Walter The Homeless Man

by Tekoa Manning

  The television was on in the next room, and it was just about time for the evening news. Joshua ate his dinner and walked into the living room just in time to see his friend Walter on the screen, “Mom! Bradford! Walter is on TV come look, hurry!”

  Desiree rushed into the living room with Bradford and her grandmom close behind. “And now we take you to the downtown center for the homeless. We are coming to you live with Jennifer Cobb. Hello, Jennifer.”

  “Yes, Tom, I’m here with Sarah Flags, she has worked as director of the kitchen here at the 7th street homeless shelter for nearly nine years. What can you tell us about the escaped convict, Walter Kendal?”

  “Well Jennifer, Walter was a lovely man who never ate a meal for free. He arrived at our shelter six days a week, washed dishes, mopped floors and helped prepare sandwiches and soups for the day. If there was anything broken, Walter fixed it. He was the handiest person we’ve ever had here. The truth is Jennifer, most folks here miss Walter and his pet pigeon. We just can’t imagine what he could have done to merit being wanted by the police.”

  “Well, you heard it here first Todd. This escapee it seems, is also a man very much missed.”

  “Thank you Jennifer, and we will keep you updated on the man who escaped from Floyd Memorial Hospital. The sixty-seven-year-old suspect was last seen wearing dark blue slacks and a white button-down dress shirt. If you have any information please contact the numbers on your screen.”

  The Officer

  Chapter 28

  Brenda walked into the kitchen and placed Sam’s leash on the hook above the laundry door. She felt better after a brisk walk in the cold air and her mind seemed clearer. She threw a pillow off the sofa, plopped down, picked up the remote control, and flipped through the channels, wondering how this all would end. Burt was napping on the lounge chair and the coffee pot had gotten cold. She decided she needed another pot and was just rinsing out the grounds when the doorbell rang startling her German Shepherd and making Burt jump. Brenda turned the door handle and told the officer she’d be right with him after she put up her dog. He was holding up a badge with one hand and his other hand was resting on his gun holster. He smiled crookedly and shifted his eyes from her to Sam.

  The officer took a seat on the sofa, and Brenda offered him a cup of coffee that she hadn’t even begun to brew yet. He was young, nervous and eager to take notes on his small spiral notepad. He spoke in a falsely deep voice and a manner that implied he was important. He even cleared his throat and made his eyebrows arch to add to the overall effect. “My name is uh uhu mmm, Officer Floyd and as I’m sure at this point you are aware Mrs. King, that your father is an escaped criminal. My job, Miss, is to see if you can help me, uh umm, help me find him.”

  Brenda nodded her head and wanted to scream, “Cut the crap and the ‘miss’ talk and just ask your questions.” He couldn’t have been over twenty-five and she was quite sure she could out shoot him.

  “Well, Mr. King and Mrs. King, I hate to do this but do you care if I take a umm,” he cleared his throat again, “look around the place?”

  “Of course not, Mr. Floyd,” Burt said, “Look away.”

  “It’s Officer Floyd,” he said, arching his brow again to imply we better be on our toes. Brenda was thankful for the police and she knew their job was difficult, to say the least. She highly respected them, but something about this officer irked her. Maybe it was the fact that she was worried sick about her father and the whole situation.

  Brenda walked to the kitchen and placed a coffee filter in the pot and dumped an extra scoop in the filter; she figured she was going to need it by the looks of things. Hell, she hadn’t smoked since her mother’s funeral, but she just might make Burt go buy her a pack. Burt led the police officer throughout the house and asked him if he wanted to see the room with Sam in it, who at this point was barking uncontrollably. He said it was alright, but Burt decided he’d put Sam outside and let him take a peek so there would be no doubt. About that time the phone rang and it was Daniel. “The police are here now,” she said in a whisper, “have you heard anything?”

  “Not yet Brenda, but I’m sure I will.” He had started to come to her house and bring the twins and fill them in on the truth about Sandra but had gone back home defeated and unsure of what to do.

  “Yep, they are here or I should say Barney Fife is here!” He chuckled and for a minute, she missed him and even felt sorry for the way Sandra had him enslaved. I mean really she can’t even watch the children while my brother is at work, she thought. While here I sit with no children wishing I could fill my days with finger painting and book reading. Brenda sighed and walked to the cabinet and grabbed a coffee cup, “I’ll keep ya posted Daniel, and you call me if you hear anything.”

  “Okay, Sis,” he said, “will do,” and then he said, “Brenda . . . I love you.”

  She was not expecting that. Brenda hadn’t heard those words from him even at her mother’s funeral. “I, I love you too,” she said sounding a lot like the officer who kept clearing his throat.

  Officer Floyd took a seat again and asked Brenda and Burt when they had last seen Walter. He asked if he had ever been accused of hurting or sexually abusing a child. Just the words made Brenda squirm. She just couldn’t imagine her father ever doing anything to harm anyone, let alone an innocent child. She had so many emotions running through her right now, they were hard for her to get a handle on. Part of her wanted to hug her father and comfort him wherever he was, another part of her wanted to shake him. She ran her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes. Her skin was blotchy again and she felt like this was all a bad dream.

  “I’m going to be leaving you two now. Remember, any information that you may have forgotten to tell me or any places or people that you think your father may have contacted, don’t hesitate to let me know. We’ll be monitoring all your incoming calls. A tracer will be added, with your permission of course.” He raised his eyebrows as to see if there was any protest and then nodded his head. “And of course, there will be a police car patrolling the area.”

  Officer Floyd raised up from the sofa then and stood up rigidly stiff, and cleared his throat one last time, straightened his hat and looked at Burt with a serious expression, “If you hear anything Mr. King, or see any strange vehicles don’t be indecisive, just call.” He held out a business card and made his way down the porch to his patrol car.

  Brenda looked at Burt and rolled her eyes, “Police Academy,” she said with a grin, “Well Andy?” He grabbed her from the side and pulled her to him, “Marlboro lights?” He said.

  “How did you know?” Brenda smiled and headed to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

  Conversations With God

  Chapter 29

  Walter awoke with the sun beating down in his eyes and a repeated tug on his shoulder. “Clay, Clay, we gotta talk ole timer.”

  Walter glanced around the semi and tried to focus on Buddy, but the truth was he was tired. He had never felt so tired. The whole experience, he guessed, was catching up with him. He couldn’t figure out why he was calling him by the name Clay, and then reality started to click into place. They were pulled over in the back parking lot of a truck stop, and Walter could tell by the wild look in Buddy’s eyes that it was not going to be good news for him.

  “Clay, I know we talked a small good bit about you and your past and how you ended up on the side of the road with your thumb out, but I need to know if your real name is perhaps, Walter Kendal?” His face was red and blotchy and he looked like he was about to explode. “And tell me please,” he threw his hands up in the air, “if it was you who just escaped from the hospital this morning?” His eyes stared at Walter piercingly. His hands were shaking and Walter could tell he was not comfortable with him being in his truck. Walter figured he might as well fess up. He’d never been good at telling lies and then more lies to keep up with the first. He eased out of the cab and Buddy followed him to the rear.

  “Yep Buddy, it’s tru
e, I am Walter Kendal and I am wanted by the police. I am sorry if I have been dishonest with you, it’s just, it’s just I don’t know where to turn or what to do.” Walter lowered his head and shook it back and forth in disbelief. He wished he would have died first and Ruthie would have lived, then none of this would be happening. “I never hurt that boy. I have children and two precious little grandchildren. They were little, but it’s been over a year now since I’ve seen them.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry Buddy you don’t need this. I thank you for breakfast and for the ride.”

  Buddy studied Walter suspiciously and tried to discern whether he was being completely honest. Walter could tell he was going to have to open up a lot more if he was going to get anywhere. But Walter was too weary, he turned and started walking down the parking lot towards the restrooms, he had to go something terrible, and he had cotton mouth rather fierce. He was so tired of fighting. This was no way to live life, he thought to himself, and no way to feel. He might as well turn himself in and let them do whatever they wanted with him. He tried to leave so he wouldn’t involve his children, and now he was sure they’d seen him on the news, probably even had the police contact them.

  He unzipped his pants and waited for his bladder to work. It seemed to get slower each day and a little painful too. As his urine trickled and started to flow he began to pray. He thought maybe he shouldn’t pray while he was using the latrine, but it felt right. “God, it’s Walter again, I know I haven’t talked to you in some time, and I probably have even been angry at you for taking my Ruthie. You know God, I just figured why do you need her anyways? You got all those angels and plenty of people there and I, well, she was all I really had.” He stopped talking for a minute and tried to not cry. Men don’t cry. That’s what he had always heard, not real men anyway, but as hard as Walter swallowed and choked back he could not stop the tears. They seem to come from some dry place that needed watering. He remembered his mother used to always tell his father, who had referred to Walter as a sissy boy for crying, that even Jesus wept. He wondered why Jesus, the very Son of God would weep? He had forgotten most of that story, but he knew it had something to do with a friend dying. Jesus was able to raise him from the dead. If only I would have had that power, thought Walter. Walter wandered back to the reality of his dilemma and began to pray again.

  “Anyways God, I have really gotten myself in a mess and it’s so big Lord, I know there ain't no way I can get out of it.” He leaned back and let each drop of urine out, then zipped his trousers and walked to the sink, looking into the mirror he continued his conversation. “Lord, if you can help me out of this, I will serve you the rest of my short days. I will do whatever you ask of me.” His eyes peered into the mirror searching the truth of his very own soul. Walter wondered where the years had gone and then he realized he should probably ask God to forgive him for his anger and thank him for the good years and the joy he had with his children. He studied his unshaven face and his hair which now looked as if he was a member of a hardcore biker club. He rinsed his mouth with water from the sink and splashed some on his face, then dabbed his hands and face on the paper towel and took a deep breath. “It’s all in your hands,” he said in a soft voice as he pulled open the door.

  Walter walked out of the restroom and started towards the restaurant. He didn’t know why because he had no money. As he was just about to step inside the doorway, he heard Buddy’s voice behind him. “Hey Clay, uh, Walt, uh look here, maybe we could talk about this. I don’t feel right just leaving you here and anyways you have been nice company. I know you lost your wife and I know you been sick or you wouldn’t have been in the hospital. Now let’s get a bite and you can fill me in on what’s really going on, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Walter looked up at the ceiling and said thanks under his breath. They picked a booth in the back, and Walter was so hungry he figured at this point if Buddy was going to help the first thing he could do was feed him. He looked at the menu and just the pictures of cheeseburgers and fries made him salivate. He had barely eaten at the hospital and was trying to be nice earlier due to his lack of money, but right now he had decided that this could be his last meal outside of jail. He was going to order the biggest, juiciest cheeseburger on the menu, triple decker if they had it and the whole works, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, pickles, heck, he wanted fries and a strawberry milkshake too. But Walter knew that was wishful thinking. On second thought, Walter decided with his sugar levels and the trouble he’d had lately, to stick with a more traditional meal, roast beef and mash potatoes and gravy. He thought he’d have some dinner rolls and a salad as well. His mouth continued to water as Buddy asked the server for a cup of coffee and a BLT. Walter was expecting him to order a plethora of food like he had earlier, but Walter was determined to get whatever he wanted. From now on, he said to himself, I am living my life to the fullest and with or without Ruthie, I am going to try and make every second count!

  He placed his order and Buddy looked at him and grinned. “You hungry, or what?”

  Walter knew when Buddy smiled that his eyes showed he believed him, and Walter felt like he had dropped a heavy load, after talking with God and clearing his tear ducts. He felt like even if he were handcuffed and taken away that very second, he would be alright.

  Walter looked up at Buddy and said, “Do you want the short version or the long one?” Before Buddy could answer Walter asked a question. “Buddy, have you ever made a mistake that was really foolish and then that mistake created the snowball effect and before you knew it you were rolling downhill, out of control with one bad decision after another? Ever notice how all it takes is one day and one decision to change your whole life?” Once again before Buddy could answer, Walter was on to explaining how he had arrived on the highway with his thumb stuck out. Buddy had been so engrossed in the details about Ruthie and the horrible effects of her disease, that by the time he started talking about Josh and Jackie he believed in Walter, hook line and sinker.

  “Well, Walter, I guess we need to get you some clothes and a haircut if you’re going to be riding with me.” He smiled and shook his head, “You know I have done some pretty dense things in my day. Some things that if I’d been caught, I’d been locked up for sure, but this one takes the cake!” He continued smiling as Walter sopped up the last of his gravy with his bread. He shoved one last bite in his mouth before he and Buddy went to the store aisle on the other side of the restaurant. Buddy purchased hair clippers, razors, shaving cream and a pale blue sweatshirt. Walter went back to the men’s room and stood before the mirror he’d cried in front of earlier. He raised his hands in the air and said, “Thank you, God!” He splashed water on his face and lathered up. After shaving he plugged the clippers in and added a number three attachment to the end of the shears and began shaving his long gray coarse hair. With each row of hair that fell into the sink, Walter felt like he was leaving behind his old life and lightening his load even more.

  Walter, like Benjamin, couldn’t pinpoint why, but he felt as if his life was beginning to look up. He pulled off the white dress shirt of a dead man named John and pulled over his head the new light blue sweatshirt Buddy had bought him. He picked up the handfuls of gray hair out of the sink and threw them in the trash bin, then rinsed out the sink.

  He was now ready to face whatever came his way. He looked once again in the mirror and was surprised to see a familiar face he once knew. Walter chuckled and with his stomach tight as a tick and his face cleanly shaven, he walked out of the restroom a brand new man. He walked to the back of the truck stop where buddy’s big rig with the flames had been parked, but the space was peculiarly empty. He looked high and low and up and down the whole area of Sander’s Truck Stop, but his friend Buddy was nowhere to be found.

  The Angel

  Chapter 30

  Desiree and Bradford loaded up Josh and Tabitha and headed back to her place. It was a quiet ride and there was a lot on everyone’s mind, including Josh. He kept askin
g his mother why Walter was on TV, but no one seemed to give him an answer that made any sense. He knew something was wrong and kept asking his mother if she was mad over Walter wearing his father’s suit. But whenever he said anything about it, she just told him to hush-up. Why were adults always trying to get him to quit talking, he hated that. Why did they seem to think little kids did not know as much as them, it didn’t make sense. Josh knew a lot more than they did about Walter and about why they were mad, but they never would listen to him. He couldn’t wait to get home and put Jackie in her bird bath. It had been a good day and he was tired from all the places they had been. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep in the back of the Jeep, next to Tabitha’s car seat.

  Josh was thinking about Walter and how he hoped he was okay when he drifted off into a dream that was very different than any other dream he had ever had. It seemed so real but not like anything here on Earth. In his dream, there was a lady and she was very great. Josh had never seen anyone that tall before. Her hair was crimson and long. Her dress was so white it hurt his eyes to look at it, and it had a large sash that was made of golden rope. She smiled and motioned for him to come with her. He was leery at first, but then she opened a large gold purse and let him look inside; Jackie was sitting peacefully inside her handbag cooing softly. Josh was still reluctant to come, but she then took him by the hand. Her hand was very warm and as he took it they began to fly. Josh had never flown or been so high above before. He looked down at fields, homes, mountains and streams and then he noticed the lady had huge wing like feathers, which gave her the ability to fly.

  They landed softly in a field that Josh had been to plenty of times; it was at the park by his school. Her feet had touched the ground so smoothly; it was as if they had settled on top of the clouds. She then handed him the large purse like bag that held Jackie and said, “Release her.” Josh shook his head from side to side, clutching the bag tighter. He looked down at Jackie’s shimmery green neck and pale blue-grey feathers. The birds head bobbed up and down. Then she said it again, only, this time, more sternly, “You must set her free.”