. Several hours later we received a call from the Vet, stating that they removed around 140 quills and that Cherokee was doing fine. The bill was around $650.00. Welcome home, Zachery.

I immediately called my mother and asked for her to pay the bill until I could repay her. My mother was the last person on Earth that I wanted to ask for help but I set my pride aside, and she agreed to help.

It was not but a week or so later that my faithful gal complained of feeling sick, stating that it felt much like morning sickness. And me, I am so trusting, I was quick to state that sometimes vasectomies grow back together, and we went and got a pregnancy test- it was negative. That was another 30 bucks.

Cherokee would end up being shot and killed by a neighbor due to the fact that no one listened when I insisted that she be put on a line when let outside. The cops had visited our home frequently after complaints were made. Apparently she decided that the chickens on a nearby farm were interesting since we kept them also. Incidentally my flock would also be killed by a neighbors dogs. the gate was left open after they had been tended before our daughter went to school. I awoke to the chaos, finding one young chicken that I called a moon chicken. It died hours later. And my fantasy of having turkeys in my yard.. it was just a dream. My two turkeys were also killed and eaten. They had just attained their brassy features. It still makes me sad to think of it.

Welcome To BLUESILINGUS.COM

   It's Great To Be Back In Action With My Domain,

     www.bluesilingus.com

 Very Soon, I Will Have The Page Loaded With 

Links To Lots Of Things!

                                                 For now, this is what I have- unimpressive,
                                                     yes but too much too soon is wasted.

Be Sure to find "Prospect Studios Ambient Blues"
on your favorite internet radio. 

https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/ambient-blues/id346418028

And There are a slew of videos on my
youtube channel/MrBluesilingus

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7BKod0EmZ0sVDItRLkZ7ig

I am very busy fighting the good fight. 

https://youtu.be/yOjEvqA5d4Y

Stay Tuned To See Whether or Not
I Can Conquer My Challenges Doing It.

This Is Prospect Studio, We Are The Bluesilingus People!

https://youtu.be/kVI4UsKHoPc

"Don't You Know How Much I Love You?"

https://youtu.be/3so46rnOQu4

"Bobby Bunny Bigfoot" video recitation 7-10-2017

This is a very special presentation of an important children's story that was gifted to me by a very very dear friend before he passed away. Dan DeRuiter was my best friend and bandmate, my "Brother of another Mother"
He wrote this after I had written, "A Spider Gets Around" which can be found on youtube.
Thank You Very Much for Watching and reading my Stories.

Peace, Love, Care-
Zachery Scott Polk

 https://youtu.be/MrKcf9ezkT0

"Part 40- Escaping To Prison, the beginning of chapter 2, for now" #eharmony

Chapter; Going Home

It might have been a Friday when I boarded the bus. So many emotions were running through me; happiness, relief and nervousness, especially since it was March, cold up in the states. All I had to wear was a pair of sweat pants and some other scraps of northern clothing that I managed to find at the thrift store.

Settling into my seat, I wondered if the drama was over. It made sense to start seeking out, through the people around me, for a traveling partner- someone to bond with on some level. Feeling that I needed someone to be a second pair of eyes to sense danger before it happens, I did a quick profile of the people around me, examining the clothing that they were wearing, their shoes- anything that would tell me something about them.

Picking out a person, I introduced myself. We exchanged short versions of what we had been doing in Florida and where we were off to now. This person was going to Indiana. Perfect, I thought. Since I am going to Michigan, we will be traveling the distance together or at least as far as Indiana. He and I had much in common, making me feel at ease about the trip, for the most part.

It was pretty wild seeing the sights along the way. There were things like wild hogs along the highway, and various stretches of some of the most beautiful mountains I had seen.

Georgia was pretty scary when I got off to transfer. There were cops, DEA agents, and what seemed to be drug pushers. It seemed likely to think they were Narcotics agents who were posing as pushers.

Kentucky was pretty cool also, with the famous Kentucky Derby Horserace Track.

When my traveling partner got off in Indianapolis, there was some downtime before the next departure. He invited me to a sports bar for a drink. It was easy, at this point in my big adventure, to decide that it wasn’t a good idea. All I wanted to do was to get home. Enough had happened to me already, and I was so close that it didn’t make sense to chance another mishap. Amid the baggage and chaotic clusters of citizens, I stayed at the station, waiting patiently.

Chicago… when I got off at the Chicago stop, I wanted a drink. Of all the places to be alone, this was not the one to go exploring in but I decided to anyway. There wasn’t a place in sight that looked like a store or a bar, so I began walking to find one. It was a bad time to explore to, since I was under a time constraint. Feeling like I could manage, I set out to find a place to buy a drink.

After asking around, I found a place, buying myself a twenty-two-ounce bottle of beer. Walking back, I was asked for a cigarette. This person also asked me for a sip off of my drink. Handing him the bottle, while thinking that I couldn’t drink the whole thing without being busted anyway, he slammed down over half of it, asking me if I was from the country or something. It must be that only a fool would give out any handouts in Chicago. It’s a good thing I was there.

Boarding the bus bound for Grand Rapids, I felt a sense of closure on the detachment with my home. By the time I finally got off of the bus in Grand Rapids, it had been almost a full twenty-four hours and I hadn’t had much more than four hours of sleep. Bob picked me up at the station and drove us back to the house he had most recently built, anxious to hear the whole story and to put me to work completing the odds and ends that needed to be done before he and his family could legally take occupancy. I would be staying there for a period of time unknown.

Within the next four days, I had done many of the major tasks that only I could have done with an acceptable level of quality. I was thankful to be back performing my trade, and it showed. He took me to the shop that he had been spending much of his time at, to give me a shot at working there. It was more like dragging in fresh meat to abuse.

The company manufactured, and sold, high-end cabinetry. By the end of the day I had proven myself and was offered a job for very little pay for my skills but I was very pleased to have something to build on, and accepted. When I attempted to ask for a better wage, I was told that I would have a very hard time finding anything better. There was little I could do to argue since I felt an indebtedness to Bob for assisting me with my flee from Key West, and out of my gratitude for that help, I stayed. It didn’t make sense to complain any further. It didn’t matter much either way but I couldn’t just accept the pay without trying to get a better deal negotiated.

Everything was great at the job, especially since it was right on a stream that the salmon ran up to spawn. About a week into it, we were on our way to the “rat-factory”, as Bob called it, when we noticed a brand new Dodge Charger that the Michigan state police were driving on the expressway. It had passed us. My surprise at seeing the State Police using these Dodge Chargers caused me to make a comment to Bob about it, so he sped up a bit to get a better look at it.

The car was sweet. And then this sweet looking Michigan State Police cruiser slowed down and got behind us. His bubbles went up a minute later, while Bob was asking me if I had anything on me. The cop came to the window and told Bob that he was in violation with his window tinting, and that he had a tail light out. That’s when the officer asked me for my I.D. The officer went back to his car and ran our information, came back and handed Bob his license, telling us that he had to take me in on a child support warrant. Great. Here I was again- lucky enough to get back home in time to get a job somewhere. Now, I was probably going to lose it because I was going to jail for Child Support, AGAIN.

My court day rolled around the next day or so, where I told them that I had gone to Florida to work but failed, explaining how I was waiting for my disability insurance to go through. The judge said that when I got it, I should bring it in to them framed, as the prize that it would be. After proclaiming to them that I would, she handed down a sentence of ninety days. Bob had been in contact with the court to verify that I did, in fact, have a job, earning me the work release program. They moved me into the old Animal Control complex, once a residential mental hospital. How fitting. Within a day or so, I resumed working and saving my money up.

On the weekdays I worked at the rat-factory, and on the weekends, Bob sprang me out to work on his house in the cornfield. It worked out very well for me because all I had to do was sleep in the work-release program and bring them my rent, saving the rest of my money for something useful. That something ended up being a brand new laptop computer that I intended to use in order to fulfill my promise to publish the music that Danny and I had created.

Now, the problem I had was in the factory setting. Adam and Bob taunted each other with their seemingly friendly badgering of one another. It was part of the “fun” they had at work. Keeping as busy as I could, while refraining from being a part of it was nothing new to me, at all. Trying to ignore them, I couldn’t help but understand that Bob was finally getting a taste of his own medicine.

At some point in their head games, Adam must have said something along the lines of replacing Bob with me. Bob began trying me at my abilities to decipher how to use and understand machinery in the shop. He normally took it upon himself to belittle me by giving me extensive instructions, as if I was lacking experience with woodworking machinery. This also gave him an excuse to be doing very little.

Bob had tried to make me look incompetent by sending me to change shaper bits, set the machine’s equipment up to do the machining, and run the cabinetry parts on that piece of machinery- machinery that I had never, ever, seen before. It really displeased him that he didn’t have an example of incompetence to give to Adam.

Bob was becoming more nervous about me replacing him, and doing what was within his power at making things worse for me. Because Bob was my ride, I absorbed the impact on the ride home with the head games that would accumulate, having a destructive affect on my psyche. My stress level was going through the roof, triggering my Paranoia, which caused a lot of disturbance for me. Things compounded until I began to make a lot of mistakes on the job. My first instinct was to think that someone had moved my parts that were stacked in a certain way, in order to be cut or shaped properly. And maybe they had been.

On another occasion I was working materials through a machine fed overhead belt sander that always accumulated a large pile of sawdust beneath it despite the dust collection system. Deciding I had to sneak a cigarette, thinking that my nerves would calm down, I used the vacuum of the system to evacuate the cigarette smoke from the area. Since I was at the other end of the shop, they wouldn’t be able to see me smoking, and since they frowned on my taking a cigarette break I would be able to conceal it with the help of the vacuum.

Well, I had set the cigarette down and the cherry fell off into the pile of sawdust. The smoke started to come from underneath the unit, filling the area. They thought I had burned the belt but it was the sawdust pile smoldering. I panicked, trying to find the fire before they came over. It was now a glowing spot of ember about eight inches around. Luckily I managed to take care of it before it could be a serious problem but part of me thought it would really be something they deserved for the dangerous games they were playing with my head. It was well known by all involved, that I had been coping with psychological issues as a result of my automobile accident. Fortunately, my Social Security claim was finally granted to me- a full award of benefits.

A very short time after that, I quit and moved in with my sister, Amanda. The house was the one in Conklin, where I had been helping my mother before the Julie fiasco. It didn’t feel safe in Bob’s company any longer, and having my disability award gave me the independence needed to get away from him once again. Although we have had our many differences, I would continue to think of him and his wife. And although he may never know or accept it, I understand why he has issues enough to see past his Ego, and care for him as a friend, though scarred as we both are.   

Now that I had a job, and a goal, I decided to try, one last time, to find someone special to share my time with. Having heard the many commercials for eHarmony for a few years, along with many other dating sites, even though I scoffed at them, I decided to start looking into the idea.

EHarmony’s site was the most logical to me. I mean, if you’re going to try it, you need to be logical. Things began with trying the offers to check out these places for free, and then I figured that the eighty or ninety dollars it cost was a glass ceiling- a way of grading the prospects. If a person wasn’t concerned with the fee, they were probably worth my time, even if I wasn’t what they were generally looking for in life but then again, I was looking for a particular person myself. It was all fair play.

Never breathing a word to anyone about my plans, I set up a free account to browse with. Using the photo that Yoa had taken of me in Key West, I filled out my profile information, went through all of the protocol for getting my matches from the database, and started surfing for potential women to interact with.

When I knew I was onto something that looked meaningful I bought a money order, mailed it to them, and waited for the notification that I was able to start the process. That’s when I met Jenny.

Jennifer was not the first girl I tried to start interaction with. There were several women that I had screened, all rejecting me for something I had written in my profile. The question of what that was got me to wonder if I had said something wrong, so I inspected it, deciding that I had said nothing wrong at all. Something I said might have sounded strange to them but I wasn’t going to go in and change it to improve my chances. If they didn’t like what I stated in my profile, then it was only because they weren’t worth my time. It was only a matter of time before I would meet the person who could appreciate what was there to move on with, which is exactly what happened.   

Jennifer had posted a photo that was taken by Siena, her four year-old little girl. It wasn’t a flattering photo but I instantly knew when I saw it, that she had used it for a reason. The photo, for the sake of what she looked like was unimportant. It was what that photo said to me that was important, and it spoke volumes. We started out by picking the questions that were prewritten, the ones that help you get to know something more but providing a buffer from the rejection a person might feel if it goes wrong somehow. We read each others answers, continuing the process until she decided that she was interested in taking it to the next level, which was direct chat communication over the computer.

Our cerebral connection grew until we decided that it was time to meet and see if there was more, even though her friends told her that I was probably bald because of the hat I was wearing in my photo. That was in September of 2008.

My mother insisted on driving me to Jenny’s apartment instead of me taking the bus, so she could lay eyes on her, determining if she was a good idea for me to be dabbling with. Knowing my history with all the wrong women, it was possibly the most loving thing my mother could have offered me in our relationship at the time.

By November we knew we were compatible. She liked how I got along with her two children, and I liked being with them. By Christmas we were comparing notes to be certain that we had something that was real. Before the winter had begun, we knew that we wanted to end our search, and before winter was over we knew that we had finally found what we both searched for and wanted to keep.

This new birth between Jenny and I led me to move to Lansing with her. There were a few inconveniences with re-establishing my medical care but I didn’t care. Certainly, I am not about to say that life has been a bed of roses. Anyone who thinks it is, clearly, hasn’t actually had to do anything for them self, and will find that they are helpless when they are forced to have to carve an existence out of the Earth on their own.

Roses need tending to and only become as beautiful as you care for them to be. Ours were growing just wonderfully where we were in Mesick, Michigan. She and I had not been happier in life despite the wolves that always seemed to be at our door. Without those wolves, we wouldn’t have been able to fully love and appreciate each other as much as we did in 2011 despite the probationary period before my sentencing for the dui stemming from my nervous breakdown in Traverse City. I could only hope for the rest of the world to one day have the same sense of well being for their own. 

(Authors note- this was then. Now is now. Chapter 41 reveals  a severe failure, and the destruction of my "happy" home due to a severe gambling problem.  Just in case you are confused. The recent change of events have not been reflected upon yet. It takes a while to get over the sting in order to revisit them to share. This ended my sobriety and the story is yet to be completed. Hopefully it ends with my escaping the despondent sea, thus encouraging and supporting others. If I write it too soon, my attitude may come through and destroy the integrity of what the story is supposed to be. Part 41 is in pieces so far, and can be found in the list. I hope you can understand. Thank you).

Not having found what you do not want in life, how will you know what you do want? Joy, Love and Pain go together. Life is Good when you let Love Win. Don’t go through life without feeling it.         

"Part 39 He's Psycho"

Within a week or two, they sent a Psychiatrist in to evaluate me because no one goes to trial with a trespassing charge. He interviews me, tells me to, “Keep fighting champ,” and then leaves. 

Several continuances later, they tell me that because I am unfit and incompetent, that there would be no trial. Forty-five days after they brought me in I am sent to court where they give me time served. I was released on Valentines Day.

Chapter; fourth release

That very night, I went to the Safe Zone. When I awoke the next morning, a truck had arrived that was driven by an elderly man looking for people who wanted to go to work. Wiping the grease from my face, and grabbing my belongings, I ran to the vehicle. It seemed only one other person was interested. It didn’t seem peculiar at the time; that no one was really interested. And I didn’t care about anything but the question of work. After I got into the truck we headed for a marina, where a boat was being loaded with tools and supplies.

As we waited to leave, I was told that we were to be working on a home on, Ballast Key, ten nautical miles west of Key West. Smiling, and filled with a renewed hope for a change, I was able to finally enjoy the moments as we cruised out to Ballast Key.

On the way out, we were told that the job entailed storm damage to the home used by the servants and guests, one of two that were built on the island. The project was at the drywall repair stage, since the work had already been done to the exterior.

The first night there, I slept under the stars, in a hammock on the beach. It was beautiful to have the sounds of the surf, the warm air blowing, and the starlit sky for company. 

For some reason, I awoke from a dream at about two thirty in the morning. My eyes focused in on the stars, and I looked for meteors and shooters. That was when I saw the red streak shoot across the sky at a great distance. It went from south to north. As I attempted to understand what I had just seen, a blue streak shot across the sky from east to west, traveling from as far way as I could see to the farthest it could be seen traveling. This was perpendicular to the path of the red one. It was a very strange and confusing sight.

Later, I would inquire many places about it but received no comments of any sort. Why the coloration? Why did they intersect? Why did it seem like one was responding to the other? Was one or both meteor or comet? What is it that I saw? I want to know. I need to know!

We were going to be staying for several days, I found out, possibly a week or more. On the third day things got ugly. The guys I had come to work with turned into pirates, attacking me for my cigarette tobacco, taking my food, kicking me out of what they had going on and beating me up in the process. Now without food, I used the moon, lighting the waters up in the shallows, making it easy to find lobsters among the rocks for my supper. It seemed like a great idea to relocate my bedding area, moving to a new location to sleep at that night. It had to be somewhere they would not find me, for the fear that I would disappear.

That night, while the property owner slept in his home, they had looted the property, throwing the rifles into the oceans surf that they found in the home. They raided food stores that were hidden, as well as vandalized the entire home, starting by slinging cooking oil all over the walls that we had just repaired, demonized by the liquor they had stolen.

The next day I asked them what happened, thinking that refugees had come ashore. They said it was a “power play”. That was a curious thing to say, and I am not sure what they meant but it seems like they were trying to extort money from the owner, David Wolkowsky. That’s when the guy I joined them with decided it would be best if we stuck together. It didn’t matter by then because we were loaded onto the boat and taken back to Key West within the next few hours. It was a silent and uncomfortable ride with evil but for the sounds of the boat cruising on the ocean.

When we arrived back at the marina, they asked me to join up with them in going up the Keys to another location to work. As I took down their phone number, I thought “Yeah, right”, while gathering my things. In another ten seconds I hit the bricks running. They probably had plans for me due to the fact that I had witnessed what they had done. This I was certain of.

Back on “Coquina Rock”, I searched for a place to hide, like an animal. Finding a marina on the north side of the island, I met some street people who also resided in the area. They tell me that if I take five dollars to Dante’s Inferno, I can hang out there by the pool all day without any hassles from the Key West Police Department. They explained that I would be a paying customer, giving me the right to be there, which turned out to be true but that only lasts for as long as you can come up with the daily five bucks.

After the money that I had was gone, I began hiding my clothing that I had acquired from the thrift shop, underneath a low hanging palm tree, so I wouldn’t be seen carrying a bag. It was one of my only defenses to blend in.

As for the thrift shop, even if you have no money, you can still get what you need to have. The Salvation Army will gladly outfit you with whatever your needs are, taking down your social security number to submit for the accounting. If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to go to the thrift shop for help. No matter what help you may need, they will get you on the right track. And the best thing for you to do, if you ever find yourself down and out, is to stay away from anyone else on the street accept for the one person in the crowd that you can grow to confide in. Usually it’s the old man in the wheel chair that will be the most instrumental in recovering. Everyone else will keep you down and out, and don’t you forget it. This could prove to be life saving information if you ever find yourself on the street. The most potentially deadly situations will be found while searching for change, booze or a little dope. Keep to yourself and go without anything you think you need. All you need is air to breath, warmth, and a place to sleep. Anything else could get you killed- instantly or slowly but certain and definite.

Very quickly, I became acquainted with an old man in an electric wheel chair who was a Musician. He had a place that he stayed at behind a building that was condemned. There was an awning on the backside of it that was helping keep it concealed very well, along with trees, bushes, and fencing from the surrounding backyards. The awning kept the weather off of us pretty good, and it had a safe feeling about it. He said that it was the safest hide-away on the streets. Adding that he has used this particular spot for several years.

The first night I slept there with him, I had a dream about this humanoid demon. His chest had a cage door and behind it were my children. Their screams for me to release them were ear piercing. The head of this creature was extremely large and made of, what seemed like, Paper Mache. The head grew in size as I fought with this monster. Hacking at the head with a knife, I tore a large hole in it from the right temple to the chin on the opposite side. It laughed and said that I couldn’t destroy him, and that he was one hundred and forty eight years old. Terrorized by this nightmare and vision, I awoke, only to lay there the rest of the night wishing I could sleep again without the visions.

During the days, I hiked the local harbor where I would check in with boat Captains for work. There was a public head with a shower facility for the people who lived in the harbor on their various types of boats. If I stayed by it, I could manage to get inside before the door closed all the way, since being a person renting a slip or mooring ball is the only way to get a key to use it.

One day I had managed to acquire some money and went to a Tiki bar to sit and get a drink, while watching them feed the Tarpon from the docks with chicken scraps. The Tarpon were huge. Marveling at the sight of these Tarpon, I sipped my drink. That’s when I noticed a woman with a baby carriage walking along the dock in front of the Tiki bar. She had a sun hat and large sunglasses on, the air blowing her sundress around at her knees. It was Yoa, Sean’s new girlfriend, and an Icelander.

Yoa was the woman Sean had been seeing when he was thrown out of the apartment. She was from Iceland, here on a Visa to work as an Actress. She had become pregnant, which concerned Sean. He would often ask me about the situation but I just told him that it could be the best thing to ever happen to him if he let it be.

Yoa, of course, wanted to marry, becoming a U.S. resident but he shared his fear with me that she may have been using him. They had the baby just months before this, and were living together somewhere on the island. Routinely, I had been checking in with him at The Island Dogs bar when I was not in jail, only hoping for some news I could use.

Speaking her name got her to look my way. She was quick to join me at the table, where we talked for a while. It wasn’t easy to explain to her that I needed a friend and some guidance at finding a way home. It felt as though she may get the wrong impression, so I was careful in explaining my situation and the circumstances surrounding it.

There happened to be a place that was having a Grand Opening that night. Yoa mentioned that it was a new bar/restaurant that was having an Open Mike and outdoor dinner and drink special. Fifteen dollars got you a plate of food and all the beer you could drink. They were going to be there that night. Happily, I agreed to meet them there, with hope of getting some help with my dire needs from Sean.

Sean and Yoa showed up after I had been there for a few minutes. We got a table and were served our food and first round of drinks. Yoa snapped a photo of me that evening, and they brought me back to their pad, where I stayed for about two weeks.

During the time that they let me stay at their apartment, I managed to get a call back home. Calling Bob, (practically begging him to help me get home), was a bit humiliating but I got over it. He agreed to help me, purchasing a bus ticket on the next bus leaving Key West for Grand Rapids. With the help of the last couple hundred dollars Bob had to work with, I would be leaving Key West within the next few days.

Before I left, Sean got a job working as a home stereo salesman for a well-known department store- Sears. We would sit on his porch when he got home in the evening, smoking cigars and talking about things that were important in life. Yoa didn’t really like it that Sean would be gone all day, then come home and sit outside until they went to bed. There isn’t a woman alive that would appreciate that but I think he was afraid of the strange new environment of being a father. Feeling it was my job to put him at ease, I did what I could to reinforce him about the situation. He was doing the best he could at the time.

Andy happened to drive through one day, stopping when he saw that Sean’s car was home. Andy soon found out that I was there and quickly worked himself into a frenzy. It was hard to keep from getting into a brawl with him over all the wrong that I felt he had done to me but, because I was at someone else’s apartment, I kept from being moved to creating a disturbance in the community.

Andy persisted at telling me that I had to leave Key West. His fear that I was in the area only reinforced my understanding of his malice towards me. It made me feel a sense of satisfaction that he and Julie were together as a couple. The way I figured, they deserved each other.

When he finally left, Sean Adams, commended me for being a “class act”. All I really truly wanted to do was pummel, Andy Flynn, into a bloody, quivering heap, load him into a fishing boat and put him into a chum machine. That’s exactly how I felt. It was with a sense of gratitude to Sean, that I controlled myself. And I was just thankful that this didn’t happen to me. Finally. I was leaving.

(I am republishing this in order so that you may follow along better. I did this special for you.)
Peace, Love, Care-
Zachery Scott Polk and
MadPat Kiderm, Sea Captain