“Sounds more than fair, “I responded lightly, “you just let me know. I will owe you good when I get out of here.” Houser smiled again, and nodded his head. He really enjoyed the idea of being owed. I would have to find a way of paying him back. I was impressed how simple his life was. Right now, I envied him.
“It’s almost four,” Houser said absently, “kitchen will open soon. Sadie said I could bring you back something ’til you feel better. She won’t do it for long so you got to get better.”
“Sadie?” I asked.
“She runs the kitchen,” Houser said incredulously, “don’t you know anything? You’re lucky I found you.” He was shaking his head as he headed off beyond the bridge supports. He acted like the whole world knew about the kitchen.
I lay on the cardboard mattress feeling physically better than when I woke. I closed my eyes and saw my flawed vision of Amber. “I miss you baby,” I whispered. The vision didn’t improve. I had already lost perfection and I knew it would only fade more over time. My grief returned and I wished Houser hadn’t left. I needed his simplicity, as strange as it was.
Houser returned as the sun began to set. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed because my watch was on the bottom of the river. It was kind of nice not caring what time it was. I have spent my whole life watching a clock. All that happened was time ran out for Amber and me. Now time could just suck itself.
“I got you some fried chicken and a cup of jello,” Houser said as he handed me a chicken balled up in a napkin and a paper cup filled with red jello. Strangely, it seemed like a feast. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the cold chicken. There was a leg and half a breast that had been cut with a knife.
“Got to eat out here,” Houser pointed to the cement. “Don’t want critters inside.” More homeless wisdom. I crawled out and sat up slowly. I was starting to figure out how to move with the least amount of pain. The lower left side of my back felt like it had been hit with a sledge hammer. If I kept myself tucked a little to the left, I could withstand more movement.
“Thanks, Houser,” I said sincerely, “I owe you.” Houser smiled and nodded. I was getting the hang of this favor thing. Just acknowledge the debt and pay it back in kind in the future. If only the rest of life were that simple. I dug into the chicken and it disappeared quickly. It was actually pretty good as fried chicken goes. Even cold, the seasonings partied with my tongue in a snappy way. I was kind of wishing there was more. I emptied the cup full of red jello cubes into my mouth and enjoyed the brief sweetness. I stuffed the napkin into the cup and looked around for a waste can or something. Houser laughed and grabbed the cup out of my hand, walked down to the river and threw it in. Pollution was obviously not part of his ethos.
It was four days until I could stand and walk properly. Houser said I had one hell of bruise on my back. I guess I was lucky, or unlucky depending upon your point of view. I was certainly happy I didn’t have to crawl down to the river to relieve myself anymore.
Houser and I became good friends. I liked him better than anyone else I knew. I liked his philosophy. There was no way I was going back to my old life, not without Amber in it. Jumping off a bridge didn’t appeal to me any more either. I was losing weight, something I always wanted to do. I couldn’t care less what time it was and there was absolutely no stress. My home, job, car and old friends would do nothing, but remind me of what I had lost. A week ago, I would have never guessed I could live without all my stuff. Now, I couldn’t care less how full my DVR was or whether I had checked my email. I was dropping out and going off the grid.
Houser was a brilliant teacher. He had been on the streets for over twenty years. He dropped out when he lost his factory job. He couldn’t find another even close to what he had been earning, so he hit the streets. For him, it worked. He really didn’t care how the world turned and had no desire for the finer things in life. I wasn’t sure how long I could hack it, but, after four days under a bridge, I was feeling pretty free. I didn’t have any obligations to clutter my time. Grief would visit, but never stay long. There was nothing under the bridge to remind me of Amber except my own thoughts.
“I guess you could make it to the kitchen today,” Houser said, “it’s almost four so we better get started if we want more than scraps.” I looked at him strangely. His time-telling skills were gnawing at me. He wore no watch, but he always had a good sense of the time. Even when it was cloudy.
“How do you always know what time it is?” I asked with a smile. Houser was always proud of his secret knowledge of the streets. It’s one of the reasons why he liked me. I always made a point of drawing it into the open so he could show off.
“Traffic,” Houser answered, pointing to the bridge, “I can hear rush hour starting.” He was beaming and I gave him a small bow in praise, which caused a little pain. I had ignored the traffic, but he was right. You could almost count the tires crossing the breaks in the pavement. In his own way, Houser was a genius.
I followed Houser into the streets for the first time in four days. I am sure I looked a mess. I hadn’t shaved or even combed my hair in all that time. I received a few disgusted looks from suited professionals, but most people just ignored us. I felt invisible and found it exhilarating. I am sure my smell wasn’t invisible, but Houser didn’t seem to be offended.
The kitchen was in a rundown district. It looked like it had been some kind of factory at one time. It was a three story brown bricked building with large windows, mostly boarded. There was a large sign above a double set of doors that said ‘City Kitchen.’ One of the doors was propped open, but a line had already begun to form just before the two steps that led to the doors. There was no indication why we couldn’t just go inside.
“Can’t go in until ‘Sugar Magnolia,'” Houser said as we got in line behind an old woman. “Maggie, this here is Frank.” Maggie turned, her face was wrinkled like elephant skin. She smiled, nodded and turned to face the line again. I said ‘Hi,’ but I don’t think she heard it. She was humming to herself and it wasn’t offensive, almost like she could carry a tune.
“‘Sugar Magnolia?'” I asked.
“You’ll see,” Houser smiled. I waited with everyone else as the line got longer. I let Houser have his fun. I learned in four days not to get anxious about anything. Patience was a way of life on the streets. It was the cost of the freedom.
Houser seemed to know most of the people in line. A week ago, I would have never thought of them as people at all. It’s strange how jumping off a bridge could change your perspective. Not all of the people looked like they hadn’t showered for a week or more, and I was surprised at the number of kids in line. There was one mother trying to reign in three young boys who seemed very comfortable with the whole process.
The civility in the line was the most surprising aspect. No one seemed to mind the wait and there wasn’t any attempt cut in or form a new line. I was expecting more of a herd mentality instead of the practiced order being displayed. It went against everything Houser stood for.
“It’s so… orderly,” I said. I almost gave it a questioning tone.
“Sadie don’t put up with no shit,” Houser replied. Maggie stopped humming and turned around.
“You cause trouble, you don’t eat,” Maggie said accusingly. She raised her finger and pointed at me with a scowl. I smiled at her, trying to prove I was a good person and deserved to eat. She turned back around and continued her humming. Sadie must be a beast of a woman to invoke such discipline in everyone. I imagined her at three hundred pounds swinging a rolling pin with deadly force. I didn’t intend to cause any trouble, so I wasn’t too worried.
I heard an electric pop followed by a hiss of speakers firing up. “Four o’clock, here we go,” Houser said patting me on the back. The line started moving forward just before the music started. The song ‘Sugar Magnolia’ wafted through the open door. I realized that was the tune Maggie had been humming the whole time. Everyone moved forward calmly; there was no pushing or arguing. I have seen ruder people entering high-priced theatrical productions. Maybe Sadie packed an Uzi.
The line moved forward slowly, but steadily. I patiently waited my turn to head into the door. I smelled chili as I neared the door and my stomach growled. I was hungrier than I thought. I know I hadn’t eaten well in the last four days, but it really didn’t bother me until that wonderful smell hit my nostrils. Inside the door, the line continued down a short hall and took a turn to the right. The music was more pronounced inside and Maggie was bouncing to the beat. Maybe she was a deadhead from way back.
I turned the corner just as the song ended. The din of plastic trays and plates replaced the music. There was a stainless steel cafeteria line ahead, manned by people who looked like they would fit comfortably in the line. The first station was being handled by a large woman wearing a white apron over mismatched pants and shirt. Her hair, black with streaks of gray, was pulled back and covered in a white scarf. She was filling bowls with chili and handing them over the sneeze guard with a smile that was missing a few teeth. I assumed she was Sadie. She was definitely imposing enough.
“I haven’t seen you before,” a female voice to my right said as I entered the dining room. The room held a good twenty long tables with metal tubed plastic folding chairs. My eyes followed the voice to a woman dressed in a flowing red flowery skirt. Her dusty brown hair was long down her back, held in place by the same white scarf the chili lady was wearing.
“No, I guess I’m new,” I replied, a little lost for words. I wasn’t expecting to be greeted. The woman’s eyes crinkled when she smiled. She was petite, at least a hand shorter than I. Her cream-colored blouse was practical, but sharply ironed. She stood with both hands clasped behind her back. She looked completely out of place, for one thing, she had all her teeth.
“Sadie, this is Frank,” Houser chimed in from behind me, “he’s the one I told you about.” Sadie didn’t look anything like I expected. She was maybe in her mid thirties and not physically imposing at all.