She passed out behind the fire station after snorting a can of Black Flag. She'd still be there, producing interesting aromas, except a volunteer stepped outside to take a piss and heard the weird sounds she was making. He inhaled a lot of Black Flag doing CPR. They got her to the hospital in forty minutes. She was back on the street in a couple of days.
She got out on the freeway and tried to hitch hike south but ended up going north with a triple trailer full of groceries. The driver talked about god for two hours straight.
She got sick out in the sage brush somewhere. She was riding with a waitress going home from work, but when she started barfing the waitress stopped and pushed her out of the car and drove away yelling ``take care of yourself,'' into the night.
In the morning a pick-up stopped down the road then backed up. An old man got out and walked toward her.
``Can you help me find my horses?''
``Find your horses?''
``Find my horses. They broke out last night and I think they followed the creek down a couple miles.''
``Sure, I'll help you find your horses.''
She got in the truck and they drove a few miles then turned down a dirt road.
``I think they must be down there along the creek,'' the old man said,'you go along down this side and I'll follow you up. They won't have crossed the creek I doubt.''
She started walking through the brush along the creek. She saw no horses or anything except blackberry and willow and filbert. Then she broke into a clearing and there they were. Three rough looking horses watching her as distrustfully as she watched them.
``Hey mister,'' she yelled,'I think I found your horses.'' She did not move. Neither did the horses.
``So, hey, you horses,'' she said, ``so what's it like being a horse?''
They did not answer. The old man came up behind her rattling some oats in a three pound coffee can. The one eyed buckskin approached first and the others followed.
He tied the horses to the back of the truck and climbed in and started the engine. The horses were snubbed to the tail gate. They did everything but break loose.
``They'll get used to it,'' the old man said.
``If I had a trailer I'd do it different, but that ain't an option.''
He offered to fix her lunch. ``You don't look like you get enough to eat.'' he said.
They drove slowly with the horses staggering and struggling behind them. Every time a hoof hit the tail gate the old man would curse.
His house was an unfinished cabin in a blackberry strewn field. There was no driveway. Inside was a sleeping platform and a broken chair. Buckets hung from the rafters, holding clothes, tools and Wheaties.
The man brought her a bowl of Wheaties and poured water from a bucket over the cereal.
``This is what you eat?''
``That and other stuff - oh, a can of beans once in a while ...''
``You shouldn't live like this -'' she said.
``Is how you live any better?'' he asked.
``Yeah, it is. Well - maybe it is...''
``You want to stay with me?'' he asked.
``No way.'' she answered.
The one eyed buckskin was standing at the door.
``Get away, Angel. You sleep outside tonight.''
``No way!'' she said louder.
``Its a good life,'' he said.
``We go weeks in the mountains me and my horses. Ain't no one bothers us.''
``No way,'' she said.
``Well go then.'' the old man said.
She went.