[Hank the Houseless Man]
He spent his life ‘coloring within the lines’, doing what he was told was ‘correct’ even when certain ‘right’ things didn’t sit well with him. Justifying his anger and hatred toward others who lived in what he was told was ‘sin’…ignoring any pain or unfortunate circumstance that may have led these ‘sinners’ astray.
A blanket of generalized hatred.
Sitting alone, facing his trusting dog still barking up the willow tree, thinking constantly about his rear-end slipping through the hole he was sitting on, surrounded by empty beach chairs…Noah started to really question his existence:
Why the fuck am I here?
His thoughts honed in on the illogic of it all:
IF I say the word ‘fuck’ I’m going to hell and living in sin!
Is that even realistic?
I know ‘fuck’ is an aggressive sounding word…but hell?
Honestly?
It seemed to Noah like the more he learned about what was expected of him by his religion and culture and the more he saw what was going on in the world around him, the more confused he became about it all. The expectations and realities seemed so far off from each other that none of it was making any sense!
His thought continued:
Since hindsight is 20/20…then right now, looking back, I think it would make more sense if people who took from the poor and gave to the rich were reminded of fire and brimstone…compared to the people who were saying the ‘F’ word…I just don’t see how a word is more ‘hell bound’ than kicking people while they are down.
Noah Paused.
Then again…when I stood out front of the abortion clinics holding signs about these women being killers…saying I was kicking these ladies while they were down is an understatement…I mean, at least when the rich were raping and pillaging the poor they didn’t hold signs up calling them killers; bound for the fires of hell. Or maybe raping and pillaging is enough damage done and doesn’t require a sign.
He was headed down a very negative train of thought. Noah had to be very careful because this was exactly why he was here in the first place.
I don’t want to be like this
Something has to change!
He looked around.
It was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Noah had sat, by himself, for a few hours at that point; beginning to feel a bit discouraged.
Should I pack this all up and try again tomorrow?
Should I have made a sign?
The only people around here are homeless alcoholics…
I should have picked a better park.
He decided to give it another few minutes. Pulling out his watch, staring at it as the second hand went around in circles, before he knew it, the clock struck half-past-three and that was it. Noah stood up and started gathering up the pamphlets. The pebbles used to hold down the pamphlets on each beach chair were placed in a circle around the trunk of the willow tree…he figured he could use them again in the morning if he couldn’t find a better spot to hold the next meeting at.
“Hey you. Buddy?”
Noah heard the man but didn’t reply.
“Hey. Pal.” The man persisted. “What time you got there?”
For an instant, excitement! Was this what Noah was waiting for? He turned around with a smile ready to start his rehearsed explanation on Forgiveness Meetings. Noah heart sank…a tinge of fear set it. It was one of those homeless people, reeking of whiskey. Which made Noah think:
A bit pricey for someone without a home.
Then he reasoned with himself that if one did not have a home, it would in turn leave them with more cash to buy a good bottle of Jameson. Noah started to get a bit angry and strangely jealous about that; trying his best to shake off the judgmental thoughts, but they just kept pouring into his cerebral cortex. Looking at the old wind-up watch on his bony wrist, it read 3:33pm. Exactly 3:33pm. To the minute; most likely even the second at the rate Noah’s day was going. Coincidence? Who knew…all he could think about were the myriad of smells off the man simply asking for the time.
Who are you to judge this man Noah?
Get out of your head!
“It’s 3:33pm. Exactly,” Noah said with a fake smile.
“You don’t say? I woulda guessed it was later by the looks of that sky, but clearly I’ve been wrong before!”
The disheveled man laughed at his own joke; you could tell he was used to it. Noah wasn’t sure if it was rude to laugh or not laugh so he half smiled and awkwardly passed the man a pamphlet. The homeless man didn’t ask for a pamphlet, but Noah didn’t know how to respond…so by giving it to the man he hoped it would change the subject or at best scare the man away for the moment till Noah could gather his things and skedaddle. No dice.
“What’s this? Some religious nuts-o-futz-o stuff?” The man scrunched up his face as though offered chicken feet for the first time.
That wasn’t a reaction Noah was prepared for but it was honest, that was for sure.
“Not really. It actually has nothing to do with religion…can you read?”
“Just because I smell of Jack and piss doesn’t make me illiterate pal.”
“Sorry if I offended you. I tend to be a bit insensitive…I was trying this social experiment I have been reading about in this book. The first step is all about participating in a Forgiveness Meeting…so I figured I would start one myself. I was expecting more people to show up.”
“How many people came?” The man said.
“Well…just me so far…and now you.” Noah replied.
Walking over to the chairs on the far side of the willow tree, Noah started folding them up one by one…he wasn’t in a hurry, so when the man sat on his broken faded beach chair and picked up the book…Noah decided to take his time and give him a chance to rest. Plus, he was half curious if the man realized it was broken and if the man’s butt would fall straight through it. Leaving two chairs and his dog tied to the tree, Noah decided to take a risk and start walking a few of the beach chairs back to his Jesus wagon…if the guy took the book or his dog the lesson would be learned for next time. Noah had a funny feeling that this particular smelly homeless man was not what he seemed. Like he had met a spiritual guide or prophet and was being tested somehow.
It took a while to walk back to the car with four chairs clanging against each of his knees hanging from his forearms. By the time Noah walked back he could see from a distance that the dog leash was no longer around the tree!
How could I have been so stupid?
What would possess me to trust a man who
Doesn’t even have a stable place to live!!!
Walking faster, then practically runny, Noah was blinded by fear and anger and sadness.
Then he stopped.
He knew he was wrong. Wrong to the point of embarrassment. Looking on the other side of the tree, there was PW…he was jumping on the homeless guy’s face licking his nose. The two of them looked like they had been friends for a lifetime. PW hated most people. Of all the people to decide to finally like, he chose the smelliest, dirtiest man in the city! There was a lesson in all this. There had to be. But all Noah could think about was the smell of piss and whiskey rubbing off on his small dog’s coat. Going back and forth between guilt for having such judgmental thoughts…and wishing the guy would just leave already so he didn’t have to feel so uncomfortable: Noah justified all this with the fact that he didn’t even have a dollar to give the man if he wanted to. None of it made any sense…even he knew that on some basic level. He knew deep down that there was more to this man than the way he smelled and the way he looked. Noah could see the faded twinkle of wisdom that wasn’t quite beaten out of him yet.
Always coming prepared: Noah had an extra Bible in the wagon…and also an extra travel blanket. Guilt eating away at his insides, Noah wanted to give this man something so that he didn’t feel like a jerk when he left the man alone to face the night. Was that self-righteous? What would Jesus have done? He couldn’t very well just invite some strange smelly homeless guy into his home just because he was nice to his dog. Noah was feeling a little guilty about having his initial judgy-mac-judgerson episode.
So Noah did what he usually did whenever he got awkward or uncomfortable; he started to preach:
“When was the last time you went to the house of God in search of forgiveness for your sins?”
“I thought you said this wasn’t religious? Was that just a trick? I thought this whole circle thing was for Forgiveness…now you are telling me I gotta go to church and all that shit? Look Pal, going to church is all fine and dandy when you have something to give those folks…but when you look like me? Well, let’s just say I have seen more back doors of churches than I have front doors. So what’s really going on here?”
The man continued to pet the Prince; not moving an inch.
“I apologize.” A few minutes of reflective silence. Then Noah continued, “I’m just going to be brutally honest. You make me uncomfortable. I am not used to being around homeless people unless I am dishing out food at the pantry behind the church. What I am doing here, this isn’t religious. But I am. The reason I am doing this Forgiveness Meeting thing is because I feel lost, unhappy and stuck. Have you ever felt that way? I mean, I even had a meeting at church and I didn’t even show up today. I came here instead.”
Noah took a seat against the willow’s trunk completely deflated.
“Something has to change in my life sir, or I am going to keep drowning in my own guilt and regrets. I literally have gotten to the point where I pretty much hate everyone and any time someone lies or cheats or steals I have this intense urge to shake them and scream at them for bringing our world down to the pits of hell with their actions. There is something severely wrong with that. And the kicker is, most of my family and a good portion of the congregation I belong to are pretty much all the same way. I’m beginning to feel sick about the whole thing. I’m not even sure why I am alive anymore. What’s the point?”
Noah couldn’t believe he said all that! It was as if he was just finishing clawing at his own skin and scrapping it all off so this stranger could see the ugliness of his insides. Noah got even more uncomfortable. Standing up, he went over to grab the book and the pamphlets from the man’s hands.
“Forget it. It’s stupid. Just forget all of it.”
The man blocked him without any sign of aggression.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa there buddy. Stop right there. Take a seat.”
The man motioned for Noah to sit next to him. Hesitating, Noah sat on the edge of the red flower-print beach chair; trying not to be his usual rude self.
“Look, Pal, not one of us is perfect. As far as I can tell, we are all just a bunch of selfish assholes running around screaming ‘look at me! Give me what I want and look at me!’ when what we really should all be doing is slowing down and humbling ourselves cause we are not the only ones on this big ball of rocks. I’m not trying to be funny or anything, but look at me! [chuckling]…I am a mess of a human being. You would never think for one second that I used to have more than one house, a beautiful wife and a great career. We are all roaming this planet in search of reason or purpose or a personality ha-ha. Personally…I could use a bit of forgiveness myself. I haven’t even been able to look at myself in a mirror, any mirror, for years now. I have nightmares about meeting anyone from my past life; laughing at the pathetic ol’ man I have become…tellin’ me how great life got once I left. Now, if I can’t even look at myself in a godforsaken mirror, what makes you think I would step foot in a building where judgment and fear fester?”
Getting defensive Noah blurted out:
“We’re not all that bad! We help people!”
With an eyebrow raised the man took a deep breath…mustering up as much empathy as he could, he went on:
“Really? By the looks of it, you couldn’t wait to get rid of me. What kind of ‘help’ is that? I could see it in your face, you thought I took-off with your dog just a few minutes ago. You automatically assumed that since I smelled of whiskey and piss that I could and would steal from you. Like it’s a reflex for people in my circumstances”
“I never said that.” Noah replied.
“You’re telling me that if I sat next to you in your beloved church you wouldn’t slide down to the other end of the bench or crinkle your nose and make a comment to anyone who would listen? Doubtful Pal.”
Defensively shriveling under the truth Noah stood up and took a seat next to his smelly new friend. The truth began to flow from his 24 year old lips: “You are probably right. Your smell is driving me up the wall and I have wanted you to leave since the moment you arrived. I am sorry for being so rude and transparent.”
“Was that so hard to admit? Pal look, I forgave you the moment I saw your expression. I’d hate my smell too if I wasn’t used to it already. In fact, I partially smell like this on purpose. It keeps folks from getting to close…like a sorta safety bubble. Works pretty good don’t it?”
A light chuckle broke the mood and they both relaxed.
“If you don’t mind me being honest and working through my judgments…I don’t mind if you decide to join in on this Forgiveness Meeting with me tomorrow. I promise, no force-fed religion. By the way, what’s your name sir?”
“There is that ‘Sir’ again, huh? Well, uh…you can call me Hank.”
“My name is Noah and I would be honored if you would show up. I will be here from eleven to three.”
The man named Hank thought about it. “I guess I could clear my schedule.”
As Noah would very soon learn:
Hank was a stickler about his schedule
And boy did he have one.
Into The Mystic, Ash 