Poolesville, Maryland Library

The male libriarian that took card when I walked in appeared overly friendly, walking quickly from tbe counter as he walked me toward a door I wasn't ready for. He smiled alot, and he liked his words. He used alot of them to get where he was going even if it was a otherwise simple distance. It was late in the day. Camp was still a question mark. I looked alot at the windows the way I do when I see no progress in exchange for daylight. After explaining what I was doing, I asked to use the computer. The man with overly dry lips under a head of good hair told me about policy. Sort of.
Being the same age bracket that I am, he filled in about his dreams far away in Montana that would never grow. Nodding understandingly, I waited. My peer was in charge. That was fine. This was his stack of books. He told me in many ways. I showed him my belly like a good dog, hoping he would grant me a little screen time. More words about policy came up, words about policy to come. In the end I was refused use to use the libriary system with a huge smile. This was a first...anywhere! Churches that didn't know me from Adam opened their doors, and laptops. People that took me in for the night when they saw me cross their fields let me use their computers. Of course I was told about his personal power to grant waivers, and how he had in the past. I was not directly told why he wouldn't help me, except that he didn't want to.

"Ain't that somethin' though," asked the angled clerk?

"What's that," I asked in a even disconnected tone, my body already wanting to get ouside, away from this man?

"You can't use my computer, but I have your card here. Well, I can look up your sight any time I want to." He smiled like he had come up with a clever joke.

"Yeah, that's somthin' all right." I put my smile under my shoe. As I was turning to leave, night stealing all visable paths into the trees, my new 'friend' still tried to ask me more about my walk. A personal extra from me to him. I spoke a little until I internally yelled at myself for being too nice. I cut it there. He tried to tell me more stories he thought I still had a ear to hear.
In the end, I found camp a few miles away from town, where good water ran through the long bent yellow grass. It was in a hurry much like my own. No hurry. Listening to the geese come in on the pond through the trees, one poor bird kept complaining, then settled. I thought about the man that had to control who touched the keyboard. I didn't miss his type. Never would. Then I put him down in the water, forgeting about talk over fees, being a resident, the (un)Patriot Act(?), new state controls.
When it all settled on the bottom where the stones sat together in the center of the three foot wide of water, I pushed my hands into the brook to wash my face into the cold numbing I have come to love. As the water fell back to itself, I could see nothing in the waters. Night was coming alive.