My failed attempt at going “Home”

Tofino, British Columbia

The following few days, I worked at the restaurant I had spent the previous summer employed by. Refreshing my memory, getting caught up on the lives of my friends. The town had a few small changes, mostly with parking regulations. Just enough to remind me I had been away for several months. But the feeling of security, welcome and laid back friendliness hadn’t changed a bit. Locals nights at the pizza place, small town karaoke, beach fires with guitars and spike-ball.

By the end of my second shift however, my neighbor/co-worker had some complaints about Valentinas placement. But moreover, the fact no one had told her someone would be parking on the pad adjacent to hers seemed to bother her. She repeated how much it would have been nice to have gotten a heads up, even after my employer and I both apologised for the oversight.
I did agree with her on the placement being uncomfortable, and agreed to contact the campground manager to ask about different arrangements.
While the email was being written, she expressed her concerns and complaints again.

then again.

and in a slightly different tone, with slightly different words,

again.

Finally, our boss snapped at her, and she got the message. clamming up and heading out for home. I hung back asking about the next steps in the parking arrangement.
”Well, your rent may go up, or you’ll get your own pad and lease agreement. Or, I’ll lose the spot entierly then you and the other tenant in the trailer will be evicted.”
despite standing on concrete floors, I felt a lurch as though it had become thin ice. Unsettled so shortly after returning to the place I considered a home, I could lose it all.

She sat outside the trailer, waiting for me. Apologizing for me having seen the conversation at work. “Considering it’s about my living situation, shouldn’t I be involved?” She began repeating the same frusterations and points she’d expressed clearly at the restaurant maybe a half hour prior. Re-pointing out, in person, the situation I was already too uncomfortably aware of.

Having made her points, she left, then returned on her way to the showers in order to repeat herself once more, to make sure I really got the message. Wearing only a towel, filling the doorway to my van her hands creeping along the edges. feeling backed into a corner figuratively and literally, I got snippy, ending the conversation and finally getting her to end the loop of “I’m just saying-”

We ended the conversation with the agreement of letting it be, and forgetting it happened in order to enjoy ourselves while we went out with our friends. We chatted freely on the bike ride into town, met our friends, had a meal and drinks then closed the karaoke down in the Dirty Mac. It was a fun night out.

The following day, our boss surveyed the situation in person, scanning the lot and discussing where the next best placement for me would be. We settled on a few options that seemed the most promising then parted ways.

The bonfire was cradled in an iron ring, surrounded by new and familiar faces. Jokes in multiple languages into a microphone, games in the sand, beers on logs and benches. I stayed until later than I had ment to. Guitars and banjos were summoned up from the darkness, sorrowful, eerily beautiful tunes shortly followed.

”You have a voice for falling in love with.” I told the player behind me. A broken, soulful, aching voice. Blackbirds and long wooden hallways in auttumn. I could have sat at her feet, listening to that voice, falling in love with it all night without ever seeing her face.

half an hour into my shift the following morning, my employer gave me “some bad news” as he called it. My co-worker had complained to the campground manager, saying I had threatened her, and other campers with violence. She didn’t feel safe coming to work with me any more. I had until the end of the day to move out. I’d get my pay by the end of the day.

”But what did I do?” I felt myself asking. the vauge reply came from a distance as I punched out my time, gathered my bag, and left.

“Oh what up?” one of the servers grinned at me from her bicycle, surprised to see me at the bike rack.
”I just got fired. and I’m banned from the campground.”
”What the fuck?
I don’t know how to take this. Clearly, you don’t either.”
She gave me a hug and a few more words of kindness then we parted ways. Her, to the workplace we’d both shared until five minutes prior. Me, shocked and shamefaced, turned my bike around.

Facing a parade.
Or perhaps a rights march. Banners with black, red and white artworks and long names written on them flapped in the breeze of the slowly moving enterage. I rode, facing the dozens of vheicles, wanting nothing more than to crawl into some deep hole and be forgotten for several hundred years with my cat. Once home to Valentina, it took a matter of calming down enough to be able to drive, then I manuvered her into the back lot of one of the several hotels in Tofino.

*I don’t recommend doing this, however I have also never really seen a tow truck called to any of the hotels in Tofino…..

My day after that was spent sitting on the beach with Odysseus, trying to find reason. We’d gone to the bar after we’d agreed to leave the topic be. She hadn’t spoken to me once in the two days between the conversation and my getting fired. I felt confused and as though I had been wrongfully let go. No chance to speak on my own defense was given. I was simply dropped.

I sat in my van, facing the unknown once more, re-applying for jobs.
For the weekend though, I’m going to slip away to the forest.

Time to Write.

Time to Read.

Space to Think.

I have no idea what is happening in my life, or what is going to happen. I feel ashamed and low for having been fired. Confused. Scared. But, no time to dwell on the past. It’s simply a very, very rough shove forward to the next unknown.