The last of Bird Song's unfed guests arrived with a yawn. It was Pumpkin Green's third day since arriving with an overladen shopping cart he insisted on lugging to his second floor room. Pumpkin's vegetable nickname didn't come from his size. He was as skinny as a stick, in his early twenties, and his long blond hair hadn't seen scissors since he began his transcontinental trek. As Dean entered the room, Pumpkin was filling his plate with baked goods.
"The thing about all this walking exercise is I can eat like a pig and stay thin," he replied to Dean's greeting. Dean wondered if Bird Song could afford the food bill as he sat down and joined Pumpkin for a cup of coffee.
"I suppose everyone asks you, but why are you doing it?" Dean asked. "It's got to be a drag at times, and lonely."
"I think it's stupid, if you ask me," Joseph Dawkins said as he rose to leave. The rest of the clan followed without a word.
Pumpkin paid them no mind. He sat back, a twenty-year-old philosopher, but his cadence said he'd answered the question frequently. "I didn't plan it or nothing. I got some guys in my 'hood pissed at me, so I decided to split. I had some stuff I wanted to take with me and I didn't have a suitcase so I grabbed a shopping cart. Then in Jersey I made up a cardboard sign saying I was doing it for the homeless." He laughed. "That's me-homeless!" He bit into more pastry. "It kinda sucks out there when it rains but most of the time it's a hoot. You get to meet all kinds of interesting people. I got interviewed for a newspaper in Zanesville, Ohio. After eleven pairs of shoes, two stray dogs who gave up on me, and a girl friend who skipped off with a coal truck driver in West Virginia, here I am."
"What are you going to do when you reach California?" Dean asked.
"First off, go for a swim! Then try and get an acting job. I've had lots of experience. I played in a heavy metal band, I did some off-off-off Broadway gigs, and lots of road company stuff. I've traveled all over. I did TV too, a McDonald's commercial. I had a video of it but some jerk ripped it off my shopping wagon in Pittsburgh."
"First time in Colorado?" Dean asked.
"No, I did lots of towns here. I've been all over and most of it looks the same from a bus or a bar. To tell the truth, I was kind of blitzed most of the time back then-booze, not the bad stuff-but now I'm all clean. The good life on the road cleared me up. I'm a jock now." Dean certainly hoped so-at least the clean part.