MEMOIR OF A DREAMER

Here I am crouched in the back seat of a car, bundled in layers of clothes to stay warm. Parked on the side of Angeles Crest, it’s not a Motel or holiday Inn, but the beautiful scenic view gives me hope. Each time I exhale the warmth from my body escapes, cutting the atmosphere like a hot knife through butter. While every muscle in my body yearns to be stretched, the moist dew settles on the window thick as snow. I’m cold and stiff, but the sun is peeking around the shield I made from a worn-out shirt. Last night’s dream was so vivid I felt alive, but the invisible cloak returns-like a figurine lost in the depths of a toy chest, or a mere whisper echoing through a canyon. Yet my gratitude remains strong, after all, it’s better in the backseat than on the pavement.

In a perfect world everything goes as planned, but I’m light years away from that dimension. So, my homelessness is the short end of the stick. Things weren’t always like this, but disquieting events led to a foreign journey that started just like any other day. I woke up, meditated, hit the gym then showered. As I wrapped the towel around my torso, my phone flashes a missed call. It’s my mother, so I returned the call.

“Good morning, Ma, I saw that you called, is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you about your sister.”

“Ok what’s up?”

“You know she’s still living in your grandpa’s house.”

“Yeah”

“Well, she has been paying all the bills and needs some help just until we sale the house.”

“Ok.”

“I wanted to see if you could help her.”

“I would, but you know I don’t get paid that much, how can I help her and still pay my own bills at the same time.”

Now she’s on the phone pleading for me to take over my grandfather’s property. I thought about it with real consideration, only because my relationship with my sister is not very stable. This conversation took place because my grandfather passed away a month prior, leaving behind a closet full of suits and tremendous debt. Even so, here I am, shoving the pain aside to pack up the residue of yesterday, while coping with the death of my best friend.

Nevertheless, I moved my suitcases in the front room while going over the benefits of the move. The pro was not having to pay rent, but the con was sharing a space with my sister. We’re like night and day, ying and yang, but I’m setting my pride aside for my mother.

A different journey crossed my path, as I plan how much money needs to be saved. Although I’m in a good position, staying focus is hard, especially when family is fighting over a dead man’s possessions. But the goal is to get things in order while waiting for a buyer, so while negotiations began and end, I started writing a book.

As I anticipate the next phase of my life, a new couple found interest in my grandfather’s property. Despite me being overjoyed, the news is bittersweet, leaving my mind congested with memories. When it comes to the few weeks left to tie up loose ends, like seasons the rain started again. My cars life span was ending, and to make matters worse it began to flood. The vehicle I recently repaired gave up on me. I’m thinking, “What am I going to do,” as I pull over towards the curb to park. I’m worried, yet I keep telling myself to be strong. So, it was chest out and chin up, to brace myself for another round.

Being the optimistic isn’t always easy, but I woke up excited to pick up my car. Haplessly, the bad weather kept coming, and before I could get off the lot, the hood had to be lifted again. As bad as I want to blame the mechanic, the truth is I rode the car until it couldn’t take no more-literally. Now I understand why people say never ask, “What else could go wrong.” Because something else always does, and now I’m stranded on the side of the road. The two weeks I requested off isn’t enough, and I’m not sure if my boss would give me additional time off. But to my surprise, I was granted a month to fix the situation.

Now I’m sitting in the dealership with tears in my eyes, still shocked from the rejection. The words written in bold black letters turn my stomach tight, while I read the list of requirements. A co-signer was needed, which wasn’t so bad, but when the dealer asked for proof of income. My heart skipped a beat, I hadn’t worked in three weeks, now my temples caved in thinking about the deadline.

But the next two days proved It is an angel by my side, working as a secret agent on my behalf. Family and friends came through, and now I was ready to get out of my funk. As I entered the lot full of aspiration, the inevitable occurred. The salesman asked the daunting question.

“Ok, where is your place of employment?”

“No ordinary moments.”

“Good, how long have you worked there?”

“About three years.”

“Perfect… do you have your paystubs?”

With unknown forces pulling on every end, the situation became a coda sack of lost hope. The computer read in capital letters, “No access,” and my cellphone flashed and identical message. This inconvenience made me feel invisible again, as if I was fading into the background. But like Maya Angelou, “I still rise,” and so I did just that. With one foot in front of the other I kept going, even though my job had to let me go. Everything was drying up around me, no job, car, or money, and to think I had a master plan. Now I feel like Dorothy skipping down a yellow road never traveled.

With only two weeks left, I wake up positive, even without a sign of things improving. With a little delusion and courage, I’m certain the universe will recognize my efforts. Just as I hoped for, the magician pulled a rabbit out of a top hat, and I managed to buy a car just a week before moving out.

That’s how I ended up living on the side of the mountain, crouched in the back seat of the car, bundled in layers of clothes to stay warm. But my story doesn’t stop here, so I keep moving forward. I must see the gold at the end of the rainbow, so I wake up, meditate, hit the gym. Only showering isn’t an option, it’s my only choice since I have nowhere else to go. Even so, I folded my clothes in the trunk so no one would know I was homeless, then eat breakfast and start my shift.

This went on for a year, day in and day out, the same routine, hanging on to what could be. The future is fuzzy like a television without cable, a refractive error without glasses, or swimming without goggles. Every day I wake up and it feels like it’s my last day of being alive, nowhere to go or anyone to talk to, just my sons support and a prayer.

I’m living proof that Grit helps us get to the other side. Just as the phoenix was birthed from fire, I carry my soot like a badge of honor.

Lakeshia Luckey is an aspiring author currently pursuing her Bachelor's degree at Full Sail University. With a deep passion for storytelling and a heart rooted in inspiration, Lakeshia has already taken her first bold step into the literary world with her published book, A Sky Called Blue, available on Amazon. She writes with purpose and hope, aiming to uplift and connect with readers through every word. Her journey is just beginning, and her dream is clear—to become a recognized voice in literature and inspire others to chase their own stories.