I somehow kept my composure and casually headed over to the bar, having ran the tournament for some time, I was friends with most of the staff and the bartender on duty this night was no exception. Shane and I had been out drinking on many occasions and I considered him a good friend. A fact he confirmed when after hearing my tale he told me to follow him. He led me to a door that said ’employees only’ and went down to the basement. He told me to stay down there and that he would find out what they wanted. The basement was basically a storage area for the bar’s inventory with an office at the back, it had a door going out back about half-way down the stairs for delivery purposes. I waited for what seemed like an hour but was closer to 5 minutes when I hear the door open and Shane calling out my name as he comes down. He confirmed my fears and told me that they were in fact there for me and were now checking people’s I.D.’s, he said to stay put and he would return when the coast was clear. I remember thinking that they must have found out who I was and about my warrants to be going through this much trouble to find me. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the door upstairs open once again. This time no one called out my name and I felt the anxiety rise up with each step they took. I retreated to the office, locked the door and turned out the lights, better to be safe than sorry. I then sat in the chair behind the desk and waited to either hear my name or have them go away. My heart froze when I heard the door knob jiggling and someone pushing on the door. After realizing it was firmly locked they went off to another part of the basement, I let out my breath but was still feeling terrified that it was the cops out there. I once again froze as they were back at the door and trying feverishly to get in, this time with a crowbar. I dove under the desk and pulled the chair up as close to me as I could, trying to be as still as a rock. The lock finally gave and the door burst open, they turned on the light and as they approached the desk, I could see black leather boots on his feet. I went numb as I was convinced that this was a cop and that the jig was up, as he rounded the desk he pulled out the chair and we locked eyes.
The shock took a moment to wear off and my spirit soared when I realized it was only the bar’s handyman who had been drinking all day and was coming down for a nap on the floor. He did not know I was down there and thought the door was jammed, that is why he used the crowbar. After having a quick laugh about it he asked me why I was down there? I explained the situation and he was very sympathetic as he was not very fond of cops either. He led me back into the main room where there was a bank of monitors I had not previously noticed. He turned them on and we could see what was going on in the bar, it looked as if the cops were over in the dance floor section of the bar harassing them, and had finished with the pool players. I thought this was the perfect time to act, I wrote out a note to a friend in the tourney that I trusted completely. I had been to his house many times and we had smoked many bowls together so I knew I could trust him. I asked if he would grab my pool-cue, get in his car and come pick me up at the back door. A tall task for someone who don’t know why the cops are looking for me, only that they are. The handyman took the note up to my friend and I sat and watched on the monitors as he casually grabs my cue and his coat, and walks out of the place. One of the cameras was pointing out to the parking lot and my anxiety started to wane as I watched him pull right up to the back door, I told the handyman to thank Shane for his help and thanked him as well then headed out the back door and into the car. I couldn’t help but feel a little smug as we were leaving the parking lot knowing the Barney Fief’s inside had no clue.
That was the closest call I had yet and it shook me out of any fantasy I may have had about staying in Washington. Unfortunately in the ten days or so since claiming my winnings, I had spent over half of it and was now down under 100 dollars, not enough to get to South Carolina. I could not ask Carol for help as she had already given me a place for the past ten days and she had two kids to take care of and my immediate family was not an option either. I thought about my favorite cousin John, we had been very close growing up, he was down with the cannabis culture and was one of the few relatives who supported my decision to leave. I called him up and laid things out for him. He was happy to help and wired me some money to get on a bus. This time there was no lollygagging around and I made the plan to get out the next day. I felt the bus station in Mount Vernon would be too risky and Carol agreed, she offered to take me down to Seattle just to be on the safe side. I got the money the next afternoon and that evening I was headed out-of-town for the last time. I felt a tinge of bitter-sweetness as I took my final glances, I had become very attached to this place in the short time I had lived here and was sad that I could not make it work, but was happy that I was leaving a free man. When we arrived in Seattle I gave Carol a big hug and thanked her for her help telling her I would get in touch once I got settled in South Carolina.
While looking over the route at the station, I saw that the trip to South Carolina would go right through my home town and the price was the same to get one ticket to South Carolina or two tickets, One to Madison and then one to S.C. I decided I could not pass through my hometown without stopping to see some friends and family. The bus trip was uneventful and went by quickly, I called a couple of friends along the way to get me a ride once I got to town. My best buddy Scott, whom I had spent many years on the party train with, told me I could stay with him but he had to be at work when my bus came in and could not pick me up. My long time friend Jamie, who was also down with the cannabis scene, was free and said he would be happy to come get me. The bus got into town in the late morning on Friday and Jamie was waiting there with a big smile, it was good to see an old friend. He took me to his new house on the west side, a beautiful, big place in a quiet neighborhood. Within a few moments of arriving he had a big bong packed up and ready to go, we spent the afternoon smoking the KGB and reminiscing about all the good times we’d had. The evening came much too soon and when his wife and kids got home, the reality of the present came rushing back. He had family duties and I had to keep moving on, so he gave me a ride over to my folks house on the east side. Along the way my anticipation grew about seeing my mother’s face when she saw me, she did not know I was coming and I knew she would be happy to see me. When we arrived I thanked Jamie for a great afternoon and said goodbye promising to stay in touch. As I stood in front of the house I grew up in, a flood of memories came rushing back of all the good times I had spent in this house and how lucky I had been to have such a happy childhood. When I opened the door expecting my mom to be shocked, I got my step father saying “we figured you’d come around at some point”. Not the greeting I was expecting but it turns out that since I had not contacted my buddy Scott when I got to town, he got a little concerned and called my parents house to see if I was there. So they knew I was coming and had been waiting, my mother was still very happy to see me and I think even my step-dad was happy to see me again. We spent the next couple of hours catching up and made plans for steak dinner on the grill the next evening. Scott came by and picked me up and off we went to his place for a night of partying just like the old days.
A Continuing Story About Life On The Run