Fourth Migration

Grey dawn and cloudy skies warned of the winter pressing down upon me from the north as I stepped outside the RV with Buena and onto the Taos’ Walmart parking lot. Wondering whether I could now be considered one of “those Walmart people” in my purple pajama bottoms, fuzzy boots, black hat, and fuzzy white vest, I looked around at scant traffic passing by on the main road. Not much happening on the lot either.

The last thing I wanted to do was stand on the parking lot and watch Buena sniff the scent of a gazillion other dogs who’d also visited that very same patch of earth next to the asphalt lot.

“Come on, Buena, finish,” I urged, wanting to get back to the warm cocoon of the RV with my hot tea and thoughts of another day. I’d named her Buena after the Colorado town: Buena Vista. The locals who wanted to prove they were local insisted on the French pronunciation of bew-nah rather than the Spanish pronunciation of b-way-na. It was a linguistic game that dated way back to the founding of the town because one of the settlers insisted on the French pronunciation. I thought it was funny, so I named my dog bew-nah.

The cold air blew across the skin on the back of my neck, so I pulled the fuzzy vest higher, pulling my braids out from under it.

Not that it was too cold yet, but I’d looked at the weather maps. The arctic air had already descended on Buena Vista and was headed this way. Once I hit Albuquerque, I wouldn’t have to worry about the danger of the RV pipes freezing. If the grey- and black- water tanks froze, the repair would be costly, and I only had about $20 in cash and $36 in checking. I did have about $400 in my stock market app on the phone, but I couldn’t take that money out until the funds settled in another 5 or 6 days.

I’d started walking Buena back toward the RV when she squatted over a goathead plant and peed.

“Good girl,” I cooed, hurrying us both back to the RV.

This was her third migration with me. (I was on migration #4.) Lynette gave her to me in September of 2018, the year we headed south via the North Rim of the Grand Canyon to celebrate my 50th birthday. This year I did exactly what I’d done last year: head directly south toward Truth or Consequences. Only…this year I’d go a little past T or C. My job with the nursery started up with “tree season” mid-November in Las Cruces.

* * *

Back inside, I opened the computer on top of the little desk and pushed the start key. I stepped over to the stove to pour cup of warm tea before sitting down at the computer and setting to work on my manuscript.

As I began working, Buena paced the floor, watching me.

“Here,” I said, getting up and unfolding a Mexican blanket on the couch. I pointed. “Sit up here.”

Her graceful hop was a fluid movement.

“Wait there,” I instructed and unzipped the ukulele case. Pulling it out, I determined to play a few songs to quiet her restlessness.

And to quiet my own.

When I finished playing, Buena lay asleep beside me.

At quarter to nine and with only half-a-cup of tea left in my mug, I looked around the RV, satisfied with the work I’d had done inside the RV this summer. I asked the mechanic-carpenter for “room to dance” within the living room area of the old 1988 Class C RV. The interior redesign was part of a larger concern as the wall of the RV had pulled away from the floor. Now, with everything securely attached, I had new plywood flooring and a streamlined kitchen with built-in spice rack. The two wobbly chairs had also been removed, and in their place I set my large blue exercise ball, which I used as a chair at the small hide-away computer table. Not only could I store it above the cab when I wanted to dance or needed the space, but the plan was to use it while doing schoolwork all winter, thereby working my core muscles and keeping my posture strong. (After 50, this kind of stuff is supposed to be important.)

I ain’t got much, but at least I’ve got my health.

Thank you, Jesus!

For now, I just had to stay ahead of the storm bearing down from the north and get south of Albuquerque. All the weather maps seemed to indicate the winter storm would stay north of Interstate 40.

Time to get moving!