The words woke me from my contemplations: the man accress the street was loading a bag of corn meal or oats into his old station wagon. It would appear as though his experience in a) carring large loads and b) stowing said loads was slim to none.
"Ma'am, I do apologize. I's only resting while I get some things together... Have you folks any water near by?"
"Yes sir I see, but I'm afraid you simply cannot rest here. See, this is a grocery and folk's coming in and out of here all day and, well, we would prefer it if you rested over there."She pointed to the highway, the direction I had just come from not less than a half an hour ago.
"Ma'am, there's no shade ore' there" I said pointing with my chin. "- but you wouldn't have a spicket 'round here would'ja? I'd like to get some water and then I'd be glad to move on I suppose."
"Mister, we're not allowed to entertain..." She paused. This was always my favorite section of people's refusals: how would they refer to me. To us. I was always partial to 'the Peaceful' or 'travelers' but no one uses them anymore.
"... folks in your state. Look, it'd be best you leave or my boss might ring for the police."
I stood.
"There be no need young lady." I placed my right hand upon my worn hat brim and tipped it in her direction. "You have a nice afternoon ma'am."
Nothing.
To remain in this situation would only create in me non-resolve.
To remain in this mode would surely damage any chance of constructive outcome.
I’ll wait.
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