by Ryan Scott
“That’s my personal business.”
“That’s fine with me. Listen, I was just going to the Red River Café for breakfast. Would you like to join me?”
I’m hungry because I gave all the pizza to Dog, but I remember when that short foreign man threw me out. “They won’t let me in.”
“Oh is that so! I’ll tell you what. I’m going to get tacos for both of us, and then we can sit under that tree and talk.”
I decide to eat the tacos, but I’m going to be on my guard not to tell him things he could use against me.
While we’re eating, he says, “Listen, I just received my doctor it in psychology, and I’m concerned about the homeless. There are a lot of benefits you could receive if you knew how to get them. I’m willing to be your advocate and help you out.”
“Like what?” I ask, thinking he’s full of shit.
“Well, we can start by getting you shoes and decent clothes, but first I need to make some phone calls. How can I get in touch with you?”
My feet are blistered so I decide to take a chance, but I’m not going to show him my hiding place. “I stay in the park.”
”Great! I’ll meet you in one hour.”
I’m sitting at a table under an oak tree when I hear the tap tap of his cane coming down the street. He waves, but I stay on guard.
He sits down opposite me and smiles. “I’ve got good news.”
“Where’s the fucking shoes?” I ask, not wanting him to make a fool of me.
“Do you know where the Goodwill Store is located?”
“Yes. What about it?”
“I’ve talked to them and explained your situation. They said if you go there, they’ll let you pick out clothes and shoes. All I need is your name so they will know who to expect.”
I knew it was a trick. “My name is my business,” I say and get ready to run.
“It’s no trick! Look, just trust me this time. After you get the shoes and clothes, I’ll see about getting housing and free money for you.”
The mention of free money makes me decide to give him a chance. “My name is Clyde.”
“What’s your last name?”
I think about it for a while before I say, “My name is Clyde Barge.”
“Thank you Clyde. Don’t worry. I won’t betray you. I’ll call them to let them know you’re coming. After you get the clothes, come back to my house so I can let you know what to do next. I live on Liberty Street. Here’s my address and phone number,” he says and gives me a scrap of paper.
When I’m at the Goodwill Store, I tell the lady behind the counter my name, and she calls the manager. He comes from the back, not looking too friendly, but he takes me to a bunch of old jeans.
“I don’t want jeans. I want a suit,” I explain.
He rolls his eyes and takes me to a rack of old clothes where I look through them and pick a light weight tan suit.
The manager looks disgusted. “Look, the legs are much too long for you.”
I tell him I don’t care so he lets me take the suit. After I take a red checkered shirt, I look over the shoes and pick a pair of black and white wing-tip oxfords, but no socks. When he lets me change in a little room, I drop my old clothes on the floor and leave them there, but I take the scrap of paper the blind man gave me. As I walk through the store, the manager is acting like he wants me to thank him. I don’t know what his game is, but fuck him.
I go to the blind man’s house and he lets me in.
“Clyde, you certainly look fancy in that suit and two-tone shoes. I’ll print your name in them so people will know they belong to you. Now, I want you to take a shower and shave, and then we can talk about getting you on SSI.”
“What’s SSI?”
It’s the Social Security. If I get you qualified, they’ll send you money every month, and once you’re on SSI, you’ll be able to receive more benefits.”
“Like what?”
We can talk about that later, but for now take that shower. I’ll let you use my scissors and razor.”
I can’t remember the last time I washed, but I decide to go along with what he says, even though I don’t trust him.
When I’m shaving, I look in the mirror and see a sad, emaciated old man with baggy eyes, haggard face and wrinkles with rotting teeth. This ain’t me, I think. I’m better looking than that. Someone’s fucking with the mirror!
Chapter 4
At sixteen, I study my reflection in the mirror, trying to determine if I’m ugly or good-looking. If I hold my head in a certain way, I think I look handsome, but other times when I catch a glimpse of myself, I think I look really stupid. I’m quite thin and my arms are skinny, but I hope Janine will be attracted by the way I sing tonight at the annual sock-hop. She’s a beautiful senior cheerleader, not like most of the other girls who have braces, acne or have legs that are too thin or too fat.
I can see her now, as she looks at me with her lovely face melting with desire while I sing her special song.
Otis pounds on the bathroom door. "”Clyde, let me in. I've got to go real bad."
I hear my father calling from the living room. "Clyde, would you come here please? I need to talk to you."
I wonder what the hell he wants. I know he’ll find something to criticize.
When I sit facing my father, stern face, iron-gray hair and stern, he says, “Clyde, I'm concerned you’re spending too much time singing in that school choir. I’m afraid your grades will suffer."
“My grades are all right," I say, trying to forestall his lecture.
"We'll both know that in two weeks when you get your report card, but in the meantime, I want to see you spending more time on your homework. I'm afraid you're going off on some wild tangent with this singing nonsense. Your brother is focused on going to medical school, but all you want to do is to sing and horse around. Singing is all right for a hobby, but you need to think about your future and making money."
Mother comes into the room holding up her hand.
“Yes Mother, what is it?”
Looking timid, she replies, "If you want to sing, you can always sing at church. The last time you sang everyone thought it was just lovely.
Father turns back to me. "She’s right Clyde. Just what do you plan to do to make a living?"
The fastest way to get through his lecture is to tell him what he wants to hear so I say, "I'm not sure, but maybe I’ll go into accounting."
He smiles. "That sounds sensible, but you’ll have to organize your time better if you want to succeed in the business world. Now, as I promised, here are the keys to the car, but it must be washed and clean thoroughly.”
That afternoon while I’m polishing the car, I try to think of a way to convince the popular cheer leader to let me take her home. Who knows what could happen, but by evening, I still didn’t have a specific plan.
When I’m at the dance, I eagerly look for her and see her across the dance floor. She’s wearing a low cut pink dress. I try to get her attention, but she’s busy talking to a group of football players.
Miss Jenkins, the music teacher, motions for me to join the other members of the choir. We’ve been practicing three songs to perform before the dance begins.
When we begin to sing, I’m dazzled by the spotlight, but I’m anxious to sing our last song, especially for Janine. When we sing “Janine, my queen of lilac time," I catch her eye and smile. She definitely looks interested.
At the end of the performance, I work my way across the dance floor toward Janine, intercepting Mike the quarterback. I wedge between them and say, “Hey Janine, How about the next dance?"
She pinches my cheek. "Oh, Clyde, were you singing that last song just for me, you silly boy?"
"Maybe I was and maybe I wasn't. How about that dance?" I ask, afraid Janine would be snatched away.
"Oh, all right. I'll dance with you," she says , flashing a glance at Mike.
As I gracefully glide her over the dance floor with her admirers looking on envi
ously, she whispers in my ear, “Clyde, you're such a good dancer."
The evening is progressing better than I hoped . When the dance is over, I say, "Let's step outside for a breath of fresh air."
"Well, it’s hot in here so I'll go but just for a little while," She replies and takes my hand.
When we’re outside, we go to the back of the gym, out of view of the chaperones. I take a package of Lucky Strikes from my coat and offer her one, but she doesn’t smoke. Actually, I’m glad she doesn’t because I always cough, but I don’t know what to do next. Be bold. Faint heart never wins fair lady, I think to myself.
I take her in my arms and try to give her a kiss, but she pushes me back and turns away. "Hold on tiger! Who do you think you are anyway? You’re not Otis!"
I’m confused, hurt and embarrassed. I’m not sure if I should apologize or act as if she had made a funny joke.
Before I could say anything, Mike comes around the corner and yells, "Hey, Janine, do you want a ride? I've got a bottle in my car."
“Oh hi Mike! I’d love to go!” she replies and runs to the athlete, neglecting to say good-bye.
Chapter 5
Its overcast when I wake up feeling sticky so I take off my suit coat and let it drop to the ground. That feels better. I wonder how dog is doing, but I’ll check on him after I find something to eat. That bakery next to the laundry mat sometimes has bread or rolls or something they didn’t sell. Maybe I can find something there.
I’m in luck! There’s some loafs of bread and some jelly rolls they put out by the back door. I’ll just take those rolls.
When a few drops of rain begin to fall, I sit under the awning and eat my breakfast, wishing I had coffee. I guess I’ll go to the hunchback and see about Dog.
When I walk into the animal hospital, the lady behind the glass gives me a dirty look. “What do you want?”
“I want to see Dog.”
“Oh, you’re the one with that injured dog. Wait a moment, and I’ll get the doctor.”
The Hunchback with the friendly blue eyes comes out and smiles. “Your dog is doing well. His leg is in a cast and he’s all stitched up. You can see him if you want.”
He ain’t my dog, but I don’t say nothing and follow the doctor into another room. When Dog sees me, he lifts his head and slowly wags his tail. When I pat his head, he licks my fingers. “Hello Dog. I guess you saved my ass.”
The hunch back nods his head. “The other man who came with you told me how your companion tried to protect you from his Rottweiler. He’s a brave little guy, but I need to keep him here while he recovers. You look like you could use a meal yourself. Here’s five dollars. Go and get yourself something to eat,” he says and gives me the money.
I take the money, but he don’t criticize me. I need to be careful with this one. He could be dangerous.
At the store next to the laundry mat, I buy two Buds and a Snicker candy bar. As I’m sitting on the bench in front of the store drinking my beer, a man comes out and tells me I can’t drink beer on his premises so I walk over to the bench by the bus stop and continue to drink.
Cars are whizzing past when a bus suddenly stops. A colored driver opens the door and yells, “Hey you! Do you want a ride or not?”
I don’t say nothing but I give him the finger. He slams the door and drives away.
I’ve just opened my second beer when a black Buick goes past with Otis behind the wheel. I throw the can of beer and dent his car, but he speeds away. “Take that! You son of a bitch!” I yell.
I remember the last time I saw him. I was just released from the hospital when he picked me up and took me to a restaurant and began his haranguing.
“I think you made a mistake by spending all of your inheritance to a lawyer to get you out. You are a paranoid schizophrenic and are unable to care for yourself.”
“Fuck you!” I shout. “You might be my brother, but you are a lousy bastard who wants to keep me locked up!”
“Keep your voice down. People are looking at us. I’m only concerned for you. I’m afraid you will become a bum on the streets.”
My blood boils over and I lunge across the table. His chair tips over with dishes crashing on the floor. I tried to get my hands around his throat, but he gets up and runs away. I haven’t talked to him since, that son of a bitch!
It begins to rain again so I walk down to 8th street to the Salvation Army where I see lots of mean-looking men, especially blacks and hippies. When I try to get in line for a cup of soup, a big man with no teeth and bald head shoves me hard. ”Don’t buck the line you asshole!”
Another man takes my arm. “The end of the line is back here,” he says and leads me to the end of the line.
A young black in front of me laughs derisively. . “Hey whity, if you try to cheat in line, you’re likely to get a firecracker popped up your ass.”
I don’t say nothing and wait until I get a cup of thin soup and a crust of bread. I try to find a place in the big hall away from the blacks and hippies. There’s a lot of noise, and some people are talking to themselves, but I find a place in the corner; eat my soup and sit hunched up all over. I just sit there and my mind goes blank, but no one bothers me.
At night they make me leave because they say all the beds are taken so I walk out into the rain and head for the bridge, hoping there ain’t no blacks or hippies there.
I’m shivering when I climb down the bank and get under the bridge. When I check the place for blacks and hippies, I see only two white men sitting by a fire, wearing heavy coats and gloves. I wish I had my coat.
One of them calls to me. “Hey brother, come over here and get warm. Me and my good buddy, Albert here, are drinking whiskey. Here, take a swig; it will warm you up.
I don’t like strangers, but I do like whisky so I take the bottle and swallow a mouthful.
I don’t trust them so I sit away from them but close enough to feel the heat of the fire. My shoes are hurting my feet, but I can’t untie the knots.
“Hey brother, use my knife to cut those strings,” one of them says.
I take the knife to cut the strings, but I nick my finger. After I return the knife, I take off the Goodwill shoes. My feet are cold so I rub them avoiding the blisters while the men continue to drink. My new pants with the extra long legs have splits in them where I’ve walked on them, but I don’t give a shit.
I lie back and try to sleep, listening to the rushing of the creek. I suddenly wake up to the sound of arguing.
“You son of a bitch! Give it back!”
“Don’t call me a son of a bitch you cock sucker, or I’ll kick you in the nuts!”
They yell some more, and then one of them slugs the other. They grapple and one of them falls down. The one called Albert gets up with his knife and stabs the other.
“You stabbed me, you bastard,” the wounded man cries and falls to the ground. Albert runs away.
I don’t want no trouble so I leave also. It’s still raining so I go to the laundry mat to sleep. I’m in luck. No one is there, and it’s warm. I lie across a row of chairs and go to sleep.
The next morning, I find a slice of coffee cake at the back door of the bakery. After I eat it, I go to the park. The rain has stopped but the creek is high. When I come out of the shitter, a cop steps in front of me.
“Are you Clyde Barge?
“What if I am?”
He snaps handcuffs on me. “You are under arrest for suspicion of assault with a deadly weapon. You are advised that anything you might say can and will be used against you. You may remain silent.”
“I didn’t do nothing,” I say, but he pushes me towards his squad car. I remember the last time those bastards hauled me away.
Chapter 6
I admire the lieutenant second-class bar on my shoulder and feel proud. Four years of ROTC at the University of Texas has finally paid off, but I’m having difficulty adjusting to military life. For one thing, those voices I first heard in my senior year are getting worse. I c
an hear them clearly. “Loser! Stupid! Ridiculous!”
I’m afraid Otis is behind everything. Maybe he’s making the Army send Secret messages through the Company newsletter. After everyone goes to sleep, I’m up trying to break the code, carefully cutting out every third word and putting them together, but nothing makes sense, I know I’m getting close so I try every fourth word. The lack of sleep is having a toll on me, but it’s important to break the code.
I think the men in my platoon are in it also. Whenever I walk into a room, they stop talking. I try to sneak up on their conversations, but they always have a lookout. I don’t tell anyone, but I think the army is trying to manipulate my mind.
