I was on the famous Route 66, although it's real notoriety wouldn't come till later. I had abandoned the safety of the boxcar, in hope of reaching my destination of Palo Alto, Calif quicker. I was somewhere deep in New Mexico, surrounded by scorching dry winds, and bill boards proclaiming incredible snake farms, and breath taking tourist exhibits.
I was literally on that lost highway. I also was in a potentially dangerous part of New Mexico.
My first hint of this came when a carload of locals came speeding down the road at me. At first, I thought they were going to stop...then suddenly I saw empty quart bottles of beer come flying out of the car. One of the bottles came so close to my head, I felt the breeze of it going by. Then I heard the laughter, as they kept going. I don't know if this was a game the locals play with long haired hippie types on their turf, but it happened more than once. It caused me to develop my own style of hitch hiking. I would raise my left hand as if I were scratching my forehead, creating kind of a face guard with my arm. Actually, it became my biggest fear, and night time the fear rose by a hundred. It easily could have caused death, or great physical damage.
Once a carload stopped. They told me to jump in, which I reluctantly did. We didn't even drive a quarter mile, when they asked me for money for gas. When I told them I was broke, they immediately stopped the car and pushed me out. I was regretting leaving the boxcar, when the guy in a suit stopped. I quickly scanned him. Sometimes you have but a split second,when you're on the road, to make your decision. My first gut feeling was that it was safe. I slid into the front seat, immediately noticing a rather large hump, covered by his suit coat, sitting between us. It seemed harmless, but also was something which seemed out of place. I was young...21, not familiar with the many different kinds of personalities that live in this world. He said he was going to Arizona. That was perfect. Too perfect..
There's the old saying " The eyes are the window to the soul." Perhaps that's part of what caused this uneasy feeling I had in my gut. Everything about him seemed normal. He laughed, and smiled. He seemed cordial...nothing seemed too out of place...except his eyes. He would look over...smiling, but his eyes didn't seem to fit with his other facial expressions. They were a dark brown, but they also seemed lifeless, almost predatory, like a shark.They made me uncomfortable.
There are all kinds of dangerous people in this world, most you can identify by the way they talk,walk,look at you. But, there's another kind of person out there...one that is extremely dangerous, and almost impossible to pick out. He is the amoral person. He/she is pure evil. At 21, even at 61, they stalk their prey, without being noticed. They are friendly, outgoing, very deceptive, and can easily fool you into a trap.
They are the Ted Bundy's, and John Wayne Gacy's. They cannot be spotted, until it's too late. About a half hour into our small talk, he asked if I wanted something to read. I didn't, but I didn't want to listen to him, anymore. Something just didn't feel right. He lifted his suit coat, and revealed a stack of very explicit homosexual magazines. Looking back, maybe he was just a homosexual looking for some action. I told him I wasn't interested in looking at men magazines. He tried to persuade me to just leaf through one, and implied I might change my mind. I said no, and began to get that gut feeling. Physically, I wasn't fearful. I knew I could over power him hand to hand. He was in his 40's, and not really an imposing figure. I stared out the window, trying to figure out what to do, I couldn't erase the hollowness of his eyes. If he was going to take no as an answer, Arizona was a huge ride. I thought about just asking him to stop and let me off, in the middle of no where. He made fun of my refusal to just look at a book. He told me not to worry, that if I wasn't into it he wouldn't force it. He was very casual about it. I had this feeling there was more to him than what he was showing. I began to feel afraid. You can never explain these feelings. You just get them, and they won't go away.
On Rt 66, you can drive a long way between filling stations. That was what I wanted. Something inside told me I needed to get away from this man. I felt this creepy feeling begin to cover me. Like a miracle, I heard him say,
" I need gas, let's stop at this one", nodding his head to a sign that said gas, two miles.
I was never so happy to open a car door and get out. When it came time to leave, I told him I was going to just hang out there for awhile, and hopefully find a freight somewhere nearby. He tried everything to get me back in the car, even offering to pay for a separate motel room for me later in the evening. But, my gut feeling warned me to get away from this man at all costs. I've always felt this guy was a killer. In my time on the streets, I have met a few people who gave me that same overwhelming signal of danger. Amoral people are predators. They can hide their evil. They have no conscious. They kill simply for thrill. I would give anything to know if my gut feeling was right, or did I overreact. I have relied on that feeling many times, and most times that innate instinct has proven right. I watched as he drove away. I was willing to give up a once in a life time ride, based on what we call gut instinct. I say, if something seems out of place, if something inside you makes you feel uneasy. Follow it...always. I ended up catching another ride from a guy who had his son with him. He told me he lived about 40 miles up the road, and when I told him I was looking for a train depot, he said there was a small train station in his town. I felt as if a prayer had been answered. When we got to where he had to turn, he reached in his pocket and handed me a five dollar bill.
I forgot about the fear I had on the previous ride, and could only think of what cool people there are in this world. It's just knowing which is which. I found the train station, and there was one lone train idling, and pointing west. I found me an open door, and felt safe. I had cigarettes, and candy bars, thanks to the kind man with his son. To this day, I really believe my gut feeling may have saved my life. I'll never know. You never know.
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