Just Off Broadway...

It was such an odd thing to see. I’m still not sure why I didn’t fall in line with all the others and ignore it or simply pretend it wasn’t there. But I couldn’t. My attention was drawn to it, and somehow it had a hint of familiarity about it. You know the one I am talking about. That strange kind of displaced deja vu feeling you sometimes get and can’t explain away or remember why it effects you so. Maybe that is why it caught my eye while remaining invisible to the rest of the world.

The sun had slid behind the skyline of the tall buildings to the west, leaving the city below cast in varying shades of shadow and light. I guess it had just become weary from its failed efforts at trying to warm the frozen city and decided to call it a day. I hurried across the courtyard of the elegant Aegon building, taking long strides down the well-manicured sidewalk to Broadway. Somewhere along the way, I became the Pied Piper to a group of hungry pigeons that followed the scent of the popcorn I was snacking on.

Reaching my destination, I found myself held hostage in the three-sided glass cubicle of the bus stop. The cocky birds demanded a ransom before allowing me to pass to the curb. They scattered after the rolling kernels of unpopped corn as I flung the remnants of the bag to the sidewalk before me. Relieved of this distraction, my mind was free to consider other things and that is when I saw it.

A movement caught my eye and I looked at it as much with reaction as intention. Old crates and debris cluttered the alley across the street of lumbering traffic. My gaze traveled to the dumpster at the far end. Something had moved there, and my subconscious had picked it up as being out of place. It took several seconds before I recognized what I saw in the darkness of that cubbyhole. Two legs, with feet off the ground, kicked and twisted a bit as the body attached to them leaned over the side of the dumpster. The sounds of the city melded together around me into a noisy silence as I watched and waited.

The feet soon found the ground again, their legs supporting the frail, rumpled form of an old man. I could sense his excitement as his hands fondled the treasure he had found. His shabby coat and unkempt hair could not keep a toothless smile from spreading across his stubbled face. Even at this distance, I could see the look of expectation die on his face to be replaced by that of a disappointed child on Christmas morning. The empty Krispy Crème box fell to the ground at his feet as our eyes met and locked across the way.

His pale eyes neither gathered nor gave any information. They simply stared off into some distant place of thoughtless ether. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but I knew I had seen it somewhere else before. I knew what it was. It was the look of a soul so tortured and full of despair that it couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. A chill shivered through me as I looked into the eyes of suffering as old as mankind itself. My humility begged me to look away but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but look into his eyes and wonder what had taken him to this place he was in. Wonder what had worn the teeth on the gears of human resolve and dignity to the point that they broke off at bleeding gums. It was not a look of indifference, but rather that of hopelessness.

My trance was broken and my mind stumbled back to reality as the large frame of the bus floated to a stop between us. Stooping to drop my change into the meter, I looked past the driver’s shoulders and into the alley. The old man was gone but his image was imprinted on my mind and stayed with me well into the evening.

It was not until bedtime that the answer presented itself to me. I spit the last mouthful of rinsed toothpaste into the sink and splashed my face with some cold water. Picking up a towel, I dabbed my face dry and stared at my reflection in the mirror. And that is when I saw it.

Copyright © 2007 Mike Lawson