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Another Next Day
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Another Next Day |
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Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
The morning bus ride is usually a quiet and somewhat lonely ride. This Tuesday morning was no different. It was still a bit early for the business commuters of sectaries trying to look their prettiest on a budget and low level management types in cheap suits; this was the time of the manual workers. The maids for the hotels, low level line cooks going to start breakfasts, warehouse workers and construction workers like he was all converged on the vitalized section of the city. But the first part of the ride was not vitalized; the streets he was passing as he gazed out the smudged window were gasping and scraping at existence. Then all at once the city changed form drab row houses to tall buildings. Just by crossing a major street had changed the city to prosperity, or the look of prosperity. Even at this early hour there were people everywhere when he got off the bus before it heading out of the center of the city into the other side of despair. His stomach growled at him as he walked the few blocks to the construction site. He hoped that the foreman would let him get a cup of coffee so that he’d at least have something inside of him to help him make it through the day. Today was payday, cash money for a week of work. He was day dreaming about the food he was going to eat when he turned the corner to the construction site. The fence was closed. It was usually open by now and he wasn’t that early. He noticed the light on at the foreman’s trailer. He went over, knocked on the door and waited for the foreman to come to the door. “No work today.” The foreman said in a gruff voice, but when the foreman saw who it was continued in a quieter voice. “Oh, it you, sorry I thought it was one of the *non-documented*.” “No work? What about pay?” he asked the foreman as his stomach growled in loud protest. “I need the money.” “I ain’t got no cash box today.” The foreman sat on the step of the trailer and was looking him in the eye as he continued softly. “Just between me and you the site is closing down and all the cash workers are going to get stiffed. I guess the figure that the *non-documented* can’t argue since they can’t go yelling to the cops and get deported.” The foreman’s words slashed at his soul and he hung his head in shame of his further despair. Minutes passed as his spirit dropped. The foreman was a good if rough man and told him to wait a minute and went inside for a moment. “Here take this check; it’s on the petty cash account. Cash it as soon as the bank opens because by the end of the day it will be closed out. And here’s a twenty from me; you’re a good man working for half of what you should.” He thanked the foreman and left to wait for the bank to open at nine am so he had three hours to wait. He knew what he’d do first, eat! Except for the beef stick and half a fifth of whiskey to kill the pain, he’d eaten nothing of value for more than twenty four hours. The downtown diner was close by and open all the time so he went there. Coffee and a hearty meal filled his belly better than it had been in a week, but the check was for only two hundred dollars when it should have been for twice that. His wife wasn’t going to be very happy with so little. He lingered over a third cup of coffee as he pondered what he would have to do to make money. Rent was due next week and he didn’t have any of it yet, plus he was still owed last month’s rent. The waitress look like she wanted him to leave so she could get another customer, since turning the tables over was money to her. So he left giving her a small tip, which was more than he could afford. For the next two hours he waited at the bus stop occasionally walking around the block to look like he was going somewhere or doing something. He knew the drill since he’d been homeless before and probably would be again soon now that he didn’t have a job. The bank opened promptly at nine and he walked in slightly aware of his old dirty clothes and clunky shoes. When he went to the teller to cash the check she asked him if he had an account with the bank. Naturally he didn’t have an account; he didn’t have enough money to just keep an account in a bank. She told him he’d need an account and he went to the customer service person to open an account. Eventually they took the check, but gave him no money saying he’d have to wait for the check to clear and it would be available tomorrow. He did it, but thought to himself that the check wouldn’t clear and tomorrow he’d have no money except the left over from the twenty that the foreman had given him. The foreman probably knew the check would bounce and was a good person to give him the twenty. Riding the bus home worrying about money the entire way his spirit sank. His wife wasn’t going to be pleased. When he walked up to his house a police car was in front of his place and soon as he turned toward his door two police got out and walked toward him. He turned to face them and waited for them to speak. “Mister Smith?” One of the policemen asked. The other turned out to be a police woman, although she actually looked tougher than the man. “Yes.” He responded. He thought quickly about what law he could have broken and got nervous even knowing he’d done nothing. But lack of guilt meant little in the bottom of town. “It’s about your wife.” The police woman said as she came around the patrol car in a voice that was much kinder than she looked. She looked hard and her voice sounded soft. “She’s probably inside still asleep.” “No,” the police woman said, “she is in the hospital in intensive care.” “She was shot last night.” The police man said. He sat down hard on the stoop. He was dazed. He began to cry as they helped him into the police car to go to the hospital. Gloom |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Well, she isn't going to be mad about the money then...lol sorry, didn't like her character... Great next chapter... "too bad ignorance isn't painful" |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Dear Gloom, it can hardly get any more dark and sad. Again you created a very vivid story that I could immediately record in my mind because of the intensity of the emotions. Made me think, that though it seems so unfair, it often happens that negative, sad events happen more frequently to people who are already in despair. It is difficult for them to expect positive events, so they attract even more of the negative ones. So he sat down and cried. This too is certainly true to reality. Though where there are heavy conflicts, sometimes both partners involved wish the other to "get out of the scene" in an attempt to be at peace. And this is what your character actually wanted in the first part. He got what he wanted, she went out. But then when he learns of the crime and of her staying at the hospital, he instantly cries ... Such tears hold such an amount of different causes, that they are difficult to analyze. Relief that he won't be confronted with her anger because of the money? Self pity for all the bad things that happen to him? Tears of exhaustion when the world really seems to fall apart and you don't know how to climb up the stairs again. I will certainly continue to read if you post the sequel, dear Gloom. Love, Margherita "Love is the One who masters all things; |
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Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
Thank you, Susan, The money problem no longer exist because one anguish Outweighs the other. The glimpse of the character and you don’t like her; Perhaps I can give greater detail in the next part Insight to her humanity. Thank you, Margherita, I thank you for your support; A fine example of being careful what you wish for. Gloom |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Knowing there is definitely more to the story, I await. Sometimes we are followed by an air of negativity although I don't believe it is caused by one's position in life necessarily but just happenstance for the moment ( from one who knows)  M |
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