The sun was setting on a Wednesday in southern Baja. I cracked a beer, jumped in the truck and gunned it down the rough dirt road leaving the solar powered Wi-Fi in the trailing dust. I was searching for the giant agave plants endemic to this region.
A mile later I entered a small valley of agave plants and found four that were still small enough to transplant to my plot of desert land. I also came across a big pile of garbage that somebody had dumped out there.
The sun was gone by now but the moon was bright. I put on my leather gloves and gathered the flammable trash into a pile that blazed into the night sky with a touch of my blowtorch.
My beer was empty and I was hot and sweaty so I came home. The generator broke down yesterday so there wasn’t any hot water at the house I’m renting but the cold water actually felt great.
Feeling refreshed, I put on my cleanest dirty shirt and headed into town to check out some live music. I barely speak Spanish and I certainly don’t know how to salsa dance but I nodded my head to the band while downing fifty peso Pacificos.
I was supposed to meet up with my friend Jesse at the bar. We met last year when I buried my truck to the frame in deep sand on the beach and he pulled me out. Jesse was a no show. Later I found out his truck battery had died and he was stranded without cel reception.
I’m new in town and don’t really know many people yet so I stood around the bar as it got more crowded. Eventually I started chatting with a young lady that spoke English. Her name was Autumn and she just bought a house near here. She told me that she used to live in Colorado and Oregon. “Me too.”, I said.
“Do you know Landon Dowlen?” She asked me out of the blue. About twenty years ago I used to date his wife Angela before they met oddly enough. This planet Earth, it’s so very small.