Writing Challenge: 150 stories. Go.
Apr 23, 2012 14:59:46 GMT -5
Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Apr 23, 2012 14:59:46 GMT -5
#113 – Dead or Alive
It’s a Wonderful Life had always been a hokey movie, but it had been a tradition in the Neville family nonetheless. Every year, one of the major networks played it on television, and every year around Christmas, the Neville family would gather around the television set in the living room and watch it together while sharing a bowl of popcorn and some of the cookies that Mary Neville had baked for the holiday.
There was an important lesson in that movie, in between James Stewart’s poignant scene on the bridge and his less poignant and somewhat hokier scene running through the town wishing Merry Christmas to every person, structure, and inanimate object he passed. Every life was significant; every person made a difference within the vast, interconnected tapestry of life. Every single person mattered.
That lesson was often lost in the shuffle of Sean’s day-to-day life. It was an abstract notion, much like religion or philosophy; something that sounded nice but had no real significance to him. Much like notions of justice or fairness or an all compassionate universe, Sean didn’t believe in it; his life had proven that impossible. He inhabited a realm where it didn’t matter whether he was dead or alive. Nobody would notice if he died, and nobody cared that he was alive.
This Christmas wasn’t spent watching movies on the family sofa with his parents and little sister. It wouldn’t be spent decorating the tree at his parents’ house and popping popcorn for eating or for garlands. It wouldn’t be spent shopping for presents.
He didn’t have the money for presents.
He didn’t even have the money for a decent winter coat. The one he wore was so threadbare that in cold enough weather, it did nothing to insulate him; and when it rained or snowed, it was even worse. The water seeped through the fabric and soaked him to the bone. The snow clung to his face and chapped his lips.
He wished that he was in California or Florida at this time of year, but he’d found himself back in the North East. Back where it was wet, cold, lonely, and turned dark far too early; there was never enough daylight in winter. There were also memories. While some of the memories helped him sleep at night and brought him warmth when there was none to be found elsewhere, others were like holes in his body, exhausting him and causing only pain.
Sometimes he was lucky, and there was enough money in his pocket for a room at a motel, or at least for a hot meal; it had been a bad week, and so there wasn’t enough for either. He had three dollars and some change in his pockets today. Not enough to feed himself, and certainly not enough for a room anywhere.
Perhaps if he found a café he could hide there from the cold for a while; three dollars went further in a café than in any other establishment. Unless he managed to find a library; he could hide there until closing, and he could actually read and try to forget his troubles for a little while.
The first café that Sean found was so crowded that there were no tables available. Although standing inside would shield him from the cold, it was also an invitation for harassment, since he would be in the middle of everything rather than huddled in a corner. He left, hoping for better luck at the next café he might find.
Unfortunately, cafés were somewhat out of vogue right now, replaced with trendy clubs, tea shops, and cigar bars. None of those establishments were conducive to hiding since he stuck out like a sore thumb in all of them.
But eventually he found something better than a café; he found a shopping mall. Shopping malls were like cities, insofar as it was easy to get lost in the shuffle, and if he was unwelcome or hassled in one place, he could go to another area in the mall and hide out there. Shopping malls were excellent places to pass the time, and they were indoors, providing insulation from the cold, the wind, and the precipitation.
It was easy to disappear in the shuffle of the crowds, and there were so many people here because of the holiday shopping rush. Everyone was dressed in coats, better equipped to shield them from the weather than his was, and most of them carried bags filled with purchases. Single people, couples, groups of friends, parents with children...every combination of human interaction imaginable were in this mall, all brought together by the need to spend for the holidays.
There were enticing aromas from the food court, from the bakeries and specialty candy shops; there were other, nice scents of vanilla and cranberry and lilac from the soap shops and boutiques. There was a giant tree in the middle of the mall, situated on the bottom floor but shoot straight up to the very top level. He was sure there was a Santa Claus down on the bottom floor near the Christmas tree, greeting the children and taking down their wishes.
Sean found his way to a directory map, and he studied it for a moment, locating a bookstore. He hoped to spend the entire afternoon there, if he could get away with it. The store was at the other end of the mall, but he was long-used to walking far longer distances than one end of a mall to another. After passing through crowds and using one escalator up, the telepath found himself staring up at the sign for the bookstore.
The window displays were filled with cookbooks with Christmas recipes and children’s books like The Polar Express and The Night Before Christmas. The store was packed, which meant that he could hide within the throng of people fairly easily; he might even be able to get some reading done.
His first stop was the store restroom, just to wash his hands. While the gloves helped a bit, he couldn’t speak for their cleanliness, and he didn’t want to ruin any of the books. Both on principle and because he didn’t have the money to purchase anything he might smudge, and he didn’t want to deal with a mall security officer.
Afterward, he moved to the back of the store, trying to find an area that wasn’t too occupied, while simultaneously containing books he found interesting enough to read. Since beggars couldn’t be choosers, the second criterion wasn’t too difficult to meet; anything but celebrity memoirs, true crime, right-wing politics, and trashy romance novels would fit the bill.
There weren’t too many people in the current events section, and so he browsed the shelves briefly, found a book and an empty chair, and he settled in to read. Reading a new book in a comfortable chair almost made it easier to forget his troubles, at least for a little while. It wasn’t normal, but that was only because he didn’t remember what normal was.
He had managed to get about forty pages into a book when he felt someone’s attention on him. Staring up at him with wide eyes was a little boy of about four. Sean lowered his book and tried to examine the child, offering him a gentle smile that he hoped wouldn’t frighten the child away.
He was also very careful not to touch the child; he knew how that would appear.
The little boy smiled back at him. “Are you Santa Claus?”
Sean knew that he could thank the beard for that. Still smiling at the boy, he shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
The boy’s expression remained awestruck. “Are you sure? Mommy said Santa was at the mall today.”
“I’m sure,” and the telepath’s voice was apologetic. “I’m just a regular guy.” That wasn’t entirely true, as he wasn’t regular, but he also wasn’t Santa Claus, and that was a more important point to make.
“Oh.” The little boy looked disappointed. “I was hoping to see him.”
“Is your Mommy not taking you to see him?”
“Daddy says maybe later if the lines aren’t too long.”
The telepath gave the boy a sympathetic expression. “I hope you get to see him.”
“Me too.” The little boy smiled up at him. “I’m going to ask for a fire truck.”
“That’s a nice present,” Sean said. “I’m sure Santa will bring that to you; you look like you’re a good boy.”
“Oh, I am.” The little boy nodded as though that would show how nice and agreeable he was. Sean thought he was cute as a button, and he hoped the boy had a nice family life. The boy then asked, “Are you going to see Santa?”
“Probably not,” Sean admitted. “Not if the lines are that long.”
“That’s too bad.” The boy frowned then. “What would you ask him for if you do get to see him?”
Sean thought of having the van repaired so he no longer needed to walk as much and so he had a place to sleep. He thought of his family that he hadn’t seen in years. He thought of having new shoes that fit better and didn’t have holes or of having more than three dollars in his pocket. He thought of having a coat and gloves that actually guarded against the cold. He thought of having a job and having self-respect. He thought of having a home so he didn’t have to travel all of the time.
He thought of Josh’s bright blue eyes and whitened smile. He thought of Josh’s laugh and the way the younger man said his name. He thought of the smell of Irish Springs soap and the occasional cigarette. He thought of waking up in the middle of the night to find that he didn’t have any blankets because Josh had hogged them all.
He thought of the last news he’d had of Josh, that he was happily with another person that he took to work events. And that he was happy and successful at his law firm.
He thought of how, as much as he’d wanted to talk to him, there was nothing for him to say because they were worlds apart. And that he didn’t want to corrupt those memories with pity in the other man’s eyes. How unbearable it would be if Josh slipped him money the way his coworker had. Or worse, if Josh didn’t even recognize him.
Finally, he feigned a smile and said, “I had a friend a long time ago. I suppose I’d ask Santa to keep him safe and happy. Maybe to let me see him again.”
“That’s really nice of you,” the little boy said. “But you should ask for a fire truck too. They’re really cool.”
“They are,” Sean agreed. But the rest of his remark was interrupted by a man in his early thirties with dark hair coming and taking the boy by the hand.
“Don’t talk to strangers,” the man told the boy, before dragging him away. The boy offered Sean another smile and a wave, before they disappeared from his line of vision.