The village was quiet when I drove up. I parked at the entrance, and rang the bell. In the distance, I could see the remnants of the shopping center in the sunset, the buildings in varying stages of repair.
Through the fence, I could see a young man come out of an Airstream, parked not far away. “Hello”, I said, as he approached me on the other side of the gate. “I wonder if you might have a space for us tonight? It’s just the wife and I”. He squinted, and Julie smiled through the window of our Volkswagon Vanagon. “We’re trying to stay close to town, in case her time comes.”
It’s become harder to find a place to stay since the earthquake, but I don’t know how we would have survived before when every year there were such large fires. More and more of our friends have taken to the road, and are living in these parking-lot villages.
“You’re lucky’, the young man said. One of our tenants left yesterday to head east, and we haven’t filled his space yet. But we expect to in a couple of days, so it has to be temporary”.
“We’re used to that.”, I said. “Aren’t we all” came the reply as he swung open the gate.
Once inside, the young man led us to a parking space. We passed rows of cars and RVs, and here and there were tents in the spaces. “The bathroom, shower, and laundry room are over attached to the community room. Village rules are on the bulletin board. The passcode to the door is PEACEFUL”.
“Thanks”, I said, as I saw him walk into the cold night.