Page 125 - Exile-ebook

124 AN EXILE OF THE MIND
A BOXCAR TO PALENQUE 125
propel Lord Pacal into space, shown
on the lid of his sarcophagus about to
take off in a ‘rocket’.
Returning to our apartment in
Mexico we turned on the tap for a
cup of tea to discover pipes empty of
water and the electricity cut off. The
landlord’s mean tactic to turf us out
into the street before our ‘tenancy’
was up. This was the last straw in
digs fast deteriorating into a squat
in this fine building where cobwebs
were getting thicker and beginning
to darken the windows.
Kicking the accumulated dust
from our feet we decided to leave.
My radio and record player were
given to Rosita. And a watch as
a parting gift, to make sure her
restaurant shifts finished on time.
This left only 10 American dollars
to reach Canada over five thousand
kilometres away. I should never
have spent $200 on that guitar.
Anne’s cousin, Pam, had arrived
in Mexico and Russell and I took
her with us to New Orleans to follow
sounds of ragtime from back rooms
in the iron-laced buildings of Rue
Bourbon in the French Quarter.
I hitched alone on a Louisiana
road dodging magpies, one for
Serpent heads, Chichén Itzá.