Listen to those voices in your head

Since the quarter started last week, I have managed to walk a mile up the hill to school every day. It's a nice walk. It's not a bad hill. The elevation gain is a little under 300 feet (according to my trusty gps unit and the satellites o'erhead). Near the top of the hill, there is an S-curve that is not-so-safe for us pedestrians. I'll never quite understand how a sidewalk can blink in and out of existence along a stretch of road but that is exactly what happens along this S-curve.

Rather than play chicken with some non-caffeinated commuter who momentarily forgets that the brake pedal is their friend, I more often than not avoid the whole situation by veering left before the S-curve and taking an alternate street up the hill that lacks any curves whatsoever. Alas, it still has the not-so-gentle rise that I feel in the backs of my calves. It also adds about 3-5 minutes to the walk because it is not quite as direct a route. That three or five minutes mean a lot when the book-on-pod is a good one.

For some reason, this morning, I was debating whether to hoof it through the S-curve or trip on down the longer-yet-safer side road. For the life of me I have no idea why I was even debating this. The book-on-pod has gotten really good after starting slow (got that, Papa Ra?) and it wasn't raining and I was on time. No reason to shave the 3 minutes off my hike and stare down drivers coming at me through the S. This is when the voices in my head got really, really, really loud.

WHY ARE YOU HESITATING TURN LEFT NOW NOW NOW NOW

It was the proverbial hammer to the (inside) back of the head. If someone was watching me at this moment when the voices chimed in, they would have seen me do some sort of bizarre moonwalker spin-o-lurch to the left. It wasn't pretty but it quieted the voices. I put it out of my mind because the human race is suffering from the manifestation of some strange retro-virus buried in our DNA that is resulting in a leap in evolution rather than a gradual change and riots are breaking out in China ... oh ... that was happening in the book, Darwin's Radio. Did I mention that it has gotten much better since the author, Greg Bear, got past the trite character development and got on with the sci in the fi (are you listening, Papa Ra?) Anyway, I put the left turn lurch out of my mind and kept walking.

That's when the gang came out of the mist. They looked familiar so no introductions were necessary. Some of them in better shape than others, some of them looking a little worn, some sporting a new color scheme, some in the old-school monotone, all sporting their serial numbers and looking mighty damp from being out in the rain for who knows how long. We continued up the hill together. They hung out in my office while I went about my school doodies ... er ... duties.

After school, the voices chimed in again and this time I needed no hammer. Never ever not even once before have I walked down the hill via the non-S side street but I did today. And sure enough, more of the gang members were at the bottom of the hill, looking really damp and lonely and wondering where their compadres had gone off to. Needless to say, we all continued down the hill together.

When we got to my house, I invited the gang in and offered them the chance to rinse off the grime from being out in the rain. I tucked them in to help them dry out a little while I ate dinner. Then I ironed them all to dry them out the rest of the way.

The gang totals $469, all denominations from $1 to $100. I have no idea what I am going to do with them. I'm a little wigged out and wondering if cameras were rolling or if someone is not going to be able to make their rent or buy their kid new shoes or doesn't even miss the boys since they flew out of the pocket of their leather coat as they sped down the hill in their Rolls Royce. Were the boys kidnapped and then accidently dropped as their captors fled? What were they doing hanging out on that corner, pretty spread out and mixed in amongst the debris of the wind and rain?

I have no idea what I am going to do with them. They are warm and dry and tucked away in a safe spot. And I will listen to the voices in my head the next time they make a suggestion.