John and Brianna Part 2 The Swimming Pool
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SargeChapter 16 free porn video
It took a month, after I picking up my first purchase of materials for the inside of the camper, to get it on the road. It wasn’t because I was having problems working on it. It was because it took that long for me to get past, whatever caused the attack on my skeletal system. In the meantime I continued to ride the bike in the morning and the scooter whenever I needed to go anywhere.
After the first two of those weeks, I had a surprise visitor. You guessed it, Ms Shepard showed up at my door. She showed up with only one Secret Service operative.
“I want my pink computer,” she demanded.
“Good to see you to Ms. Shepard. I haven’t seen you since the day you got me blown up. But it was nice of you to call and check on me. I don’t have your toy at the moment, but if you wait here, I can get it for you. It might take me fifteen minutes or so. That is, if I haven’t forgotten the combination.”
“Jeff and I will wait here, by the way is that an ambulance in the driveway?” she asked.
“So it is,” I said. I went outside to open the back door of the ambulance and swing to the side. Then I enter inside it. A couple of minutes later I rolled the scooter down the ramp, which I had pushed out of the rear.
I took off on the scooter in a hurry. I pulled into the storage locker building a few moments later. I checked in, then removed the computer from my antique safe.
I made it back with the computer after only twenty two minute. It seemed Jeff was more than a bodyguard. He knew a little about computers. He was able to verify that the general had indeed owned the computer.
“So do we have a drink for old time sake, or do you shoot me now?” I asked.
“Where and what is your dead man switch?” she answered my question with one of her own.
“I made a rushed video, while I removed the computer. I left it for a couple of friends, who you do not know,” I admitted.
“Anything less would have been a disappointment,” Shepard said. “Well we have a plane to catch.”
“Really?” I asked.
“No not really, I just feel claustrophobic in this shoe box.” she demanded.
After she left the pain began to subside even more. It wasn’t gone by any means, it was just muted and in the background. It was not the first thing I thought of in the mornings, as it had been the last few weeks. It might be a good thing that I could not even remember a time when I was completely pain free. I could imagine me going into a tailspin of depression, if I imagined my life now compared to what it had been before the accident.
So it was half way through May when I took the camper for it’s first road trip. I did not take it on a two hundred mile trip as Tonya had suggested. I took it on a much shorter Drive. The ambulance still hadn’t been painted, so I got stared at all the way from home to the campground in High Point NC. The camp was owned by the city and operated by their parks and recreation department. I spent the weekend in one of their camping spaces. It came complete with power and even a water and sewer hook up.
I didn’t need either, but I did need to use of the bathhouse. It had three toilet stalls, and two shower stalls. I assumed the women’s side was at least as nice.
Since it was just a fact finding visit, I had left my shower gear in the ambulance. The shower kit included a towel of course, soap, and a wash cloth in a lightweight canvas bag. I also had a small leather bag with a toothbrush, paste, and a small bottle of mouth wash. I had it stored in one of the ambulances many cubbyholes. I made sure that I had easy access for the next morning.
After I cleared my body of all it’s waste, I headed back to Bertha, the retired ambulance. Yes I named it, just to keep it straight in my mind. Other wise I would have to run through a complete description every time I thought of her.
Once I was back with Bertha, I swung the rear door open. then carefully rolled the scooter down. It was not difficult at all. I needed to get it out of the back, so that I could finish setting up camp. The first thing I did was reposition Bertha. I turned around and backed it into the space, I took a really close look at it for the first time.
I made mental notes of where Bertha stood cosmetically. She wore a coat of both yellow and white colors. It was okay, but it shouted medical emergency vehicle. It was not at all what I intended. I planned to paint it first thing when I got home. I could always go with a camouflage paint scheme. I thought I would buy twenty bucks worth of spray paint and have a go at it. I supposed needed a deserted parking lot to have give it a shot.
Then there were the holes left by the removal of special light fixtures. Someone, presumably not Jasper, had cover the holes with epoxy, then placed a thin metal patch over the epoxy to prevent further damage. It seemed to be holding well enough.
There were larger holes where the lights had been built into the body. Those hole had been left empty. I immediately thought of the reflectors I had purchased for the lock shop’s drive. That size reflector could be epoxied over the holes. I would even get some safety reflectors from it.
It was getting close to dark, and I hadn’t eaten yet. So I locked Bertha and rode the scooter into the city of High Point for dinner. As usual I looked for a roadside diner. Within the first two miles, I found a local diner. That particular diner had revived a Hardee’s fast food building. I had a pretty decent Barbecue plate for dinner. It was really quite good as a matter of fact. Oh course it wasn’t spicy enough. I understood my grandmother might want barbecue, as well as the Mexican who cut grass all day long. It was more efficient for the Mexican to add hot sauce, than for the grandmother to have her stomach pumped. It made sense to just pour the Texas Pete like it was water on a fire.
After dinner I rode through the downtown just to see what, if anything, it offered. It offered me nothing. I saw a couple of strip clubs, but nothing that looked a little less entertaining. I could always resort to the Internet to offer advice to a stranger.
The advice was to try fishing. So I signed onto the WIFI belonging to the city, I assumed, then checked out the news sites on the web. Nothing caught my interest, so I gave up and lay in bed in a little box. It was a box, but one with good ventilation thanks to the fans, I had brought. Also thanks to the electric power supplied by the campground. At thirty bucks a night, it had to offer some conveniences to justify the cost.
Honestly I was able to do all the things I did at home. Life on the road might have been almost as inexpensive as staying home, if I counted everything. The fact that I had to continue paying for the lock shop’s expenses might enter into the equation at some point.
I awoke just before daylight. The bathhouse was empty which was what I planned. I had slept very well and the early morning shower was even more refreshing since the night hadn’t cooled off much at all. The weather was actually beautiful for camping.
After my shower I pulled on a pair of clean red gym shorts over my underwear for the walk back to Bertha. After I made, and drank. a complete pot of coffee made in a Mr. Coffee type electric coffee maker, I realized that it was yet another item on my long list of positive things about this kind of camping. I had to admit that it was better than an eight man tent in the desert.
After my morning coffee, I used a plastic dishpan to wash everything. I chose cold water rather than go to the bathhouse to do dishes in the shower. I wasn’t quite sure that it was an approved use of the camp space, but I figured if so the ranger would stop by to complain. I felt like anything which wasn’t forbidden in writing, I could get away with till someone complained.
I rode the scooter back into town after my cleanup. Since I enjoyed their biscuits, I stopped for breakfast at a real Hardee’s. I decided when I pulled into the lot to get breakfast and then head back to the campground to eat. Since it was attached to the marina, there might be something to look at over there.
Even at 7:30AM there were things to see. Fishermen were backing boat trailers into the loading areas. Then on a beach across the lake kayaks were being launched. It was pretty active even before the sculls were launched from the same beach. I sat on a picnic table and drank my coffee. I also ate my biscuit between the near collision drama coming from the scull and kayak areas.
I decided that all was well even before using my pirate style spyglass to check out the smallest of the boats. I brought the spyglass especially to see the sights. I didn’t usually carry it around unless I was working on something. I hadn’t needed it for work in a long time.
I sat at that table a lot longer than necessary. It was a good choice of tables for me. I say that because it was far from the kid’s playground area. I was a man alone. I needed to stay away from those places lest some over zealous mother accost me. I was told about that by Tonya. She was the first one who had bothered to explain the looks some innocent granddads, who just liked to watch kids play, got when they stopped to watch. There were those suspicious looks from the perv patrol. Shame too much coverage of the guilty people tainted the water for the innocent.
I went back to my camper to lay down. My back was bothering me a little more than usual. It was probably the newest movements which used different muscles and put a strain on different joints.
Two hours later I was back up and moving around. I decided to take a shot at fishing in the lake. I slipped the butt end of my own home made pocket fisherman into the scooter’s saddle bags. The short two foot long fiberglass ice fishing rod stuck out above the scooter’s frame.
I rode the couple of blocks from the campground to the marina and paid the man there to fish. Everything was about money, but it was their lake so their rules applied.
My bait was a couple of slices of fresh bread. I made the infamous dough balls for bait. I sometimes mixed a little charcoal grit from a grill just to give it texture. I caught only a few small fish, which was fine by me. I just wanted to see what worked anyway. You never could tell, when they might chose me for a crippled old man version of naked and afraid.
When the weekend was over, I left the campground. If they needed my site, I could have pulled Bertha off the site and parked it at the marina. The WIFI signal would hold up that far I suspected. Turned out that on a Monday morning there was no hurry for the space. I left an hour after lunch, which was at 2PM.
I arrived home just about 5PM. Since I had stayed in touch by cell phone, there was nothing new. The new sign in front of Sadie Mae’s was one of those horrible signs on wheels. I knew the city wouldn’t like that, but hell it was the weekend maybe the cop hadn’t bother. Then I got a look at it, and almost let out a cheer.
Not sadly, this had been the last weekend for Sadie Mae’s Saloon it seemed. ‘Come help us say goodbye to Siler City.’
I had missed the last nights, but I got a few souvenirs in the way of beer bottles and plastic cups scattered around my yard. I didn’t mind nearly as much this time, as I had on Saint Patrick’s Day. Simply because of a dollar store item. I had a three foot extension trash grabber. It wasn’t strong enough for glass bottles but it could handle the paper cups and napkins.
For the bottle I had invented a ‘pick me up’ tool. A strip of wood with a three inch long, 1/4 inch in diameter, bolt at one end. I had set it at a ninety degree angle to the handle. I just slid the bolt into the bottle and presto it was in the trash bag.
I did use Sadie Mae’s trash cans, since mine were too small. I did it when Sadie Mae’s owners were around. I dared them to say a work.
Actually I was surprised by how good I felt after doing the pickup job. It must have been all the rest I managed to get over the last couple of days. That and the two day change of scenery. I just felt more hopeful about my life. I had a moderate amount of pain, but at that level it was manageable.
So I thought ‘what would be better than to got sit on a river bank with a Pizza and a Thermos of Iced Tea. From the choices I had at Little Caesar’s, I chose a plain cheese pizza. I sat at a spot overlooking the Old Bynum Bridge canoe access point at the Haw River. The bridge was closed,, but it was a relic of times gone by and historically significant. I read about it when I was looking for a place to eat my pizza, but I swear I could hardly remember it. When I found it, I was surprised by the amount of decay to the Bridge. I was really beautiful how nature was reclaiming her river view.
The first Bynum Bridge was a wooden covered bridge. Bynum was a Mill town from it’s beginning. Just a fly turd on the map. There was no one at the small parking area at the entrance to the bridge when I arrived. Before I finished my pizza a car with three teenage boys and a single female showed up.
Even then I knew I should leave, but I felt remarkably good. Sure I had pain, but nothing I couldn’t work through. Besides I was at the bridge first. On the positive side they were just kids playing at being tough guys. They were trying to impress their chick. Part of the plan was to play rap music so loud anyone with more than half a brain would leave.
The largest of the kids, with some kind of wild foreign hair cut, seemed to be the leader. “Hey there, you with the pigtails. Turn your music down a little please,” I asked nicely.
What you say fool?” he asked.
“I said how about turning the radio down,” I replied.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
“No go ahead and bore me,” I replied.
“Eddie shoes, and these are my posse,” he said emphatically.
“Is the one with the boobs your body guard?” I asked with a grin.
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