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Been There Before

Edgar Bee

    I was half way down on the escalator when I spotted Michel coming up the other side.
I looked away and tried to hide behind a tall, fat woman in front of me.
    “Jack, I have to talk to you, wait for me at the bottom of the stairs, please; I’ll be right down,” I heard him cry out suddenly.
    “No, I don’t have time,” I said.
I squeezed past the big woman and started climbing down the moving stairs.
    “Wait, please; I’ll be right there.”
    “I can’t wait,” I called back.
“I told you I don’t have time.
Go away.”
    I stepped off the escalator and set off in as brisk a walk as I could manage toward the subway ramps.
I’d been hearing the sound of a train picking up speed, leaving the station, and now spotted several people coming at me on their way out.
    “What direction was that last train going?” I asked the first one I met.
    “Westbound.”
    I headed for the eastbound platform, delighted by the sound of another train - this one coming our way.
I entered the ramp at one end and kept marching toward the other end till the train came to a stop and its doors slid open.
I walked straight in, turning my head to look back as I did, to see if Michel was coming up behind me and how far back he was.
    I stared right into his eyes, as he was pulling up at my side, panting for breath.
    “Jack, I have to talk to you, please,” he said.
    “I’m not listening.
I know what you want and you’re not getting any.
Go back wherever you were on your way to and leave me alone.”
    “Jack, I’ve got good news.
I’m clean; I don’t do drugs anymore, and I’m working.
I just need a small loan to do me till payday, so I can eat.
I’ll pay you back, I give you my word.”
    “Your word?
You think I’m dumb enough to fall for that again?
I’d need a master’s degree in mathematics to count the times you told me you’d pay me back.
Always with the same story that you’re off drugs and working; then a few days later you’re back with the same story all over again.
You’ve just quit drugs, found a job, and you just need a loan, till payday.
I don’t even want you to pay me back.
All I want you to do is stay out of my hair and quit making promises you don’t intend to keep.
I’m tired of listening to the same lies every time I run into you.”
    “Jack, it’s the truth this time.
I swear.
I really am off drugs, and I’m working.”
    “Yea, sure.”
    We had met for the first time on a street corner not far from my place, where he had accosted me with a sad story of having just arrived from the country and having been mugged.
He had needed a small loan, to tide him over for a couple of days till he could arrange to have some money sent from home.
He wanted my address, so he could pay me back when he got his money.
He had turned up at my door a few nights later as promised, but with another sad story, and a thousand more since then, and never to pay me back.
    “Jack, I haven’t had anything to eat for three days; I’m starved.”
    “That’s bull.
You think I’m crazy enough to think you wouldn’t have been storming down my door long before this if you’d been three days without eating?”
    “You told me the last time I was at your place you never wanted to see me there again.”
    “I’ve told you that a thousand and one times and it’s never kept you away before.
    “And why didn’t you bum on the street, if you were hungry and had nothing to eat?”
    “You know I don’t like bumming on the street.”
    “You don’t like?” I bellowed.
“You’d rather go three days without eating than bum on the street?
You really think I’m dumb enough to fall for that?
I’ve seen you bumming on the street lots of times, and you never seemed too much out of place.
You’d go bum at the kindergartens, if you thought the teachers would let you talk the kids into giving you their lunch money.”
    “Jack, please, I’m really hungry.”
    The train came to a stop and the doors slid open.
I got off and headed for the exit, with Michel in tow.
“You’re not getting a penny from me, so you may as well quit following me.”
    I was not surprised that he continued following me anyway.
“Jack, I’m serious this time.
I’m really off street drugs; I’m clean.”
    I looked at his eyes, but that didn’t tell me anything.
Could he be telling me the truth, this time?
I had lied my fair share, at one time, till finally, those same stories I had been telling for so long had not been lies anymore.
I had stopped drinking.
The same thing could always happen with him.
But somehow I didn’t think it had just yet.
“So what if you are?
I’m supposed to feed you, now that you’re off drugs?”
    I was sorry I’d said that from the moment it was out.
If I really believed he was straight, I’d want to help him more than anything.
    “No, of course not,” he said.
“But you’ve always helped me when you knew I was still on drugs.
Surely you can help me one last time now that I’m clean.
And I’ll pay you back this time, I promise.
I really do have a job.”
    “How long since you’ve been off drugs?” I questioned, toning down.
    “Three weeks.
I did it in a detoxification center, like you did with booze.”
    I could have sworn it had been less than that since he’d been at my door.
    “When did you get out of detox?” I asked.
    “Three days ago.”
    “They kept you less than three weeks to get you off street drugs?”
    “They wanted me to stay longer, but I told them I’d be okay.
I wanted to start on my new job.”
    “You haven’t worked in years, if you ever did, so what was the rush?
I’m sure you were being well fed in detox.”
    “This guy I know had promised me a job if I got off drugs, and I wanted to see him, before he changed his mind and gave the job to somebody else.
I started this morning.
I’m working in a warehouse, in shipping.
But I don’t get paid till Friday.
All I need is enough to do me for the next couple of days, and then I’ll be all right.”
    I shoved my way through the turnstiles, Michel right behind me.
    “Why didn’t you ask this guy for an advance till payday?”
    “I did, but he wouldn’t go for it.”
    “That’s bull.
Nobody would help you out by giving you a job if you got off drugs and refuse to give you an advance so you could eat, after you’d worked a full day.”
    “It’s true, Jack, honest.
I can give you his number, if you don’t believe me, and you can call him.”
    I came out on the sidewalk, freshly covered with a light coat of snow.
I turned on Michel, still in tow.
“I don’t believe you and I wouldn’t believe whoever you want me to call either.
Probably another panhandler you’ve got waiting by the phone, somewhere.”
    “Jack, I’m telling you the truth, honest,” he pleaded.
“I’m starved, and I need a place to sleep for the night.
You have to help me; I don’t have anybody else.”
    “There are lots of places where you can stay for the night for free, where all the street people stay.
They’d not only give you a bed, but a nice hot supper as well, plus breakfast in the morning.”
    “Jack, most of the people sleeping in places like that never wash; the smell around them is unbearable.”
    “I’ve slept in some of those places, and I don’t remember that I found it that bad.”
    “It is, Jack.
You were probably drunk when you did.
Please.”
    I couldn’t argue on that.
I turned and walked away.
He soon caught up with me.
    “Jack, you’re my only hope; I have no one else to go to,” he pleaded.
    “You have a brother and a sister here in town, you told me before.
Why don’t you go see them?”
    “They won’t even talk to me.”
    “Stop lying to them and maybe they will.”
I barged into a coffee shop.
    “Medium coffee,” I ordered from the girl at the counter.
I half turned to Michel.
“Make that two, I guess.
    “You want a muffin with that?” I growled at Michel.
    “I could do with something heavier.”
    “They don’t have anything heavier,” I scolded.
    “A carrot muffin, then,” he said.
    I picked a table in a deserted corner of the restaurant, where we sat in silence for several seconds.
    “Jack, please,” he begged.
    “You don’t seem in much of a hurry to eat your muffin, for one who hasn’t eaten for three days,” I observed.
    He picked up the muffin and took a bite.
    “Jack, please help me,” he said after a second bite.
“I’ll pay you back on payday, I promise.”
    “Payday,” I scoffed.
“If you really can’t tell the truth, couldn’t you at least come up with a different lie, once in a while - something new?
No wonder I feel like I’m being played for a fool.
You don’t even bother to make up new and different lies.
Just the same old ones, time after time.”
    “Jack, it’s the truth this time, I swear.”
    “How much were you looking for?”
    “I know where I can get a room for the week for...”
    “A room for the week?
You didn’t think of asking how much for four nights, till you get your pay?
What do you think I am, some kind of millionaire?
I’ll give you a few dollars so you can eat.
If you’re too high and mighty to go sleep for free where the other bums in this town stay, then you’ll just have to find yourself another supplier.”
    I took out my money as I was finishing and only then realized my mistake, as I watched his eyes fasten on the half dozen folded twenties in my hand.
I extracted two and threw them moodily on the table in front of him.
    “It’s four days to payday,” he said.
“Could you spare just one more, please?”
    “Another twenty?
Where do you plan on eating, anyway?
The Ritz Carlton?”
    “Jack, it’s four days till payday.”
    “Why don’t you go eat at the Salvation Army, like everybody else?”
    “Jack, please.”
    I threw in one more twenty.
“That’s it.
Shove that in your pocket and get away from me before I change my mind and take it back.”
    “Thank you,” he said, getting up while pocketing the money.
    “Michel,” I said as he turned to go.
“If you’re telling me the truth, good luck.
You can forget about paying me back.
But don’t come back for more.
If you do have a job, you won’t have to.
And if you don’t, I’m not going to listen to anymore of your bullshit, so don’t bother trying.”
    He hesitated; said, “Thank you Jack,” and hurried out of the restaurant, leaving a half full mug of coffee and most of his muffin.
    One thing I knew for sure, he wasn’t hungry.
I hated being played for a fool, like that.
But then I remembered the look of anticipation in his eyes as he grabbed at the money and turning to go, and I started feeling better about what I’d done.
A little over ten years ago, I’d been out there panhandling and going without food or shelter so I could sustain my drinking habit.
I knew how rough it could be out there and how just enough for another bottle was appreciated – another fix, for him.
I had been lucky.
I’d been taken in for stealing and offered to serve my six month sentence in a rehabilitation center for alcoholics.
I had accepted, and by the Grace of God, I had not had another drink since.
    I had done pretty good for myself, since then, and I sometimes felt guilty for all the splurging I did on myself, knowing there were others out there still living the life that had been so devastating on me.
    How wonderful it was to be on the giving end, now, instead of the receiving.
    If he had lied again about having quit, like I was sure he had, I knew he would be back, and I also knew that in the end I would not turn him down.
And that made me feel good about myself.

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