Your Independence Level: Very High

You do things your own way. Even if everyone else thinks you're wrong. You cherish your freedom, and you resent rules. No one knows what's right for you as much as you do. You can take care of yourself... and you do a mighty fine job of it.

You Are 94% Real

There's hardly a person on this earth more real than you are. You have no problem showing people who you are, flaws and all. For you, there couldn't be any other way. Because it's way too stressful to live an inauthentic life. You're very comfortable with yourself. And because of this, you're able to live an exciting, interesting, and challenging life.

Your Mind is 44% Cluttered

Your mind is starting to get cluttered, and as a result, it's a little harder for you to keep focused. Try to let go of your pettiest worries and concerns. The worrying is worse than the actual problems!

You Are 80% Open Minded

You are so open minded that your brain may have fallen out! Well, not really. But you may be confused on where you stand. You don't have a judgmental bone in your body, and you're very accepting. You enjoy the best of every life philosophy, even if you sometimes contradict yourself.

You Are 60% Weird

You're so weird, you think you're *totally* normal. Right? But you wig out even the biggest of circus freaks!

Today I spent part of my time recalling fond memories of the nearly three years I've spent sailing the Stream. I've made many good friends, seen some leave and never return, others return and not come aboard my vessel and new friends come aboard now and then. I realize it's partly due to my choice to sometimes sail a solitary voyage. Since I first came to the Stream life's unwound itself in many ways for me. There have been sunsets I've discovered with my friends that nearly took my breath away. There've been sunrises that wouldn't have been nearly as wonderful without friends to share them with. There's been times when life erupted in a burst of tears and adversity. A few times I wondered if it was worth the effort to keep on keep'n on. Through it all I've always found a friendly port of call to put into when the seas became too stormy to safely sail. For that I am forever thankful to each of you who left a candle burning in their window, lighting the way home for me. May the tears you shed be always tears of joy and may all your dreams bring you smiles when your morning comes.

    Gino awoke with a start. He could hear the sound of a truck approaching. He peered out the crack in the barn door and realized that someone would soon arrive. He grabbed his battered suitcase and slipped out the door into the darkness. A hundred yards away he crouched behind a tree, careful to remain out of sight. A few minutes later an old farmer walked onto the porch and into the house. As soon as the lights came on Gino made his way across the field to the highway.
    The wind swept across the flat land and the cold cut through him like a knife. Gino shivered slightly as he leaned against a highway sign and lit a cigarette. After all these years Gino still had a fear of darkness. His years in prison had enforced the fear. He stared up at the sky, watching the clouds scurry across the horizon, obscuring his view of the moon. His attention was diverted as he noticed headlights rapidly approaching. A 1949 Mercury Hardtop pulled to a stop next to him and the passenger side door opened. Almost as if by instinct, Gino climbed in and sat down. He slammed the door shut and glanced over at the driver. His eyes widened as he peered at the man behind the wheel. "James Loren? Aren't you James Loren?"
    "No, my friend. My name's Vincent."
    Gino shook his head in amazement. "Damn! You look just like an old friend of mine. Hey! Thanks for stopping. How far you goin?"
    Vincent smiled slightly. "As far as you need to go, Gino."
    Gino sat ridgid in the seat, fear coursing through his veins like ice water. "How d'you come to know my name?"
    "Sorry, Gino. I didn't mean to startle ya. Me and James Loren crossed paths awhile ago and he spoke highly of you."
    The explanation seemed plausible. Gino took another drag on his cigarette as he contemplated the man's words. Vincent held out a thermos. "Pour yourself a cup of coffee if ya like."
    Gino unscrewed the lid and poured it full of hot liquid. He took a sip and smiled. "Damn! That's good! I've never tasted coffee quite like this."
    "It's a special blend," Vincent explained. "An elixer of the gods, you might say."
    They rode on in silence. Gino finished the cup of coffee and leaned back in his seat. A peaceful, easy feeling settled over him like a warm blanket. The music on the radio washed over him like a soft wind and he fell asleep. The sound of a train whistle far off in the distance startled Gino awake. He sat bolt upright in the seat and stared out the window into the darkness. There in front of him was an old train station with a boarding platform in front.
    Vincent smiled. "We've reached our destination, Gino. This is as far as I can take you." He handed Gino a crumpled piece of paper.
    Gino looked perplexed. "What's this?"
    "It's your boarding pass, my friend. A boarding pass for the Hitchcock Railway."
    Before Gino could respond, he felt himself drifting into a sea of darkness. He felt no fear. Just a sense of peace. A sense of peace he hadn't experienced in many, many years. A sleek, black locomotive pulled into view, pulling seven rail cars behind. It came to a stop next to the boarding platform and a tall, elderly conductor stepped down from the train. He smiled politely at Gino and held out his hand. "I'll need your boarding pass, sir."
    Gino stared in disbelief. "Is this what you need?"
    "It is. Please come aboard, sir. We're about to depart."
    Gino stammered nervously. “But . . . I . . uh . . . where am I going?”
    The conductor smiled slightly. “That sir, is entirely your decision.”

    One of the guys I used to work with, an Irishman by the name of Mike O'Halloran, came dragging himself into the bar late one night after a long day on the jobsite. I turned to say something to him and damn near fell off my stool. The guy looked like he'd been run over by a truck!
    "Jeez Mike! What the hell happened to you??"
    Mike winced a bit as he carefully seated himself and shook his head. "Dammit man, I had the stuffin' banged outa me!"
    "I can see that," I said with a slight smile on my face. (It's not that I'm cold-blooded, but it was unusual to see Mike all banged up like that. The man was built like a refrigerator and tougher than a boiled owl.) "Who the hell'd you get jammed up with?"
    "Danny Dunnigan," he replied.
    "Dunnigan did that to you?" I was incredulous. "He must've had somethin' in his hands."
    "Indeed he did!" Mike responded. "He had a spare hammer handle in his tool box."
    "And you had nothin' in your hands?"
    Mike hesitated and then a hint of a grin spread across his face. "Well . . . I did have somethin' in my hand. His wife's breast and I've gotta tell ya, them's some fine breasts to be sure, but not worth a shit in a fight!

I s'pose part of what makes me hard to know and even harder to understand sometimes is that I'm in a perpetual kind of evolution. It's hard to explain. Part of me is just a long-hair, country boy who's happiest when all alone deep in the mountains somewhere. But then there's a part of me that rides the ocean tides in an endless loop. And yet another part that's most comfortable somewhere deep in the guts of the city; blended comfortably into the sights and sounds of the street life. Rather than try to explain that part of me, maybe I'll just let the music do the job. Here's hope'n ya'll like the tunes and here's hope'n it all makes sense in some way. Welcome to Captain Morgan's strange grooves. Enjoy!

    “Hi. My name’s Judd and I’m an alchoholic.” Judd stood hunched slightly as a chorus or voices from around the room responded. “Welcome Judd.”
    Across the room, a man’s voice spoke. “Go ahead and tell us some about you, Judd.
    Judd fidgeted slightly. “Nothin’ much to tell,” he responded.
    Not to be deterred, the man continued. “Tough to get to know ya if you don’t communicate.”
    There was a long pause. Judd drew a deep breath and looked around the room. His eyes settled on a handsome man sitting at the front of the room leaning back in his chair, a casual smile on his face. Judd’s eyes narrowed slightly as he struggled to maintain his self-control. “I used to be married and I used to build racing engines for a living. Now I just drink booze. My wife’s dead and my dreams are dead and I’m dead. I just keep walkin’ around, but I’m sure as hell dead.”
    There was an eerie silence throughout the room as everyone sat contemplating for a moment what Judd had said. Words of encouragement bubbled up here and there as participants in the meeting added their responses to Judd’s revelations. He barely heard the comments. His attention was centered on the man at the front of the room.
    An hour passed before the group finally adjourned. Judd made his way through the crowd. He bumped into the man from the front of the room as they were walking out the door and excused himself. “Sorry ‘bout that pardner, I’m a little clumsy lately.”
    “The man smiled. “No problem. You’re Judd, the new guy, right?”
    Judd nodded. “Yup. This’s my first night here. Might be my last, I dunno.”
    “Hell, Judd. This might be the last night any of us have.”
    The comment sent a shiver down Judd’s spine. He’d relived these moments a hundred times during the solitary nights he’d spent riding on a strange train deep in the desert. It was just as Vincent had described. “I s’pose you’re right.”
    “My name’s Brett. Can I buy ya a cup of coffee for good luck?”
    “Yea, a cup of coffee’d be good just about now.” Judd and Brett shuffled down the street to Vinnie’s Diner. A barrel-chested man with a bushy beard and long hair was working behind the counter and poured them coffee as they sat down. Judd did his best to avoid the big man’s eyes as he sat quietly conversing with Brett. It was small talk mostly and the time passed quickly. Judd put his hand on Brett’s shoulder. It’s been nice gettin’ to know ya Brett. I’d say we’d do it again, but your time in this life’s come to an end.”
    Brett’s face froze, his eyes widening and his mouth was moving. No words came out. He sat stiff and upright on the stool, unable to move. Judd kept his hand in place, gripping Brett tightly as he felt a strange sensation wash over his body. Vincent leaned across the counter. “It’s time you were move’n on now, Parker. Get on out of here! It’s in my hands now.”
    Judd slid off his stool and disappeared into the night. Vincent caught Brent’s body before he fell to the floor and gently lay him down. There was no sign of life.
    A neon glow filled the sparsely furnished room. Judd lay in a tangle of blankets on the bed, the sounds of a distant train whistle filling his head. He found himself at that same strange location, deep in the desert, standing on a boarding platform in front of an abandoned train station. Just as before, a huge black locomotive emerged from the darkness pulling seven rail cars behind. A smallish man stepped down and greeted him. “Welcome aboard, sir. We’ve been expecting you.”
    Judd climbed up the stairs and into a spacious dining car. He took a seat at a table by the window and peered out into the night. A shiver slid down his spine and he was shaking slightly. Suddenly from behind him, he heard a deep voice. “Not as easy as you thought it’d be was it, Parker?”
    Judd turned to see the big man from the diner. Vincent’s eyes seemed to see into the bowles of his mind, as if he knew the words before he spoke them. “I . . . uh . . . I didn’t realize . . . . I mean . . . when you first found me and led me to that cabin by the ocean. The transition from Parker Holden to someone completely different wasn’t what I expected it would be. “
    Vincent shook his head slightly. No one ever fully realizes the consequences of their thirst for revenge, Parker. It was you who chose to take your own life. Then you chose resurrection as Judd so you could exact revenge on the men who perpretrated violence against the woman you loved. You found solace in the bottom of a liquor bottle. Now you’ve set in motion a set of consequences you have no comprehension of. So . . . . you wish to continue?”
    “Do I have a choice?”
    “There’s always choices, Parker, but there are constraints of time as well here on the Hitchcock Railway. There is another lost soul who wishes to assume your soul. ”
    “But you’re s’posed to be my spirit guide. I don’t feel guided worth a damn right now.”
    Vincent scowled. “I AM your spirit guide. But I am NOT your god damn genie in a bottle. I presented you with options. You made your choice. And you made your choice without any discussion with your beloved Suzanne.”
    “You sayin’ I chose wrong? Dammit man! It was THEM that chose to rape Suzanne. I’m doin’ what I’ve gotta do.”
    Vincent drew a deep breath before he answered. “I’m not judging you, just reminding you that every action comes with it’s own set of circumstances.”
    Judd awoke sitting up in the bed, beads of sweat forming on his skin as he rubbed his eyes and struggled to focus. It all seemed so real. He relaxed slightly as memories of his life with Suzanne came flooding back in his memory. Silent tears fell slowly as he recalled their many days and nights together, working side-by-side building racing engines. Their reputation for automotive wizardry was legendary. Suzanne’s hand-crafted exhaust systems were nearly legendary and the reactions of those who met her always amused him. She was tall and beautiful, even in a pair of coveralls.
    Then the night came. He and Suzanne had worked late finishing a project. Parker went out to get them some late-night dinner and returned to find Suzanne lying on the floor barely able to speak. Two men, high on drugs and alchohol, had broken into the shop. Despite her attempts to fight them off, she found herself overpowered and raped. She was brutally beaten and barely alive. Life was never the same after that. The men were apprehended and spent several years in prison. When they were released Suzanne became paranoid. Parker’s reassurances weren’t enough to bring her peace of mind. One night after arguing bitterly, Suzanne drove away from the shop and didn’t return. The next morning her body was found inside her car. She’d driven off the coast highway and appeared to have drowned. Parker was never the same after that.
    His  life slowly disintegrated after her death. Somewhere during that downward spiral of horrible circumstance and crushing depression he chose to end his own life. It was then he discovered the magic of the Hitchcock Railway. He had been given choices, options that would allow him to reclaim his life and Suzanne’s. He became a man named Judd who was blinded by his thirst for revenge. It was a force powerful enough to overcome his undying love for Suzanne, yet he couldn’t seem to see it. Now one of the two men who’d harmed Suzanne was dead. He pressed on, unwilling to rest until both were eliminated.
    It was mid-morning when Judd arrived at the car lot. He knew the salesmen’s schedules and had carefully planned his encounter. A short, stocky man stepped out of the office and approached Judd. “Good morning, sir!” The man greeted him with a transparent grin and a handshake. “Good day to buy a car. We’ve got the entire inventory marked down.”
    “Yup! I’ve had my eye on that black ‘69 Mustang for awhile now.” Judd motioned toward a gleaming black car parked in the front row of the lot. “What kinda mileage it got?”
    The saleman smiled again. “Lower than you’d expect. It is a beauty isn’t it? Wanna take it for a spin?”
    Judd smiled slightly. “Yea, I s’pose. He climbed in and settled behind the wheel. The salesman slid into the passenger seat, admonishing Judd as he fastened his seat belt. “I’ve gotta warn ya. This baby’s got one strong engine, so go easy on the throttle.”
    Judd growled an unintelligable response and turned the ignition key. The engine fired and he gently slid the gearshift into position as he idled the car out into the street. Suddenly he stepped down on the throttle and the Mustang leaped forward, tires sqealing slightly as the car gained speed. The salesman stiffened in his seat. “Hey! Slow down a little mister! I TOLD you this’s one quick ride!
    There was a cold, hard expression on Judd’s face as he turned to peer at his passenger. “A little scary is it?”
    “Hell yes! I’ve driven this one. I know what it can do and I damn sure don’t want it wrecked.”
    Judd’s drove faster. He turned to his passenger and shouted. “What’s your name?”
    The salesman looked puzzled. He didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the road ahead and the curve they were rapidly approaching.”
    “Dammit man, I asked you a question!” Judd screamed. “I want to know your name!”
    “Dale! Dale Sherman! Do I know you?”
    Judd didn’t respond, satisfied to watch the man next to him cowering in terror as they blasted through a steep curve onto a straight stretch of asphalt. A view of the ocean appeared through the trees and Judd brought the Mustang to a stop at a viewpoint near the highway. Dale’s hands shook slightly as he nervously lit a cigarette. “Sweet Jesus! You drive damn good mister. Now what d’ya think. Shall we make a deal?”
    Judd’s face was a mask of  hatred and anger. He said nothing as he reached over and gripped Dale’s shoulder, watching as the man slowly met his death in the passenger seat. Satisfied Dale was indeed dead, Judd moved his body behind the wheel, making it appear Dale was driving. He carefully removed any evidence of having been there and shoved the Mustang down the incline into the water. He stood on the ridge, watching intently as the vehicle slowly drifted out of sight.
    “Is your thirst for revenge satiated now?”
    Judd was startled by the deep voice coming from behind him. He turned to see Vincent standing next to him. “Yes! I’ve done what I set out to do. Now will you take me to your cabin by the sea so I can be with my beloved Suzanne?”
    Vincent peered at Judd, his eyes forming a vortex that sent chills down Judd’s spine. “You’re CERTAIN you want to travel to Boiler Bay?” It was somewhere between question and statement.
    “If it’s where my beloved Suzanne is, that’s where I want to go.”Judd was emphatic.
    Vincent turned and walked away, saying nothing in response. Judd stood staring at Vincent, breaking into a run as he hurried to catch up. Just as he was about to reach out and grab Vincent’s arm he felt the pavement move beneath him. It was a strange sensation, as if he were becoming weightless. Much to his amazement and consternation he found himself enveloped in darkness. Judd screamed Vincent’s name, but there was no response. Just as he was about to scream again, Judd found himself on a well-worn and familiar appearing boarding platform deep in the desert. Next to him was an abandoned train station. Vincent was nowhere to be seen. Judd rubbed his eyes as he struggled to regain his composure. Then he heard the haunting sound of a train whistle in the distance.
A few moments later a long, sleek and black locomotive appeared, pulling seven railcars behind. A tall man with long, flowing gray hair stepped down from the train. “You must be Judd.” His eyes were deep green and mesmerizing.
    “Yup, I’m Judd. Where in the hell is Vincent and who the hell are you?”
    “Yes. You’re the once known as Parker Holden. My name is Andrew and Vincent awaits you in the dining car. You might say Vincent and I are two parts of a celestial whole.”
    Judd gave Andrew a quizzical stare as he boarded the train and walked on to the dining car. Vincent was seated by the window, staring out into the afternoon sun. He glanced up as Judd took a seat. “I see you made it here unscathed.”
    Judd shivered slightly. “Jesus! What happened to me back there?”
    Vincent didn’t answer and turned his attention back to the desert. “Have you ever considered the similarities between the desert and the ocean, Judd? Both sometimes seem almost infinite. And it’s entirely possible to drown on dry land.”
    An expression of irritation showed in Judd’s eyes. “Only thing I want to consider is holding my sweet Suzanne in my arms once more.”
    Vincent nodded slightly, reached in his pocket and slowly straightened a rumpled cigarette. He put it in his mouth and lit it, drawing deeply and exhaling a long plume of blue smoke into the air. “We’ll arrive at Boiler Bay soon enough.” With that he stubbed out his smoke and drifted off to sleep.
    Judd fidgeted in his chair. Unable to remain still, he stood up and paced slowly from railcar to railcar, oblivious to the faces of the people sitting quietly in their coach chairs. He felt the train slowing and rushed back to the dining car. Much to his surprise and dismay Vincent was nowhere to be found. Neither was Andrew. It was as if they’d vanished from the train.
Judd climbed down from the railcar and hurried to the path that led to the cabin by the sea. He was anxious to find Suzanne. Breathing heavily and sweating, he hurried up the incline to the ridge above the cabin. In the distance he could see two men standing near the cabin. It was Vincent and Andrew, appearing to be deep in conversation. Judd rushed down the hill toward the cabin. “Is Suzanne inside?”
    Vincent and Andrew hesitated before answering. Finally Vincent responded. “Yes. Suzanne is inside, but she’s not alone. Perhaps you should take a minute to prepare yourself.”
    “I don’t need preparing!” Judd stepped through the door, his eyes widening as he glanced across the shadowy room. There in bed was Suzanne, moaning and screaming with pleasure as she made love to a man who looked identical to Judd. He turned and nearly fell to his knees. Vincent and Andrew reached out and took his arms, steadying him as they led him out onto the porch. “Oh God! What's happened?” The men began walking toward the ocean.
    Vincent drew a deep breath. “Now perhaps you understand when I told you that I doubted you comprehended the ramifications of your decisions. When you took your life your soul arrived at a cross-road. Part of you wanted no part of a violent conclusion to what happened to Suzanne. Another part of you considered nothing but retribution. In the end your soul was torn in two. The Parker Holden inside the cabin made a choice. So did you. His choice led him back to Suzanne. Yours has led you to the sea.
    In a flash of strange light, Judd found himself standing on the bridge of an aging boat far out to sea. Not far away was another boat, much the same as the one Judd was on. There were two men on the other boat. A pair of binoculars hung on the railing. Judd peered through them, focusing on the images on the other boat. His blood ran cold as he recognized the faces. It was Brett and Dale. Judd looked frantically from bow to stern, unsure of what had happened. Unsure of what to do. Suddenly he heard a voice from above. He looked up to see Andrew and Vincent in the window of the wheelhouse. “What in the name of God has happened to me?” He screamed.
    There was a hint of sadness showing in Vincent’s eyes. “This is the conclusion of your journey. You are adrift in a sea with no shores and no inhabitants other than you three.”