by Curtis Bunn
“I’m Todd. Todd Jones.”
“See, we could be related.” He laughed.
And then I did something I never thought I would do with a homeless person: I extended my hand to shake his.
He looked down at it, confused. “I haven’t shaken someone’s hand in more than four years. And I won’t shake yours. Not because I don’t want to, but because my hands are far from clean. But the gesture means the world to me. You’re one of the few people who has actually talked to me and shared with me. Most people…well, you know how people are.”
“I can’t blame anyone for how they act. People see the homeless and are saddened and also afraid. My whole world has opened up in the last few months. I see the world differently than most now.”
“I bet you do. I wish you the best, Calvin. See, I remembered your name… Thank you for the conversation. Haven’t had a real conversation with a sane person in a long time. A long time.”
“What can I do to help you?”
“Help me what?”
“Get some food. Get off the street. Get some meds.”
“Now you want to save the world?”
“Just you.”
Todd just looked at me. “Why?”
“Why not? You have every opportunity to live a good life. You just need to take your meds, get some counseling and get to work. Todd, it’s too much out here—too many programs and job counseling centers and women. Don’t you enjoy women?”
“Used to.”
“Well, you’re forty-five. There are plenty out there waiting for you to find them. Use that as a motivation. Man, you deserve to be enjoying life. I ain’t the most religious person, but God spared you. You’re still here. Don’t insult Him by choosing to not live.”
I went into my wallet. I had a business card and handed it to him. “Todd, my cell phone number is on here.”
I went into my front left pocket. I pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills. I peeled off ten. “This is a thousand dollars, Todd.”
“What are you doing?” he said with panic in his voice. “You can’t pull that kinda money out in public. People always looking.”
“Here, take it. No one is looking now. This is enough for you to get a nice hotel room, buy some clothes and some personal hygiene stuff and get a haircut. After you do that, go somewhere nice to eat. Sit and order yourself a great meal and enjoy it. Then, you call me and I will get you a cell phone and take you to a counselor, get you some meds and see where we can go from there.”
Todd held so tightly to that money, looking down at it in his hand. When he raised his head to look at me, tears were in his eyes. “I don’t know who you are or why you would do this, but thank you.”
He looked down at Moses. “You’re a lucky dog. If he’s doing this for me, I’m sure he treats you good.”
“This is my buddy right here. I have my boys at home: Bradford, Vernon, Lawrence, Joe, Big Will. But Moses is my dog, as they say.”
We laughed and Moses wagged his tail.
“Do we have a deal?”
Todd looked at me, eyes still watery. He nodded his head.
“OK, I will look to hear from you in the next day or so. You’re going to do right, right?”
“Carpe diem,” he said, as he walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
BIKER CHICK
I slept so hard that it took Moses’ barking to wake me up at almost eleven. He had eaten the food I set out for him before we went to sleep. He was ready for a walk.
It was a beautiful morning, on its way to almost ninety degrees. There were beautiful white clouds scattered in the sky. It made me regret that I was dying.
“You’re looking so much better than when I found you, Moses. Some good rest and food have done you good.”
I felt invigorated by that. When I first saw the puppy he was somewhat battered and meek. In quiet moments, I wondered where he came from, whether he was sent to me by God. Until that moment, I had no idea that I needed a constant companion. But having Moses was uplifting because my attention was mostly on him and not what I was facing.
I checked my e-mails when Moses and I returned from our walk and found one from my holistic physician, prepping me for my first treatment. Much of what she sent was a review of what coffee enemas do in helping alleviate toxins from the body.
I was not comfortable with the idea of something rammed up my butt, but I could not take another episode with my stomach in so much pain. If nothing else, if the enemas could alleviate that, or minimize that, it would make my remaining days much easier to deal with.
My daughter was not so sure, though. She had done her research, too, and found Dr. Ali. But there was dissenting opinion about coffee enemas. Maya finally came around to agree that if chemotherapy was not going to get rid of the cancer, why take my body through all that shock and torture?
“Daddy,” she had said tearfully, “this is hard to say, but the reality is that at some point, the holistic treatments are not going to be of help. What then?”
I didn’t have an answer. As much as I believed I came to grips with my situation, it remained hard to believe I was going to die. I comprehended all of what the many doctors told me. I embraced what Pastor Henson shared. But I could not conceive of dying.
“We have to deal with that when it comes, baby,” I finally said to her. “We’ll deal with it then.”
I was excited she was coming that evening. It was funny: Being around Maya cheered me up because she was my blood, my offspring, my baby. But it made me sad, too, because I worried about how she would deal with my death.
Before I could get upset, my cell phone rang. I had spoken to my father briefly on the ride to Atlanta and forgot to call him to let him know we had arrived safely. I expected it to be him. Instead, it was Venus. My heart started pounding.
“This is a surprise.”
“And hello to you, too, Calvin.” I could feel her wide, toothy smile.
“Good afternoon; I’m sorry. This is still a surprise.”
“Why? I told you I was going to call you today. What are you doing?”
“Hanging in today. Resting. My daughter is coming this evening. Gonna pick her up, but that’s about it.”
“Well, get ready then.”
“Ready for what?”
“I’m going to pick you up. Let’s go to Sunday brunch. I have the perfect place.”
I really wanted to just relax with Moses all day. My stomach did not feel its best, which worried me. Usually after an episode, the next day I felt totally fine. Not this time.
“OK. You know where the Residence Inn on Piedmont is, in Buckhead?”
“On my way. Can be there in about forty minutes.”
“All right. Room 1906.”
I showered, which made me feel better, got dressed in some Levi’s, Kenneth Cole loafers and a plaid shirt. I shaved my head and sat on the couch with Moses until she arrived.
Moses rested across my lap as I gently stroked his back. “You may not want to hear this, but we’re going to find a vet this week you get you checked out make sure you have all your shots.”
That dog looked up at me as if he understood. It was amazing.
“If you can understand me, you should know it’s going to be all right. I’m going to make sure of that. And if you can understand me, you know I’m sick. But I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of. I promise you that, man.”
I searched on my iPad for veterinarians and dog parks and found some prospects. Before I could click on them, Venus called. She was outside my door.
I rubbed Moses. “OK, buddy, I’ve got to run for a few hours. Your food is there and water. I have the TV on for you. You’re going to be all right. Right? Oh, I’m leaving the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, so housekeeping shouldn’t bother you. OK?”
He just looked at me and wagged his tail.
I washed my hands and sprayed on some cologne and backed out of the door. “Be good, Moses. Be good.”
I shut the door
and turned around to a surprise: Venus was on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle. It was beautiful: black and gold, shiny and powerful. I stopped in my tracks, partly because I didn’t expect that and partly because seeing her straddling that bike was sexy as hell.
“Been on one of these before?”
“In my dreams.”
“Then this will really be fun for you.”
She handed me a helmet and I acted as if I was not scared when inside I was nervous. But Venus calmed me when she told me to firmly take hold of her waist. “Just hold on tight. Don’t try to shift your weight from side to side. Just move with the bike.”
She revved up that machine and weaved through the parking lot with ease and grace. When she turned right onto Piedmont, it was open road in front of us, and she guided the Harley down the major street as the breeze wrapped around our bodies. It was exhilarating.
I could see over her shoulder that the bike was just like a luxury vehicle with the latest technology. It was an elegant motorcycle.
Before long, I felt like we were floating along. The Atlanta skyline was beautiful, and she pointed to sights as we rode through Midtown and alongside Piedmont Park. At a light, she turned around and said: “You OK? We’re going to Murphy’s. It’s about three minutes away. One of the best places for brunch in Atlanta.”
I gave her the thumbs-up. I wasn’t that hungry, but I was going to enjoy the experience. I smiled to myself at that thought. I had been a person who was inflexible: If I wasn’t hungry, I wouldn’t go out to eat. Now I understood the value of an experience.
We arrived at Murphy’s in the Virginia-Highland area of Atlanta. It was a lively section of town, with people walking to and from the shops and restaurants.
I felt a little lightheaded getting off the bike. I wasn’t sure if it was the ride or my being sick. Anything that was off kilter concerned me. But it didn’t last long.
We waited at the bar for a table. “You didn’t tell me you rode a motorcycle.”
“You didn’t ask me.”
We laughed and toasted with my water and her mimosa.
“It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful day to be out on the bike,” she said. “I’ve been riding for ten years. This guy I dated actually got me into it. My passion for riding lasted—he didn’t.”
“I hear you.” My cell phone rang. I looked at it and it was Kathy. I wanted to answer so badly, but I thought I shouldn’t. Then I quickly got a grip. “Excuse me one minute, Venus.”
“Hey there.”
“How are you doing today? Are you busy?”
“I’m good, I think”—I was not comfortable answering that, knowing my situation. “I’m about to have something to eat. You OK? Can I call you later?”
“Oh, yes, sure. I’m good. I was just checking on you. I’ve been looking at that check you wrote me. But we can talk about it later. Just call me.”
“Was that your girlfriend?” Venus asked.
“That’s hard to say. She’s definitely my friend. We used to date a long time ago. Now she’s going through a divorce.”
“You still like her. I can tell. I could see it in how you smiled as you talked to her.”
“I wasn’t aware I was smiling.”
“That’s because it was so natural. She makes you smile when you’re not even trying.”
“What’s your deal? Why are you taking me to brunch and your boyfriend isn’t taking you?”
Before she could answer, we were directed to a table on the covered outside area. It felt like a new life, an unfamiliar life to be sitting outside at brunch in a different city with a beautiful woman perched across from me. I had created this box I was comfortable with at home, but it seemed so mundane and boring.
“I met someone who has potential. I like him. He’s a college administrator at Spelman. He’s smart and funny. But it’s early. The real him has not shown up yet.”
“That’s pretty cynical.”
“I’ve dated for a long time in Atlanta. Trust me, it’s more realistic than cynical.”
I nodded.
“How you doing? How you feeling? I have to be honest: I went to sleep thinking about you.”
I was hardly arrogant enough to believe she meant that in a romantic way.
“Why do you think that was?”
“Calvin, I was taken by you, your story, who you are. It’s just so much stuff. First of all, I would be a wreck if I were in your situation. But you were just hanging out and having a good ole time. You seem so calm and clear in your thoughts. It’s just really brave the way you handle yourself.”
“Thank you. But, trust me, I wasn’t always this way. In some ways, I don’t believe it. I’ve seen all the X-rays and talked to some of the leading oncologists. So, I know it’s real. It just doesn’t feel real. I want to live, and for the first time in my life I’ve been forced to look at how I was living. I wasn’t doing that much. In the last month, I have had more adventure than a soldier.”
“You said your daughter’s coming here today, right?”
“Yes. I’m looking forward to some quiet time alone with her. We hadn’t done anything together, just me and her, out of town, in a while. At home, we see each other all the time. But we have not traveled anywhere. So with these treatments I will get, hopefully, we can spend a little time doing some things together—daddy/daughter—before she goes back.”
“That should be fun. I can send you some things I think she’d might like.”
“Cool.” I did not give an extensive answer because I was too busy spreading apricot jam over homemade biscuits they brought to the table. Immediately, I liked Murphy’s.
The service was attentive with a smile and efficient. The biscuits and muffins were delicious. They made me want to eat, which was a feat. She ordered the shrimp and grits and I ordered the strawberry pancakes, eggs and bacon. Murphy’s felt like home.
The food reminded me of my grandmother, who made biscuits from scratch and pancakes that were melt-in-your-mouth good. She could cook anything. It also felt like home because the people were open and friendly. Everyone seemed was in a good mood, and that was pleasant to experience.
“There are a lot of great places to eat in Atlanta; this is one of my favorites,” Venus said. “Brunch, lunch, dinner, you can’t go wrong. That’s why I chose it. I had to take you somewhere I knew you’d enjoy.”
I was enjoying my time with Venus more than I had anticipated. Whenever I could engage people or a situation and forgot I was dying, it was a special time. I had it with Kathy longer than any other time. Walking Moses and caring for him took me away from my plight. It was during quiet time that I was overwhelmed with what was ahead.
“Do you mind talking about what’s going on with you or does it bother you?”
“I have not told many people. I’m not trying to hide it. But I don’t need to put it on blast, either. With you, it just came naturally with the conversation. I felt something about you that made me comfortable. It’s hard to put a finger on.”
“Well, I didn’t tell anyone. I sensed that you hadn’t told a lot of people. I don’t think anyone would. But I—I don’t know—I felt honored that you were open with me.”
“What if I wasn’t sick? Would we still be here.”
“Yes, because we aren’t here because you’re sick. I have gone through some things in my life that make me cherish life and good people. One of my close girlfriends, Ladina, died from breast cancer last year. It was so sad because she didn’t tell me she was sick. I had no idea. We were having a good time at homecoming that October. By January, she was gone. I didn’t learn anything until she was in the hospital. By then, it was just a matter of days.
“So, for you to tell me, even though you don’t know me, it meant a lot. I can’t imagine what it was like for Ladina, so I can’t blame her for not saying anything. Maybe I would do the same thing. I just wanted to know so I could spend that time with her and tell her how much she meant to me.”
“That’s definitely the
dilemma that comes with this. The people closest to me—and you and a homeless guy I met late last night—know. But not everyone.”
“A homeless guy?”
“Yeah, I was walking my dog around three in the morning and we ran into him and we just started talking. It was interesting because, basically, he was a guy—the same age as me—who had given up on life. I told him that I was losing mine and I have learned more clearly than ever that life is a gift.”
“I looked at a woman who was like my second mother,” Venus said. “She’s older and losing the battle with Alzheimer’s. Her mind is going and her overall health is deteriorating really fast, too. It hurts my heart to see her like this. And it scares me. It makes me think about my future.”
“Be glad you have a future. A lot of it you can control by eating right and exercising. And getting rest. None of that matters when cancer comes calling, though.”
Venus nodded her head slowly and sadly. “Venus, it’s OK. I’m here now and I’m having a great time. And I appreciate you picking me up and bringing me here. I think I’ll bring my daughter here before she goes back.”
“What was your life like before all this?”
“You know what? It wasn’t this exciting. It was good, but kinda mundane. I loved teaching and my students and that was my focus. I played golf a lot and I liked books, but I didn’t travel much or have much adventure. I guess it was a safe existence.
“But lately, every day has been an adventure. It’s like as soon as I decided to live my life, my world began to open up. If I had been living this way all along, no telling where I would be now or what I would have done.
“That’s one of the things I will tell my daughter while she’s here. We have one life. How we live it is up to us. But we have to live it in order to get something out of it.”
Venus looked at me with sorrow in her eyes. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Venus.” She was the only person I knew named after the goddess of love, and I liked saying it. “I’ve accepted there’s nothing I can do about what will happen to me in the coming months. I don’t like it, but there’s literally nothing I can do about it. So, I’m living and having the time of my life. But you’d better believe I struggle with it. Always will.
