The Rat
He was trying to act distracted and busy, nonchalant.
But I spotted him right away coming out of the bathroom.
Dirty tan raincoat. A few days of beard growth. Mostly bald. Thin.
He was trying to move down a hallway.
A homeless guy in a community gym building.
I opened the door and said. “Hey, you can't sleep in there.”
He nodded and looked disappointed. Sad.
I continued, “You'll have to find somewhere else to sleep.”
He came out and wandered away.
I thought about it later sitting at my desk.
I was on duty that night at the community center.
I cracked my course book open. Trigonometry homework.
Still, I wondered where he would sleep.
There were no Mission type facilities around this part of town.
They were, as far as I knew, downtown, many miles away.
But I thought about him.
I felt kinda bad for him.
I wondered if I would ever end up like that.
Poor, alone, homeless.
I almost did once.
For a while I slept in my VW bus, a community building couch.
It's an experience you don't forget.
But I think his experience was more serious.
Not just an in-between crash pads situation.
But a state of affairs had befallen him.
And there was no one to get him out of it.
And he couldn't get out of it himself.
Sometimes it's just beyond one's ability.
I still remember that hapless, forlorn look he had.
The look in his eyes reminded me of a rat I once encountered in an old tool shed.
I'd opened the door to see about cleaning out all the junk left in there.
The rat, large, brown, started to to move one way, then stopped when he knew I saw him.
He tried to decide what direction to run. He was pausing and waiting.
He was looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Like the homeless guy did.
I decided I'd leave the rat alone and let him get out of there in his own time.
That I'd clean the shed up later. After he'd vacated.
I wonder if he's still alive today.
The man not the rat. Somehow they seem like the same creature.
In a moment like that maybe they are. Just trying to survive.
In a world that's pretty damn harsh at times.
I guess wish I'd left him alone. to sort it out too.
In his own time, like the rat.
(Above image: sistine_chapel_frescos_revisited_21_ink_on_paper,
by Allen Forrest)
