Perception

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Practice random acts of intelligence & senseless acts of self-control.

Unknown

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    Despite how long the day had felt, it was barely one o’clock when we left the hospital. The clouds were grey, threatening rain, while the revving of car engines and the rumbling of feet sounded especially loud after the relative quiet of the ward. 

   There was no rush to be anywhere and Petra always liked to go to the botanical gardens or a museum after visiting Matt. She said it was so she could experience the beauty for both of them and describe it to him later. Where she saw the beauty of a duck filled, lake I saw a weed choked pond featuring feathered food flapping about, mocking me.

   No matter. Thanks to the clouds, it looked like we would be taking in some culture. I liked going to the galleries and museums. They were always heated and no one could make us leave until closing time.

    We stopped at a busy crossing and I took the opportunity to try my hand at a little cold biting. Pulling out the old, decorated plastic milk container with a hole sliced on the top I shook it a few times to make the coins jangle before asking my nearest neighbor, “I’m collecting for the homeless, could you spare a few coins?” 

    The lady just sniffed at me and turned her head. I bumped into her as I approached the next. “Please, can you spare some loose change for the homeless?”

   The man looked me over from head to toe before reaching into his pocket and adding some coins to the jar. I don’t know why, but I’ve found people were more willing to give money when I was clean and appeared not to need it then when I was dirty and obviously did.

  I thanked him and moved on to the next. In the end, three people donated, seven did not.

    Walking across the street, Jacob had to put his two cents in. “You collected money under false pretenses.”

    “Good lord,” I groaned. “What are you, a blooming lawyer? The pretenses were not false. I am in fact homeless so all money collected will one hundred percent reach it’s intended course.”

    “How can you bend your morality like that?” he questioned.

    “Easily,” I answered. “You can’t bend what you don’t have.”

     We had almost reached another crossing so I skipped ahead tapping the shoulder of the man in front. “Please, I am collecting money to help the homeless. Would you care to make a donation?”

   I held out the jar hopefully. This man with his gold watch and designer shoes looked like he had some money to spare, but the look he gave me was dismissive.

    “I already donate to UNICEF and World Vision.” Dismissing me, he turned back to face the traffic.

 I tapped him repeatedly on the shoulder again until he turned around again, “They are very noble causes and you should be congratulated for supporting them but what about the people homeless and starving in your own backyard? Most of this cities population are either unemployed or homeless. Can’t you find it in your heart to support them too?”

    He turned up his nose like he smelled something bad. “They wouldn’t be jobless if they got off their lazy asses and looked for work.”

   This ignorant jackass was really getting on my nerves. “They are trying, everyday hundred if not thousands line the street looking for work but there is none to be found. More and more factories are being closed down either through bankruptcy or new machines that taking over their jobs. What are they supposed to do when the government is not offering them any other alternative?”

   The lights changed colour then and he started to move off. “What difference is it to me what happens to them. If they can’t keep their job, it’s their own fault.”

   Why that…that.... Words failed me; they still do. He had had the money to spare. Looking down at his wallet there had to have been at least eight hundred dollars in it. On the way to the museum we handed it all out, with the exception of two hundred dollars, to anyone who asked. Well almost everyone. They first had to show us their nails to prove they were not miners. Not because of Jacobs hippy nonsense, love thy neighbor and all that rubbish, but because I wanted to prove that mother lover wrong.

   The museum, when we finally reached it, helped calm me down. I liked to go and see the mummies. I figure no matter how bad life was it couldn’t be worse then having your brains pulled out your nose.

     When we got back to camp, we walked straight into Abraham’s tent and handed him the rest of the money. Dicksonville was a safe harbor in the chaotic sea that had become our world, but even here there were outside demands pulling at the fringes. Abraham had made a deal with Roman to pay him a protection fee every month. In return, Roman had promised to keep the pushers and any undesirable elements out of the town’s limits. Everyone living in Dicksonville was to donate five or ten dollars a week towards this fund. Those who couldn’t were not turned away immediately but asked to pay double the next time. Most paid happily knowing this was the price of safety. Those who didn’t soon moved on of their own accord. By paying everyone’s rent, we had made their impossible struggle just that little more manageable.

   I will admit, it did make me feel good for a second or two but I couldn’t help but add for Abrahams benefit, “This is a once off. Don’t go expecting a repeat performance next month.”