Short Story: New Shoes
The worst feeling in this world isn’t physical pain, nor is it the fear of death. I am certain of it that it is shame – shame in losing everything that you wanted, shame that you have to beg for charity to survive, shame that people walk past and look the other way, not even acknowledging your existence. It’s always troubled me: If a tree falls in a forest and there’s no one there to hear it, does it still make a sound?
There’s no other way though. Trust me, I’ve
tried to get housing and income support. No can do. It doesn’t really work when
you don’t have a house or a job to begin with. So this is what I have to resort
to and I’m sure I’m not the only one doing so.
None of these people are going to give me
anything for free, I know that. Like a job, you need to do something to get
something – its glorified trade after all. I used to be one of them, I
understand. Surprising, huh?
A bucket sits in front of me on the
pavement, empty like it was hours ago. I sigh and kneel in front of the bucket that
I found at the back of a restaurant, abandoned by its owners (much like me),
and bow my head touching the floor and hiding my face. I can’t bear to see the
way they look at me.
I kneel there, unmoving and undeterred.
Anything, anything is good. Every time, I hear the clink or clank of coins
rattling as they land into my bucket I secretly wish them a good life and thank
them under my breath. I know it’s rude that I don’t actually say thanks to them
or don’t look back up to them but my pride prevents me from doing so. I’m
kneeling on the ground, what’s more demeaning then that? To be fair though, my
pride is the only thing that has kept me alive for all this time…
Hours pass and I decide it’s time to check
on the charity that I have received. Even though I hate doing so, I am still
thankful nevertheless. I reach for the bucket in front of me and look into the
cavity. $2.35.
Thank you.
I grab the collection of spare change and
put it in my pocket, saving it for a later date. I would have to go hungry again
but it wasn’t like it was the first time. Sleep often does the trick of
ignoring those pains inside – they don’t call it break “fast” for no reason.
“Excuse me, sir”. I awake. No one has even
tried to speak to me in months. My eyelids, as they open, reveal a middle-aged
woman dressed in what seemed to be black plants and a red, frilly dress.
Extravagant some may call it but I want to call it comforting, it was a sore
sight to see in months. She knelt down next to me, plastic bags dangling from
her arm. Should I just take it and run? It would be so easy…
No. I can’t. She probably worked very hard
for that money and I can’t just treat her like that, not since she’s the only
person willing to approach me. “Are you hungry? I just went to buy a bread roll
at the nearby bakery and I accidentally bought two, I don’t want to throw it
away so I thought, maybe, you might want to eat something with me?”
I couldn’t say a word, so I just nodded,
hoping that my eyes perpetuated my gratitude and thanks. I knew she didn’t buy
anything extra, she just didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t offend me. She
sat down next to me, not saying a word that she had to sit on the cold and
blackened floor. She just handed me one of the bags she was holding and began
eating out of her own one. I bowed my head to her again in thanks and
unravelled the plastic to reveal a crisply roasted roll.
The first bite was almost as if I was a
traveller from a foreign land. There were all these flavours that seemed so
familiar but seemed so distant to what I would call my staple. It wasn’t the
best tasting thing out there but it was the best I could wish for.
We both sat in silence, looking at the cars
rushing off to home, to their families and their warm and insulated houses. We
sat here in the cold as the wind picked up. It was going to be a chilly one, I
could tell.
Coincidentally, we both finished at the
same time and she thanked me for giving her my time. As she was walking away,
she paused and turned. “One more thing” she said. She dropped the final bag
that had hung off her arm and left, thanking me once more. I tried to speak but
no words would come out. Oh how I wish I could thank her.
I reach for the box, pulling at the plastic
– to reveal a box of new shoes. I looked down at my feet and could see what she
probably saw on her way to work. My shoes had started to wear out and a
noticeable hole had started to form underneath my soles, I didn’t even notice
but somehow she discovered so before me. Thank you, I say again, under my
breath.
The next couple of days were the worst in
terms of donations. I literally received nothing. I can’t complain, they didn’t
have to give me anything, there was no obligation.
It’s in times like these that a free
newspaper such as the MX adds so much entertainment value in my life. As I
slipped a free paper, I flipped to the gossip section, an area that brought
back memories when I used to be one of them.
“Warning: To those who give money to the
homeless man that hangs around near the train station. DON’T. He’s wearing new
shoes and I saw him eating a giant bread roll the other day – he’s probably
scamming us all – scammersbescamming”
At this moment I could feel nothing for
myself. I didn’t mind that she said those harsh words, no. I wondered what the
red frilly extravagant woman would be feeling right now – how she probably felt
guilty for helping me. It wasn’t her fault; she was being kind and generous. It
was the most I’ve seen in years.
The next day, I rushed for the MX, flipping
back to the gossip section, wondering what everyone was thinking about me.
Would they all really stop providing me with charity as I tried to work out
what to do with my life?
It was there that I saw her again. No, not
a picture of her or the real her but her message.
“@scammersbescamming on MX Tuesday who told
everyone to stop giving out charity to those in need. Sure he has new shoes but
that’s because I bought it for him. That roll you saw him eating, I ate it with
him, and we shared a meal. Don’t prejudge this man before you meet him. He
doesn’t talk much but he’s still a human being and he isn’t in the best
situation right now – wishingforabetterworld”
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