The Pickup Truck
Mt. Scott Animal Clinic. 7:45 AM. Elmer the husky and I waited in my car 15 minutes before his neutering appointment.
I parked behind the office and took out my journal to write about what I observed right outside my window.
Across a street, 15 yards away, parked in front of a derelict trailer and ramshackle RV, was a blue pickup truck with a step bumper and crew cab. I made it out to be a king size Chevy from the mid 90s. It was in decent shape, which is rare when someone is living out of a vehicle. They typically all have this battered, sagging appearance and I see them all across Oregon.
It was dark, raining and in the low 40s.
I noticed movement inside the cab. I saw three people. One in the driver seat, a woman, another in the passenger seat, a man, another behind them in the crew cab, a man.
The driver held something up in her hands. (A blanket?) The man behind her re-positioned himself.
The windows were pretty much fogged up but I was able to partially make out the woman's face as she turned my direction. I put her in her 50s.
It was beyond my comprehension how three adults could live out of such a vehicle. If it had a canopy, maybe, but there was no canopy.
What were they talking about inside the truck on a Friday morning in January? What would they do today to survive? How does one go about one's day if it begins in the cab of an old pickup truck?
I really wanted to know and the answer was 15 yards away. All I had to do was walk up and ask.
It was time for the appointment. I led Elmer inside. A half an hour later, I walked out alone and the truck was gone.