White fog hung down low hugging the river valley reaching upwards towards the mountaintops.Vast deep china blue sky cradled the new autumn colors peeping from the giant hardwoods. Cool wind licked my bare ankles walking across the church parking lot.Deep breaths of fresh air swelled my lungs as I headed for the heavy glass double doors and the slick stainless steel handle. I walked in the door to the white Formica counter.   “Sign in please, here’s the notebook”  An elderly balding man speaks from behind a monitor. He slides a clip board my way. The tiny beaded chrome chain holding the pen dances in tinkling spasms.  “I recognize you. You’ve been here before..??  I nod and head for one of the hard plastic molded chairs.    

Swooshing sounds as the door closes and a hunched man limps in. The green cloth billed cap has a dark sweat stain peaking over the bright yellow letters spelling out John Deere Tractors. One twisted foot gives him some obvious grief as he holds the arm of his plump short battered wife. Both faces show a life time of equal parts sun wrinkles and hard work. Both share deep sunken eye pits with a glinted set of dark brown eyes. The wife helps him to a identical molded plastic chair as the one already bringing a sharp ache to my lower back. He sits down heavily and she signs the page below my name.    

Two over weight twenty something women come in, five tots all featuring saggy diapers and plump bodies. One makes a grab at the others blue plastic truck. Screams echo in the white walled church reception area. I try not to stare at the broken teeth of the women grabbing up tots and sticking them into more chairs. I keep trying to cover my own with my lips...  

 I glance down at my wrist and decide it’s going to be at least thirty minutes before the food boxes are ready. My back is screaming and I can’t keep sitting. I head down the hall into the clothing store. I can at least look at the clothing and scattered household items.   A black marker scrawl says Bag sale. $1.00 buys a Ingle’s grocery store bag full.  I don’t have any dollars.....    

I walk in anyway. I had never went into the clothing store.  It’s a madhouse. Too many circular racks hold too many winter clothes. The large room is jammed tight with too many shoppers. Snot nosed children whine unseen. Large bodied woman and a few men peruse the clothing, jerking warm winter clothing off the thin wire hangers and stuffing them into the bags held together with heavy purses and diaper bags. They keep their eyes all looking down at the clothing.. All the white and pink mottled flesh speaks of a diet full of starches and grease soaked protein. I gag and decide some fresh air will do the trick.

I head back up the hall and straight through the double doors again. There is one stand of beauty by the pavement’s edge. A large tall stand of bright yellow sunflowers reaching upwards bobbing heads from the breeze. Two elderly women grunt climbing from the faded plastic seats of a still oily smelling smokey Ford sedan beside the flowers. One grabs a broken straw hat to cover her hair. The wind caught it anyway and the stiff hair-sprayed curls moved faintly. She tied the dirty white cord tight and gave out a sigh...  The other woman grabbed a walker from the open trunk and wheeled into the church. The wafting smell of heavy perfume and old clothes did little to ease my now upset stomach and tortured lower back...

 Bye bye, American Pie.. The dreams all died..