Out, Damn Spots...Yeah, I read Shakespeare

"Everyone around here is nice," Spots tells me excitedly. "People are actually talking to me."

We have stopped at a gas station near Mt. Shasta. Spots goes inside for rolling papers while I head to the back lot to shoot b-roll of the mountain. When I get back, Spots is talking to a nice couple about my less than inconspicuous van. Spots is clearly happy to be having conversations that don't involve asking for money.

"Normally people just stare."

Spots has grown up in Hollywood and then lived as a hobo. He probably hasn't had the best experiences with random friendliness.

"I think that if you give people a chance, you'd be surprised how nice most of them can be," I reassure him. He nods, but I silently wonder which one of us is being the naive one.

When we get into Yreka, Spots is able to get in touch with his uncle via his parents. We are told to wait by the local McDonald's, though we grab dinner at Taco Bell (we both really like Taco Bell).

"I don't really know my uncle all that well. I do remember that he's boring," Spots confides. "He just got over his drug addiction."

We spot a car at the McDonald's, but Spots doesn't recognize the man in the car.

"Mike! Well hello stranger. How are ya?"

The man in the car is indeed Spots' uncle. He seems incredibly enthusiastic, as if trying too hard. Which is fair. He also seems to regard me with a hint of trepidation, which is also fair. When your nephew is a freight-hopping teenager, the autographed van seems more weird than quirky, I'm sure.

I give Spots my business card and we plan to meet back at the Walmart at ten the next morning so I can take him to Portland. He offers a handshake, but I return with an awkward man hug, a gesture Spots clearly appreciates. It can't be easy for him to find people to trust.

The next morning, Spots is nowhere to be found. I call his mother, who seems surprised to hear from me.

"I don't know what the deal is," she tells me, frustrated. "If you ask me, what Mike is doing is crazy."

When eleven comes and goes, I head on my way to Oregon, hoping that I have left Spots in a better situation than when I found him.


Editor's Note: According to a myspace bulletin, Spots decided to ride the freights home to LA and visit friends and family before heading back to Portland.