Up-A -Creek Coffee Co., Whitehouse TX

Although I am stared at more than I am used to by eyes that don't bother to conceal distain over my looks or the dream I'm living, the few locals that step forward to know me hold their arms wide open begging to help, to be part of the walk. In a town called Troup that I walked away from yesterday, I stayed two nights with Jimmy and Penny. Jimmy met me at a car crash turn that goes in front of their house with a cold lemonade and a lawn chair. The three of us talked until we were more friends than strangers. This is what the walk is about.
In a couple of hours I am leading Jimmy through installing a new door in their living room and leveling the floor because a car hit their house. Success. After the drill, sandpaper, and saw are quiet I melt away layers in the shower. I am still amazed that I can turn good water so flithy. We drive to Red Lobster in Tyler for all-you-can-eat shrimp and a cold beer we had to show papers to buy(dry county). When we get home we find a drunk has crashed into one of the trees in their yard, bounced off and plowed the yard up with his truck. Bad corner to walk. Worse corner to be a house or a tree.
In the morning we tear apart a 1972 chevy truck bed to get the clean floor for Jimmy's baby that he is breathing life--and money into. I share Airstream tricks of deconstruction and sweat in exchange for homemade spagetti and another night on their leather couch with a kitten asleep behind my knees. Jimmy smiles through all the help. A month older than Jimmy, we are kids in the same sandbox, and loving life. Although I am thanked a hundred times before I leave, it was a perfect exchange. For two days I was needed. There is no better feeling.
Last night I set my tent in Lake Tyler. Most of the water is in a cloud somewhere else. Even non-farmers talk of the need for rain.
At Up-A-Creek Coffee Co. I am taken in by Renee and family. I stopped to talk rather than have a brew of magic beans because it is afternoon. Six hours later I was still in the same chair talking, turning strangers into voices that I could carry with me. We talk about routes, miles, and things not to do in Whitehouse......like walk into the evening with the intent of putting my shelter up in somebody's field. Police were constantly driving by as I walked north into Whitehouse. I am told that if I make one bad choice I would be given a room for the night. After a few phone calls by Renee who runs her brother's coffee shop because he is off in the war, I am camping in a dry lake bed. Everyone talks about the military here. In Texas I am proud to be a veteran of theU.S. Army's 82nd Airborne Division. Up north it was never a matter. In Texas I am thanked for my service. Thanked. A few towns back a kind man asks if I need anything. I smile and say that I just want to walk safely through Texas without a ride in a black and white.
"Those patches on your shoulders, here in Texas we put alot of stock in that. Just about every one that you talk to has somebody that is in harms way or has served. Down here, that means something. The police don't take to strangers. Being where you've been, your not(stranger)."