Hey Joe (Part 2)

The next morning Elmer and I approached the church. It was still dark.

Would Cody the guitar man be there?

My opinion before venturing out? Ninety-nine percent no way. But there was always that long shot of finding that one in the 99.

And that's why I stashed four bucks in my pocket.

Cody was there, holding the guitar. He wore a Western shirt. His phone was charging.

“Good morning,” I said with considerable enthusiasm. “You remember me from yesterday? I've got some cash if you want to play me something.”

“I remember you,” he said.

Cody came out from under the rhododendron with the guitar and sat on a bench. I fished out the dollar bills and handed them over. He said thanks. I sat down on a bench facing him. Elmer sat down on the sidewalk.

“You know, you don't have to pay me,” he said.

“I always pay buskers and right now you are busking for me.”

“Okay. I'm working on a new song.”

He began strumming. The progression sounded unfamiliar at first, then something possibly recognizable.

“I'm going to try and sing along,” said Cody. He strummed a bit longer and then started singing. It was a weak voice, with definite rough edges.

He stopped singing in 20 seconds after butchering a line.

“What's the song?” I said.

“North Country Girl.”

“Yeah, by Bob Dylan.”

“Johnny Cash sang it, too. They sang together.”

“The album is Nashville Skyline.”

It was time to go there. This morning felt right. I'd just heard Dylan. Maybe Bob made me go there.

Five minutes later I'd learned:

Cody lived by himself 300 yards away in a wooded area along a creek. Not too long ago, he'd moved to Portland from Klamath Falls where he was building a home. He had two young daughters in Portland who lived with their mother. One of his daughters told him if he didn't come to the big city and be her in life, she was never talking to him again.

So here he was, homeless, looking for a job every day. He wanted to work as a mechanic. He was good with cars. Yes, he cold probably hold the job living outdoors near a creek. He preferred living outdoors.

I knew where Cody lived. Jacob from the Old Crow Book Club had told me he'd spent a few nights there before establishing his own camp. I mentioned knowing Jacob. Cody acknowledged he and Jacob were friends.

“Hey, are you the guy that wrote that book?” said Cody. “I just found it in a food pantry.”

“Yeah, I'm the guy. I put the book in the pantry.” (Along with cans of lima beans and mandarin oranges.)

It was the same pantry on church property that stood 20 yards from where we now conversed.

“I'm reading the book now, “ said Cody. “I like it a lot.”

“Thanks for reading it. Pass it along.”

I could see light rising in the eastern sky. It was time to go.

Elmer and I stood up.

“I've got a request if you're here tomorrow,” I said. “Something by the Stones.”

“Oh, I know one of their songs,” said Cody and he began playing it but not singing.

I instantly took over vocals and belted it out as Elmer and I headed for the park. Cody kept right on playing.

Under my thumb
The girl who once had me down
Under my thumb
The girl who once pushed me around

It's down to me
The difference in the clothes she wears
Down to me, the change has come
She's under my thumb

And ain't it the truth babe?