3.09.2026 - Pedestrian Scum

New series from old notes I took, mostly while walking around.
Be safe out there people.
-JA

1.
Mornings Jamestown wakes up in a sleeping bag in the back of a cargo van parked forever on a property strewn with tools and trash. This is Old Town, Traverse City, Michigan. He puts on a bike helmet, hockey pads on his arms and knees, inserts the mouth guard he found under some deflated basketballs, straps on a pair of iron boots left behind by a group of live action role players where they meet on the riverbank and slow motion fight with fake swords. Prepares himself mentally and spiritually for his walk to the corner store. Emerges from the van out into the yard organized into piles the order of which he alone understands. Let's say it's spring and his nose itches from an invisible cloud of pollen hanging in the air. Let's also say it's overcast but not so dark as to not be seen. He moves carefully, turning his head from side to side like a radar dish, scanning for threats and any broken furniture someone may have left for him to add to the collection. He looks in on the guitar teacher's house hoping to hear some music coming out of there but it's silent. The lights are out in the rehab center as well and he wonders if it's a holiday when a shuttle bus full of addicts from around the county comes up on him from behind and rolls him over without stopping.

2.
He used to talk but now he don't.

3.
He's out front of Maxbauer's pondering how to get himself a slab of beef when a mail truck jumps the curb. He can see through his one eye and a crack in the helmet from his position on the ground the truck keeps chugging til it hits an empty newspaper box a little further a ways on. Smoke pours out the back and he wonders is the mail on fire. Christmas cards and mailers and special opportunities for life insurance from your credit union. The driver in a postal uniform gets out with markings on his face or injuries he can't be sure, checks the tires for some reason, looks around like someone should be there to help. The sun's going down and about a dozen other cars go by throwing up icy slop onto the curb.

4.
At the Munson ER it's nothing serious, they say, looks like he's had a few bangups before, it's hard to tell if some of the damage is new or old. Stand up now, says a doctor or could be a janitor with a stethoscope and he's limping a little but it doesn't hurt and it's like part of his leg is missing, like there's a void in there, a little black hole at the bottom of his femur and he's numb all over which he guesses is from the meds and they say see it's not that bad, we don't really need an x-ray and they're still talking to each other all huddled in the corner by some machines and he limps out from behind the curtains and he's in the family practice wing now and it feels familiar like he's been there before and he presses the handicap button to open out into the recessed parking lot that looks more like a loading dock for a factory and it's all jammed with cars and he can see the old insane asylum up the hill and he thinks it'd be nice to have a bed to lie on without a bunch of people standing over me and that's when an ambulance with its red lights strobing almost gently but not making any noise with its siren comes down the ramp and knocks him to the ground again.