[From
what follows there has been another interval of time since Willson made
entries
into his journal. He is now into the routine of his project working
between The Center and Coast University. And he has bought a
house of his own. These would
have taken him some time to do. Editors.]
I
have to write in my journal. When you stop for a while it is hard to
start
again. This is the only place I can do it. I need more time for these
Library
mornings. The cleaning and work on the house sees no end.
Not
much of interest in the newspapers now. Mostly election stuff.
A
woman sees an image
of Brightly appear on a pancake she made. Says this is a sign that she
must
vote for Brightly. Won’t eat the pancake so she can show it to everyone
else.
Fightin’
Bubba says
he has made no final decision on ‘human sacrifice’ yet but he thinks he
is
‘evolving’ on this issue. In ‘thinking out loud’ could it be part the
criminal
justice system? And ‘might there be’ a ‘demonstration program.’
I
am surprised to see
a photo of Innovator Man from Center
with
several of the students from Institute I
remember. The article tells about a
joint project between The Center
and Institute for a safer helmet
for Game. They
mention innovations in padding. So they liked my ideas. Center gives
extra
money awards. That would help me fix the house.
The
Jonisterie reports that they have
given
a record amount of goods to the poor of Greater this last year. I will
have
something to say.
A
Spring Desert City
event. That is tonight. Called the ‘Candidates Conference.’ Nation’s
President
candidates meet rich persons. At the Conference Center at the Compound.
I was
there before. Could go out tonight and get in. Still have the cat
costume.
The
lady that walks down the long hall carrying
the small notebook is starting to look like a large rabbit again. I am
falling
asleep. My head almost hits the table and I look back up, shaking my
head. I
started a dream. ‘Boats could pick up the cars and other junk left by
the
river. Do not think they already do that. Even if that is logical.
People do
not leave junk for boats to come pick it up. They just leave junk.’ I
wonder if
I would have thought of that anyway.
I
have to be careful I don’t do like the very
dirty man in the good suit I saw sleeping in the bushes next to the
building
outside when I came in early this morning. Get in here to a table
before I fall
asleep. On to my Journal.
***
I
started by looking at lists of houses for sale and writing down the
ones I think
I have enough money for. Most were too far away from Center or were
very small.
And I did not want to buy a room for myself in one of those buildings
in Foothill.
I want space to do stuff. The companies that sell houses soon became
tired of
me because I didn’t have enough money and so they told me maybe I could
go live
in Grid. I stopped looking so I could wait some more years to save more
money.
Then one morning I saw a note on my desk in the Wing that one of the
machinists
had left. It was about a house next to Wash and not very far from The
Center.
The machinist told me the house had belonged to an older and retired
professor
from Institute he would visit to
bring food and take to the hospital and so on. The professor’s children
had
long since moved back across The Nation to New World. The land needed
cleaning
and work and had trees and large flower plants that had grown so much
that you
could not see the house from the street at all. No Selling Company
would take
the house because of so much work and time to get it ready to sell.
The
house was just off a road that ran alongside Wash set back about ten
yards. You
really would not know it was there. You could only see trees. On the
left about
five yards from the edge of the trees was a broken down wooden fence
and on the
other side of the fence a vacant area on higher ground about 200 yards
long with
some trees and bushes. The back of the house was about ten yards from
Wash. To
the right side of the trees was a section of land almost large enough
to build
another house on. On the right edge of that was the road that went
along Wash
and turned inland at an angle to go around the house and continue in
front of the
vacant area on the left. Just where the road turned away from Wash
there are
two trees at the edge. Between the trees there is a narrow path that
goes down
into Wash.
There
are small houses set far apart all along the other side of the road.
This is where
the machinist and some others from the Wing live. So my house is there
because
of some space left where the road turns to go around the vacant area. I
explored
down the path that goes onto Wash. Just below where the house is roots
from
some of the trees and vines are exposed out the side of the wash. Now I
know where
the house is above. I also walked through the vacant land next to the
house. At
the other end is a high brick wall covered with vines at the edge of an
estate.
All along the street in front of the estate are large old trees. Behind
the
trees is a dirt path that doesn’t look like anyone walks on it much.
The path
is next to an iron fence covered with vines. You could not see the
estate from
the street either.
Everyone
involved was so happy that someone would want the professor’s house
that it did
not take me long or much trouble before I was able to buy it. I have
big plans
for living here. I will build a large building in the space next to the
house for
my workshop. It will have a large work table nobody else can put
anything on
top of. There will be a work bench all along one of the walls. I will
get some
basic machine tools. I will have enough room to park old time cars I
will work
on until they are like new. I will take out the wall in the main room
in the
house next to the building so there is a big opening right into the
work shop. I
will drive my car home into the new building and turn into my house. So
I get
out in the main room after work. But before all this I had to get the
house cleared
out enough to live in. I wonder if Pal would like this. She would like
the
location because of the space and the canyon to look across at the edge
of Wash.
I have not thought of her in a while. Maybe now because I am thinking
of a home.
I wonder if she will ever want to be home anywhere
Vines
had grown in through a window, grew on through the house, and out three
other
windows. Vines had grown down the chimney and out the fireplace and up
the
stairs to the small reading room upstairs and back up through the small
fireplace up there. And then back down the outside of the house and
into
another window and across the floor and around the rusted floor furnace
and
down through the floor and under the house and out through a screened
door in
the foundation and across the yard towards Wash. After a while I was
able to
understand the design of the house through all the plants and vines. It
was a
Sonoran style, but with larger windows. It has the traditional smaller
room on
the second story the Sonorans built so family members can have solitude
and
quiet thought. It has large windows for looking across the landscape.
This room
made a perfect place for the professor for quiet reading and thinking.
I would
say this is much the same thing.
So
I cut away vines. Cut back large flowers, trimmed trees. Dumped vines
and all
in Wash so they go back to nature. Worked on days off often all night
cutting
away vines and trees. I dug up all roots close to the house. Every
evening
after work would dig up or trim one tree or vine. This took many beers.
Especially on the days friends from work would come to help me. I
took out the rusted
floor furnace. Took the vines out from around it first. Had to get
under the
house to disconnect the furnace. Able to get under the house by pulling
off the
screen-covered door that faces the back of the house towards Wash. The
furnace
left a square hole in the floor. Covered up the hole with an extra door. Put a chair on top to hold
it in place until
I could cover the hole by building the floor back over it. Had
to get all new windows. And have to paint inside and out. My regular
pay is
soon gone on all this.
I
have much to do still but now I am able to live in it at least. I have
some big
blankets so I can sleep in the floor. It is good to have my own house.
It is peaceful
except some nights when searchlights shine by from helicopters.
Probably because
of some matters down across the wash in Grid. Other than vines and dead
leaves
the house did not have much in it. The few small pieces of furniture
left were
wrapped up in the vines so I had to throw them away. I found a few old
books on
the bookshelf. My uncle over in Cottonbaugh will be sending me a
storage box of
older furniture. The room upstairs had a small reading table and chair
I could
keep. In a drawer at the edge of the table I found an old notebook. It
has some
loose articles cut from newspapers and hand written pages. Grndee, the
professor’s
name, is written inside the front cover.
I started to read some of the notebook and found it so interesting I had to make myself stop so I could get back to work on the house. On some of the first pages he wrote about a ‘presentation to the Foothill Council of Managers.’
‘Sirs:
As you know since earliest
times our first citizens the Sonorans have celebrated the mid-Winter
return of
longer days and the coming year with a parade that once went along the
way of
the present main street of Foothill. They would decorate their carts
and farm
animals with the flowers and fruits that grow in local abundance. All
the
community would take part. There would be feasting and music. In modern
times
however they have had to drastically change the pathway and length of
this
parade. This has happened because of the unintended consequences of
traffic rules
and other laws. And so the parade now is just a small event in one
small
neighborhood. I propose that the Council revive this joyous and
important
celebration to its full former glory. Indeed you have the power and
means to
greatly expand it. It would be going beyond my abilities to suggest
how, but
some ideas might be to add logos and symbols of large national and
worldwide
corporations accompanied by local school bands that play the theme
songs from
company advertising. The Council of Managers could think of even better
suggestions. And further were the Council to tell the rest of The
basin, of
Coast, and I include the Nation and indeed the entire world - this
yearly
celebration could make Foothill famous internationally. Thank you for
your time
and attention.’
(continued
on Page 2)
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