This is a highly unusual post for me today. What you’ll find below is a small part of a novel I’m thinking seriously about writing… but not actually writing right now. I’m posting this particular bit because I like the line, “A city full of dead people, all afraid of dying.” I think that describes most of us. We’re dead on some level, and we’re afraid of what it will take to make us alive again. As I’m obviously writing from a Christian perspective, I believe that the thing we’re most afraid of is Christ, how He can change us, how He can make us live. There’s a verse in the Bible that talks about people living in the darkness and afraid of the light, and that’s pretty close to the same thing. (I’d look up the verse, but I’m feeling lazy today.) With that said, I’d like to introduce you to Ed.
Ed walked the streets of Seattle aimlessly. Blocks worth of sidewalk slipped beneath the well worn soles of his shoes. The few people he passed at this hour did not look him in the eye, tried to avoid looking at him entirely, truth be told. When you’ve slept outside for several weeks, you become less than human in the eyes of some.
“Can you spare a smile, sir?” he said to a passerby.
The business suit clad man glanced at him briefly, mumbled something about not having any change, and just kept on walking. Not even smiles come free in Seattle.
Standing just shy of six feet tall, Ed bore his thread bare clothes with something akin to dignity. His unkempt brown hair hung in shaggy clumps over his face, the back curled tightly over the collar of his once-white dress shirt. His eyes, those portions that were visible through the tangles of his hair, were a pale gray and disturbing in their clarity. They seemed to take the world in at a glance. With his hands clasped loosely behind his back as he walked, he almost looked like a scholar lost in thought. Only, in this case, the scholar was covered with the thin layer of grime that seems impossible to avoid on the street.
“It’s Sunday morning, ma’am. Shouldn’t you be on your way to church?” he asked another passerby.
The woman’s face hardened at the sound of that last word. With her eyes locked straight ahead, she charged past the rude bum.
“He still loves you,” Ed said to the woman’s back. “Even though you made your love for Him conditional.”
She slowed for one step, maybe two, but snapped her shoulders back, picked up her stride, and continued on without even a glance over her shoulder.
That one had potential, he thought. But, then again, they all had potential. Wasn’t that why he was here? It was them, the great washed masses, that brought him from the comfort of his home to this place, this world of concrete and steel.
The sun was working its way up the sky behind him, stretching his shadow to absurd lengths. He pulled alongside another morning walker.
“Pleasant morning for a walk.” Ed smiled as he looked over at the middle-aged man beside him.
The man took a step to his right, away from Ed. “I… I don’t have any money.” He didn’t look over.
“Neither do I so don’t bother asking. But I don’t see what that has to do with the morning.”
“I thought you were going to ask for some.” The man walked slightly faster. Ed matched his pace.
“I get that a lot.”
The man’s response was to stare straight ahead and keep walking. What other response could he have to the obviously crazy homeless man on his left?
“Not much of a conversationalist, are you?”
The man stopped and, for the first time, looked in Ed’s general direction. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know what your game is, but I’d appreciate it if you just left me alone. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Strained politeness is the hallmark of a successful city.
“Alone is the last thing you need to be right now.” Ed’s smile faded to a look of concern.
The man was speechless for several, long seconds. Was that pity? Was that really pity on the face of the bum, the vagrant, the reeking-waste-of-human-flesh? A life filled with insults, and now this, pity from garbage.
“I said….” The man’s voice trailed off. He forgot what he was going to say, forgot where he was going, and forgot why he wanted to get out of the vagrant’s presence. He was looking into Ed’s eyes, and something in them held the man, held him tight.
“I know what you said, sir. But you didn’t say what you really meant. You never say what you really mean, and never do what you say. You’re lost, William Henderson, a leaf on the wind. What’s worse, you’re losing them, losing them faster than you can imagine.”
When Ed said the word “them,” William saw his wife and thirteen year old son as clearly as if he held a photograph in his hand. How did the bum know his name? How did he… why did he… why? The questions ran together in his mind, but only silence came out of his mouth.
“You can’t do it, you know. Can’t win your wife’s love with the money you bring home or buy your son’s affection with promises that never get fulfilled. And you can’t hide the fact that you’re dead on the inside, not from them, not from family. They might not be able to verbalize it, but they know. They see it in your glassy eyes and hear it in your muted voice.”
“How?” William meant to say so much more, but only that one word came out. He was stuck in a trance. His feet felt like they were welded to the sidewalk. If that were it, if that were the extent of his problems, he could have dealt with it. The real problem was that the man was right, was dead on, but William didn’t know what to do about it. It’s no use pointing to the blood on the ground and telling a man that he’s bleeding to death if you’re not holding a bandage in your hand to fix the problem.
“It’s time to turn around, William. It’s time to stop pretending that you don’t know that there’s a problem. Because if you don’t turn around, if you don’t do it quickly, it’ll all come down around you. So here it is, William, here’s the opportunity that you’ve been waiting for. You’re drowning, and I’m going to throw you a lifeline. Are you listening, Will?”
William nodded slowly. He was coming out of it. Whatever invisible cords bound him, they were loosening.
Ed pointed down the street. His shadow pointed farther. “Go that way for three blocks, then take a left. You’ll know the place when you see it. The service will have started by the time you get there, but take a seat in the back anyway. Wait for the call. When you hear it, go forward.”
“And that will fix everything?” The sentence was said with a touch of sarcasm. The mesmerizing effect was almost completely gone, and William’s cynicism, constructed during years of life in the city, was surfacing rapidly.
Ed laughed. “No. Then you die. After that, you get to start living. Things might get even harder when you start living, but at least you’ll be alive. At least you won’t be a walking corpse anymore.”
William, now fully fortified by the mental and emotional walls that had deserted him so recently, wasn’t buying it at all. He was actually a little ashamed that he believed a single word of it. “You’re not making any sense at all, and I don’t have to stand here and listen to this,” William said as he turned to walk back the way he came, away from where Ed pointed.
Ed sighed. “It doesn’t make sense yet. Some things, some things you just can’t see from the outside.” He watched William walk away, each step taking him farther from Ed’s promised help. To no one in particular, Ed said, “A city full of dead people, all afraid of dying.”
Ed walked the streets of Seattle aimlessly. Blocks worth of sidewalk slipped beneath the well worn soles of his shoes. The few people he passed at this hour did not look him in the eye, tried to avoid looking at him entirely, truth be told. When you’ve slept outside for several weeks, you become less than human in the eyes of some.
“Can you spare a smile, sir?” he said to a passerby.
The business suit clad man glanced at him briefly, mumbled something about not having any change, and just kept on walking. Not even smiles come free in Seattle.
Standing just shy of six feet tall, Ed bore his thread bare clothes with something akin to dignity. His unkempt brown hair hung in shaggy clumps over his face, the back curled tightly over the collar of his once-white dress shirt. His eyes, those portions that were visible through the tangles of his hair, were a pale gray and disturbing in their clarity. They seemed to take the world in at a glance. With his hands clasped loosely behind his back as he walked, he almost looked like a scholar lost in thought. Only, in this case, the scholar was covered with the thin layer of grime that seems impossible to avoid on the street.
“It’s Sunday morning, ma’am. Shouldn’t you be on your way to church?” he asked another passerby.
The woman’s face hardened at the sound of that last word. With her eyes locked straight ahead, she charged past the rude bum.
“He still loves you,” Ed said to the woman’s back. “Even though you made your love for Him conditional.”
She slowed for one step, maybe two, but snapped her shoulders back, picked up her stride, and continued on without even a glance over her shoulder.
That one had potential, he thought. But, then again, they all had potential. Wasn’t that why he was here? It was them, the great washed masses, that brought him from the comfort of his home to this place, this world of concrete and steel.
The sun was working its way up the sky behind him, stretching his shadow to absurd lengths. He pulled alongside another morning walker.
“Pleasant morning for a walk.” Ed smiled as he looked over at the middle-aged man beside him.
The man took a step to his right, away from Ed. “I… I don’t have any money.” He didn’t look over.
“Neither do I so don’t bother asking. But I don’t see what that has to do with the morning.”
“I thought you were going to ask for some.” The man walked slightly faster. Ed matched his pace.
“I get that a lot.”
The man’s response was to stare straight ahead and keep walking. What other response could he have to the obviously crazy homeless man on his left?
“Not much of a conversationalist, are you?”
The man stopped and, for the first time, looked in Ed’s general direction. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know what your game is, but I’d appreciate it if you just left me alone. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Strained politeness is the hallmark of a successful city.
“Alone is the last thing you need to be right now.” Ed’s smile faded to a look of concern.
The man was speechless for several, long seconds. Was that pity? Was that really pity on the face of the bum, the vagrant, the reeking-waste-of-human-flesh? A life filled with insults, and now this, pity from garbage.
“I said….” The man’s voice trailed off. He forgot what he was going to say, forgot where he was going, and forgot why he wanted to get out of the vagrant’s presence. He was looking into Ed’s eyes, and something in them held the man, held him tight.
“I know what you said, sir. But you didn’t say what you really meant. You never say what you really mean, and never do what you say. You’re lost, William Henderson, a leaf on the wind. What’s worse, you’re losing them, losing them faster than you can imagine.”
When Ed said the word “them,” William saw his wife and thirteen year old son as clearly as if he held a photograph in his hand. How did the bum know his name? How did he… why did he… why? The questions ran together in his mind, but only silence came out of his mouth.
“You can’t do it, you know. Can’t win your wife’s love with the money you bring home or buy your son’s affection with promises that never get fulfilled. And you can’t hide the fact that you’re dead on the inside, not from them, not from family. They might not be able to verbalize it, but they know. They see it in your glassy eyes and hear it in your muted voice.”
“How?” William meant to say so much more, but only that one word came out. He was stuck in a trance. His feet felt like they were welded to the sidewalk. If that were it, if that were the extent of his problems, he could have dealt with it. The real problem was that the man was right, was dead on, but William didn’t know what to do about it. It’s no use pointing to the blood on the ground and telling a man that he’s bleeding to death if you’re not holding a bandage in your hand to fix the problem.
“It’s time to turn around, William. It’s time to stop pretending that you don’t know that there’s a problem. Because if you don’t turn around, if you don’t do it quickly, it’ll all come down around you. So here it is, William, here’s the opportunity that you’ve been waiting for. You’re drowning, and I’m going to throw you a lifeline. Are you listening, Will?”
William nodded slowly. He was coming out of it. Whatever invisible cords bound him, they were loosening.
Ed pointed down the street. His shadow pointed farther. “Go that way for three blocks, then take a left. You’ll know the place when you see it. The service will have started by the time you get there, but take a seat in the back anyway. Wait for the call. When you hear it, go forward.”
“And that will fix everything?” The sentence was said with a touch of sarcasm. The mesmerizing effect was almost completely gone, and William’s cynicism, constructed during years of life in the city, was surfacing rapidly.
Ed laughed. “No. Then you die. After that, you get to start living. Things might get even harder when you start living, but at least you’ll be alive. At least you won’t be a walking corpse anymore.”
William, now fully fortified by the mental and emotional walls that had deserted him so recently, wasn’t buying it at all. He was actually a little ashamed that he believed a single word of it. “You’re not making any sense at all, and I don’t have to stand here and listen to this,” William said as he turned to walk back the way he came, away from where Ed pointed.
Ed sighed. “It doesn’t make sense yet. Some things, some things you just can’t see from the outside.” He watched William walk away, each step taking him farther from Ed’s promised help. To no one in particular, Ed said, “A city full of dead people, all afraid of dying.”
Comments
The question is, of course, can you dance to it?
As for dancing, I'm pretty sure that if you read it just right you could kind of, almost, maybe... nope, I'm pretty sure you can't dance to it.