ROAD MAPS, Chap. RED LADY 1
-Describe the texture.
-Soft.
Like fog.
-Can you go a bit deeper?
-The fog is hugging a ghost.
The ghost is made of thousands of tiny wooden strips.
The fog is like my grandmom's forearm, brushing past my hand as she puts down the soup.
-And what is on top?
-What do you mean?
-What is on top of this place?
-The wood.
Also, a steeple.
Not from a church.
It's Asian.
What do you call it?
-A pagoda?
-That's it. I heard that once. A pagoda.
-And where are you now?
-I'm walking in the parking lot. Taking pics with my phone. Trying to capture the lights and the fog.
-For what purpose?
-Cause I wanna remember.
-Why would you like to remember?
-Cause I forget things.
-Tell me about this walk.
-It's dark. Fog makes it darker.
I can see a river in the distance, but close.
It's on the other side of a bunch of fencing.
The fencing has a bunch of barbed wire at the top and bottom.
-Go closer to the fencing. Tell me what you see.
-There's a mess of weeds, broken trees and leaves that are on fire. Bright colors. Yellow, red, orange.
That's on the other side of the fence, before the water.
-And?
-I'm walking through this empty parking lot. Maybe about two or three cars. Also, three shipping containers parked to the far right. And behind the shipping containers, there's this RV. And a sign that says STAY OUT.
-Would they like you to stay out?
-That's what it says. I don't know. Pink spray paint is kinda funny though.
-Can you get to the other side?
-Yea. Found a break in the fence. A foot of space for me to jimmy my way in.
-Tell me what you see.
-Broken pavement. Broken trees. Messes of piles of broken lumber and ash. Burnt looking wood pieces in piles. Smells like someone's made a camp fire. You know? That's a scent I know. Mosquito lands on my face. I smack it. See a dark red spot on my palm. Another shipping container says IOU. Someone spray painted it, I guess. Weeds grow up from underneath the ground, breaking through the macadem. There's a bridge over there, on the right. Cars whirring back and forth. Passageway from Oregon to Washington. And on the bridge, there's a woman dressed in a red hoodie, standing on the side. I catch a glimpse of her real quick. Another mosquito. Smack. Pull back palm, red stain. She's still there. What's she gonna do? She's small because she's not close. She must be a quarter mile away, I don't know. But I can see her staring at me. Burning smell is getting stronger. Making my eyes tear up.
-What is this woman asking of you?
-I don't know. She's not asking me nothing. Wait. She's pointing. She's reaching out her arm. I think she's looking right at me but I can't tell because she seems so far but she's not but the bridge is a big thing and she's so small on it like a small person.
-What is she...?
-She's pointing at the river. I see it. There are some boats down on the water. A couple of boats.
-Why don't you go and see what she wants you to see?
-Walking. There's a little, some kind of bridge. It's got all this barbed wire and padlocks all over it. But they don't stop me because I'm already crawling on my butt over rocks, scaling down the side of it and on to the beach. I feel energized. I'm sinking in sand and my boots get heavy with this rain that's now started to fall and slosh around in my Timberlands. I'm right at the boats. The dock is broken shards of wood, falling apart. I take a step on to the dock and my boot goes right through like the whole thing is made of maple syrup. There's a shipping barge and a smaller boat parked right next to it. The barge is black, charred, burning ash dust. Looks abandoned. I don't know about being here.
-Closer.
-Got it.
-Closer.
-Heard you.
-Closer.
-Chill!
-Closer.
-Ok. Walk on to the small boat. Rain is fucking pouring now.
-What do you see?
-Boat is really going on these waves. River is getting crazy.
-What do you see?
-There's a note.
-What does it...?
-Says something about the heater needing to be fixed. Something about the boat's engine dying. Waiting on someone. It's dated today. The marker on the note is wet. Rain is washing it away. Someone has been here.
-What else?
-There is a painting on a easel. It's a painting of a woman wearing a red dress.
-And?
-Rain is pouring down in the boat now. I should head back.
-And?
-I should leave.
-You should wait.
-Why?
-Wait for someone to come.
-What?
-You tell me.
-Wow. Loud crashing, the docks are breaking and the wood is falling into the river. And the barge! It's smoking. It's on fire. I should leave.
-You should stay.
-But I can't.
-Yes, you can.
-The painting is beginning to smoke. The woman is melting. The boat is on fire. I need to run.
-Then, run.
-I can't.
-Then stay.
-I can't.
-Then, tell the woman you miss her and you will see her. Why don't you just say it to her yourself. She's right behind you. She's been watching you.
-I turn around and the woman in red dress is looking right at me, her outstretched arm pointing right at my face. I'm staring right at her hand as she starts to scream.
-Soft.
Like fog.
-Can you go a bit deeper?
-The fog is hugging a ghost.
The ghost is made of thousands of tiny wooden strips.
The fog is like my grandmom's forearm, brushing past my hand as she puts down the soup.
-And what is on top?
-What do you mean?
-What is on top of this place?
-The wood.
Also, a steeple.
Not from a church.
It's Asian.
What do you call it?
-A pagoda?
-That's it. I heard that once. A pagoda.
-And where are you now?
-I'm walking in the parking lot. Taking pics with my phone. Trying to capture the lights and the fog.
-For what purpose?
-Cause I wanna remember.
-Why would you like to remember?
-Cause I forget things.
-Tell me about this walk.
-It's dark. Fog makes it darker.
I can see a river in the distance, but close.
It's on the other side of a bunch of fencing.
The fencing has a bunch of barbed wire at the top and bottom.
-Go closer to the fencing. Tell me what you see.
-There's a mess of weeds, broken trees and leaves that are on fire. Bright colors. Yellow, red, orange.
That's on the other side of the fence, before the water.
-And?
-I'm walking through this empty parking lot. Maybe about two or three cars. Also, three shipping containers parked to the far right. And behind the shipping containers, there's this RV. And a sign that says STAY OUT.
-Would they like you to stay out?
-That's what it says. I don't know. Pink spray paint is kinda funny though.
-Can you get to the other side?
-Yea. Found a break in the fence. A foot of space for me to jimmy my way in.
-Tell me what you see.
-Broken pavement. Broken trees. Messes of piles of broken lumber and ash. Burnt looking wood pieces in piles. Smells like someone's made a camp fire. You know? That's a scent I know. Mosquito lands on my face. I smack it. See a dark red spot on my palm. Another shipping container says IOU. Someone spray painted it, I guess. Weeds grow up from underneath the ground, breaking through the macadem. There's a bridge over there, on the right. Cars whirring back and forth. Passageway from Oregon to Washington. And on the bridge, there's a woman dressed in a red hoodie, standing on the side. I catch a glimpse of her real quick. Another mosquito. Smack. Pull back palm, red stain. She's still there. What's she gonna do? She's small because she's not close. She must be a quarter mile away, I don't know. But I can see her staring at me. Burning smell is getting stronger. Making my eyes tear up.
-What is this woman asking of you?
-I don't know. She's not asking me nothing. Wait. She's pointing. She's reaching out her arm. I think she's looking right at me but I can't tell because she seems so far but she's not but the bridge is a big thing and she's so small on it like a small person.
-What is she...?
-She's pointing at the river. I see it. There are some boats down on the water. A couple of boats.
-Why don't you go and see what she wants you to see?
-Walking. There's a little, some kind of bridge. It's got all this barbed wire and padlocks all over it. But they don't stop me because I'm already crawling on my butt over rocks, scaling down the side of it and on to the beach. I feel energized. I'm sinking in sand and my boots get heavy with this rain that's now started to fall and slosh around in my Timberlands. I'm right at the boats. The dock is broken shards of wood, falling apart. I take a step on to the dock and my boot goes right through like the whole thing is made of maple syrup. There's a shipping barge and a smaller boat parked right next to it. The barge is black, charred, burning ash dust. Looks abandoned. I don't know about being here.
-Closer.
-Got it.
-Closer.
-Heard you.
-Closer.
-Chill!
-Closer.
-Ok. Walk on to the small boat. Rain is fucking pouring now.
-What do you see?
-Boat is really going on these waves. River is getting crazy.
-What do you see?
-There's a note.
-What does it...?
-Says something about the heater needing to be fixed. Something about the boat's engine dying. Waiting on someone. It's dated today. The marker on the note is wet. Rain is washing it away. Someone has been here.
-What else?
-There is a painting on a easel. It's a painting of a woman wearing a red dress.
-And?
-Rain is pouring down in the boat now. I should head back.
-And?
-I should leave.
-You should wait.
-Why?
-Wait for someone to come.
-What?
-You tell me.
-Wow. Loud crashing, the docks are breaking and the wood is falling into the river. And the barge! It's smoking. It's on fire. I should leave.
-You should stay.
-But I can't.
-Yes, you can.
-The painting is beginning to smoke. The woman is melting. The boat is on fire. I need to run.
-Then, run.
-I can't.
-Then stay.
-I can't.
-Then, tell the woman you miss her and you will see her. Why don't you just say it to her yourself. She's right behind you. She's been watching you.
-I turn around and the woman in red dress is looking right at me, her outstretched arm pointing right at my face. I'm staring right at her hand as she starts to scream.
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