Someone Lies Outside - Part 2

Part 2 - Recognition

"You’re late!”

I had come bursting in upon him without giving “Mrs. Busy” a second glance or an opportunity to announce me. My excitement was evident, and my singleness of purpose.

“We’re going to have to hurry now!” He had one of his frown furrows between his brows as he puckered up to plant a kiss on my uncooperative lips.

“I saw him!”

He tried again without success.

“Did you hear me? I saw him!”

“Saw who?”

I could tell that it frustrated him that my attention was not totally upon him.

“Not only did I see him, I talked to him!”

“Who? WHO?”

“That homeless man with the funny hat. He‘s back. After all these weeks, he‘s back. If we hurry, I can show you where he’s sitting outside on that little bench by the bus stop.”

“Is THAT why you’re late? Why would I want to see him. Its you I want to see.”

He took my hand and twirled me around, looking down my long legs ending in straps, heels and painted toenails. Encircling my waist with his strong arm, he bent me back and cradled my head with his strong hand as we properly said hello.

The scale was definitely showing an upward trend.

I don’t know why I felt a little thrill of excitement at the idea of pointing out “Pilothat” to him. In my mind, I had already given the homeless man that name. As we left the elevator, I fairly danced through the lobby to the main doors.

I’m sure that disappointment showed on my face as we rounded the corner and I found the bench empty. He didn’t notice, though. He was intent on making it to “Lidia’s” before our reservation was given to someone else.

“TAXI!” he cried as he carried me along with his hand under my arm.

~ ~ ~ ~

From behind the Fed-X truck parked in the alley, the man in the funny cap watched the two climb into the taxi. The flash of perfect legs kept him from focusing his attention on the hair. But, he had made up his mind anyway.

“I think I’ve found my angel,” he said to no one in particular.

They look at me funny! They’re all the same.

He pulled the brown paper bag out of his bulky parka and took a quick, deep swig, glancing left and right to make sure there were no cops in sight. He didn’t need a trip to the tank.

That scary thought compelled him to take another swig from the bottle sticking out of the brown paper bag.

Angeline, as usual, was in a hurry. It was good that her office at City Center Square and his at KCPL were both on Baltimore just a few blocks apart. She could walk it quickly and easily even in her heels. The wind whipped around the corners of the tall buildings and her efforts to keep her skirt down kept her from noticing the grin of anticipation above the chin strap of the number 13 cap turned in her direction. She hurried on past without seeing as the welcoming grin turned into an annoyed and troubled scowl.

~ ~ ~ ~

They pretend that they don’t even see me, heads down as they walk by, as if I’m nothing, as if I‘m invisible. But, I see them, all squinty eyed, peering out sideways without turning my direction. Then, when they’ve passed me by and they think I’m not looking, they just have to turn and stare. I’d win every time if I took bets.

But not her, not “my angel“. She looks at me when she walks by, and she smiles.

Its my hat they see first. Some of them never get past the hat. If I didn’t have the hat, they’d find something else to turn up their fat red noses at.

I wonder if they’d be just a bit impressed if they knew what I had to go through to get this hat. It’s one of a kind A-9 flight helmet with rare sponge rubber ear cups installed half inside and half outside of the helmet. It’s got a set of R-14 earphones with the proper cord and plug, and oxygen mask snaps to attach an oxygen mask. It’s marked with a lucky “13” on the forehead and for what it’s been through, it’s in pretty good condition with only a couple of thin spots.

I spent a lot of hours looking through dumpsters for just what I wanted. I finally had to give in and spend a bit of my take at Grand Thrift, but it was worth it. I’ve become well known along my circuit. I refuse to take off my headgear even during free meals at the City Union Mission. I wonder if I could take it off for her, if she asked me.

~ ~ ~ ~

(To be continued.) 

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