So all of my flights went really well. I made all my connections with no problem, didn't have to sit next to anyone frustrating, and got to enjoy some wonderful views out the window right next to me. Praise God. We landed at LAX and disembarked the plane about 11 PM. I grabbed my bags and shuffled through the masses in the terminal and waiting area to the monitors and light-up info boards in the lobby to check for information on the bus to the Metro rail line, but to no avail. So I made my way through the four lanes of traffic and stood on the curb where I noticed a number of other busses making stops and noticed above me a bunch of different listingd for which busses stopped where and their frequency. So I made my way over all of ten feet to the proper location and proceeded to wait for about 20 mins. until the proper bus came. I hopped aboard the free shutle and rode about 10-15 mins. to the rail line. I stmbled around there trying to find the ticket machine and casually looked over the poster displaying which trains went where. I found the ones i was suppossed to be on, noted the names of the stops headed up the stairs to wait about another ten or fifteen minutes for the train to come. So I board my first train at about 12:00 AM.
So I'm starting to relax and think I'm home free from all the waiting in sketchy areas and watching people out of the corner of my eye who appear to be sleeping, but as my mind would have me to believe, they are lying in wait for me to turn my back so that they can attempt to knock my out and take off with my sixty pounds of cumbersome luggage filled with things of no real cash value. I reach my transfer point to take my second and final leg of the trip home rejoicing in the fact that God has provided me with a way to get to and from the airport for a total of $2.50. I was bound and determined to not pay "the man" an obscene amount of money just to park my car somewhere to have a guaranteed way home barring some mechanical failure. And I had succeeded...or so I thought.
I find a bench on the platform and take a seat expecting to not have to wait for more than twenty minutes. As always I start to take note of my surroundings to determine who nearby might advance upon me and become the unsuspecting victim of a devastating judy-chop. There are a couple people on the opposite side waiting on the train to Long Beach and a young black guy at the far end of the downtown Los Angeles side where I am. After about ten minutes or so a guy who I'm guessing was homeless came up to me asking if I could spare something so he could get an all day ticket. I willingly parted with my only cash dollar, after all, it's only a buck, and I don't need it for anything, I'm set. A few minutes later the Long Beach train came and went. "Only a few minutes now till short of about a half mile walk from the station to the hotel, I'll be out of this late night chill and safe at home. After about another fifteen minutes I notice the young guy at the other end of the platform get up and go to the radio box whereIi guess you can contact the central station and collect information. I heard him ask if there were any more trains to downtown tonight. I couldn't make out the ladies response but it didn't seem promising since he left the platform and went to sit at the little bus stop across the street.
A few more people arrived and joind the few stragglers on the Long Beach side as I began to ponder the length of time it could take for the train to go probably fifteen miles and loop back the opposite direction. Suddenly I heard the distinct moan of a cat in heat followed by the sound of two cats in a scuffle. I turned around to witness the action but saw nothing, until I notices an average looking middle-aged bald man leaning against a post with a little smirk on his face. He gave a smile and a little wave as I nodded impressed with his talent and turned back to wait for my ride. Then there it was again, the cat crooning. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice me. But this character was determined to get my attention again. After a few unsuccessful attemps he walks over to a few feet from where I'm sitting and gives a meow with a wave and a coy smile. As I smile and wave back politely as I come to the conclusion in my mind, "This guy seems to be under the impression that he has created a new language that only the two of us can understand. He better not try to nuzzle my leg," . He gives a shorter meow and held out a half extended hand that I gathered in Cataneese translates, "Alms for the poor,". I shook my head with almost regretful that I gave my last dollar away to a guy with less of a show, but who obviously needed it more than Kitty McGee here. WHERE WAS MY DAD-GUM TRAIN?!?!?!
Strating to get frustrated and a little freaked out by your friendly neighborhood Catman, I begin to mull over the possibility that my steel steed to greenerpastures may have retired to the stables for the evening. A glance at my closely shielded phone reveals the painful sight- 1:30 AM 5/13. I have been at this stop for over an hour for a train that from my best recoloection of the online schedule runs about every fifteen minutes. For my life I could not remember when that page said that the last run was, and I was unable to access the website from my phone. A quick google search reavealed an article from when the line first came about back in the 90's, stating that the last run of the blue line to downtown L.A. was 11:45PM. "But there's no way that still applied today," I tried to convince myself, supported by the whole green push and my presumed popularity of the Southern California rail line. But my worst fears were confirmed as a couple of Latin gentlemen in suits curiosity got the best of them. After being asked if I was waiting for the train to downtown, and casually revealing their presumption to be on point, they politely enlightened me that the train had stop running for the night, but a that I could catch the bus to downtown just over there. As I gathered my belongings the train for Long Beach arrived a second time. I wanted to spit. How the same train could come down the same track to the same destination, without coming back up the opposite way to loop around was beyond me.
So I made my way over to the bus stop where I was offered a cab to anywhere in town for the low, low cost of $30. No thanks. The cabby then tried to sweeten the deal by telling me the young man on the bench, whom I had noticed earlier and appeared to be in the same boat as myself, could split the cost cause he was going down town too. We looked at each other with a common understanding that even $15 for a cab ride roughly 10 miles was just ridiculous. So me and the young man, who's name I never actually got, started up a little small talk. He told me that he had a late night at a computer lab off campus and that this wasn't the first time he had to play this waiting game. I told him about coming out here from SC and it all being new to me and my aspirations of acting. As we moved to career talk, he opened up a little about living in South L.A. all his life and quitting school then going back recently with hopes of becoming a doctor.
Around 2 A.M. the bus finally showed up. Much to my shegrin they didn't take rail passes and I had no cash. As I hopped off the bus to let the other five people get on, my new found companion entered last and without even telling me, paid whatever the cost was for me to ride. God had provided a way yet again. He never ceases to amaze me. I couldn't thank the young man enough as I made my way to the back of the bus, where we shortly learned that the three girls who got on at the stop were just released from a two week stint in the county jail and were wearing the wristbands to prove it. I listened intently as the electronic bus voice began to name all of the stops. I sat in awe as I realized the area I had been in and we were now driving through...Compton! The land of mythical legend referred to so frequently in the popular gangster rap of the early 1990's. A district where gang warfare tops list year in and year out cause bangers have a reputation they are more than willing to uphold and promote. As we reached downtown I decided to disembark with the 3 girls and the guy from the stop, as he convinced the ladies he knew of a late night gas-station they could buy the cigarettes they had been aching for. The conversation on the way walk there flowed from how one of the girls had just given birth two days before this last arrest for possesion of an illegal substance, to how one of the other girls had been living the high life and had a father who had the means to wire her the money to by a car that day after the dealerships opened. I was relieved seeing the high-rises in the distance all lit up like a beacon pointing me home. I split from the safety of the pack when i saw a street name I was familiar with and was well lit. It led me past the Staples Center where the Lakers play, a few fancy restaurants, and spit me out in the heart of the banking district across from the station I had originally planned to arrive at. I marched the last of the two miles from where we left the bus (I know it's two miles cause I drove it later) with a burden lifted off of me because the end was in sight. At about 3:30 A.M. I stumbled into my room falling to rest in the faithfulness of God with a new understanding of how He truly goes before us and prepares a way, how He shields his children in protection from the world around us, and how utterly reliable He is. Thank you, Lord.
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