Traveling Mind

Forgotten

I saw a man today on my way home from work in the forum just outside of the courthouse he looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. He was wearing shredded jeans and a tank top; no shoes just threadbare sock. His hair was long and matted, he looked as if he was beaten up, his face was bruised severely. He had wild eyes that seemed to threaten everyone and everything in his view.

I began to walk by the man and I felt his angry gaze pierce through the back of my head.

"I am forgotten!", he shouted.

I turned around to look at him and he paused for a moment.

Taking a step toward me he shouted again, "I am forgotten."

Finally, I spoke to him, "Do I know you?"

His wild eyes stood still and he began to look at me with a newfound clarity and he spoke. "No, but you know of me, you know of my pain and yet you walk by like everyone else."

I don't normally carry cash but today I happened to be carrying cash. I reached into my pocket and tried to hand him the twenty dollar bill in my pocket. He struck my hand angrily away from him and grabbed me by my coat.

He pulled me close and spoke quietly, "After taking that money what do you do?"

"I would go home." I said with a bit of fear seeping into my voice.

"After you go home I still sit here in the cold. Do you think of me my suffering? Do you find another way home to avoid me?", he interrogated.

I paused for a moment and that proved to be a moment too long because my silence was interrupted.

He let go of my shirt and slowly turned around and defeatedly uttered his words... "I am forgotten."

I took offense to the assumption he had made about me. Over the next few weeks, however, I found that my offense had little to do with the truth. He was correct in every meaningful way I did go home and I did continue my life as normal. I only occasionally thought of him. I avoided walking through the square for a time. I told myself it was to go to the coffee place a street down but that was a lie, I don't really like coffee and the thought of that man made me feel guilty. I just carried on as if I was never stopped by would until I forgotten about the incident entirely.

Eventually, I returned to my normal route to work in a completely absent-minded way. My routine was established my days began to blend and I was again content and complacent. Then I was reminded of this man very suddenly when he broke my routine for the final time. About a block away from my home I saw the man again sitting upright against the wall surrounded by a few people that finally noticed him. The emergency lights reflected off his now blue skin and I began to walk toward the spectacle as it unfolded. The paramedic seemed to be checking for a pulse; he just shook his head and walked toward me with a police officer. While they walked toward me I walked closer and looked the man in the eyes, he had the same wild look about him.

The policeman asked as soon as he approached, "Do you know this man?"

I shook my head and said plainly, "No."

"I'm going to have to ask you to move along then, we got work to do here.", The policeman irritatedly remarked.

So I did I walked home and expected to feel guilt but there was none. I expected grief or sadness but I genuinely did not know him. My coldness in this moment shocked me more than his corpse, haunted me more than his dead eyes. Am I a bad person for feeling this way? Perhaps, I should just keep moving along.