Billy had been a definite blessing to him; he had insisted on paying him a healthy wage, although the food, lodging, clothes, and tools he supplied seemed to be more than enough to him. Yes, not only had he given freely of his money, the family money Billy insisted, he had let him use the truck. Benji didn’t mind walking, but he could get so much more accomplished at the speed of traffic. He stayed at the jobsite, Bibb’s Place the contractors and delivery truck drivers called it, and he really didn’t ‘need’ to go anywhere, but The Trees seemed to be calling him. Or, maybe he was calling them, wanting them to change their rules of engagement and let him through early. Either way, when the hard work was done and he had showered and washed off the day’s dirt and drywall dust, the ride out to sit across from The Trees brought him closer to his emotional cocktail of peace and anticipation. Sitting in front of them was a sweet and sour sensation for him. “Like a lemon drop,” he said aloud as he gazed at the last of their leaves flittering with the light wind, just waiting for a strong blast to knock them to the forest floor to join the others. The ground was littered with the various shaped brown and yellow leaves masking the path to the past. “But, I’ll pass through yer wooden thighs in August,” he said lustily, “and then I’ll be the happiest man in the world: back home again.”
Ж
“Don’t say no to the truck yet. It ‘fits’ you better than me. And here, since you won’t take the bonus money, please take this. Jest in case ye get the urge to go faster than the speed of feet or wheels.” Billy handed Benji the airline charge card. “It’s good for anywhere they or any of their travel partners go. That means just about anywhere except Antarctica…and I’m not too sure about that.” Billy saw Benji’s blank look and added, “But, if you want to go there, just call the number on the back; I’m sure they can fix you up.”
Ж
A month later, Phoenix, Arizona
"Hmph!" Benji snorted. He wasn't a big fan of lazy people, but the man on the corner looked like he didn't have much choice. Or wasn't in a frame of mind to make one for himself. The tall, longhaired, bearded, and generally disheveled man in his 40's had a glassy-eyed look that made others turn away. Or maybe it was the sign: 'Vet—Please Help. Will work for food.' Benji stayed by the side of the bus station and watched as dozens of people walked by the, well, pathetic seemed cruel, but it was an apt description of the sorrowful man. He was obviously homeless. He had a military-style duffle bag with angular pieces in it. 'Probably tool box, kitchen, dresser, and linen closet all in one,' Benji thought.
Eventually, an elderly man with a well-trimmed beard and perky spring to his step walked up to the Vet. He patted the downtrodden sidewalk soldier on the shoulder, evidently giving him words of encouragement by his smile, slipped him what looked like a cigarette, patted the Vet’s shoulder again in parting, and called back the words, "Be safe," rather than issuing the traditional 'good luck' farewell that Benji had expected to hear.
Vet took the rolled up monetary cylinder, opened it out, and smiled when he saw that there were two bills involved. Benji couldn't see how much he had received, but from the look on his face, it was probably more than he had made all week. He rolled the bills back into their original shape and stuck them in the cigarette pack he pulled out of his shirt packet. Odd, Benji had been watching him on and off for hours and had never seen him smoke. The vet looked up at the sky and squinted so hard, his eyes disappeared into his weathered wrinkles. Benji wasn't sure, but he could just about swear he heard the man's stomach rumble from where he was. It looked like he'd have company for his evening meal.
"Hey, there!" Benji called out as he strolled up to the vet.
Vet's eyes immediately looked to either side, then he turned at the waist, looking to see if there was someone behind him. He didn't speak, but his eyes asked 'who, me?' as he glanced up quickly at Benji. He wasn’t used to being addressed by strangers.
"Yeah, you," Benji said brightly. "I've seen you out here for quite a while without taking a dinner break. Would ye care to join me for a bite to eat?"
Vet immediately put his hand up to his shirt pocket, instinctively protecting his little stash of cash. "No, dinna worry; it's my treat," Benji assured him. "Ye see, I havena any friends or kin around here and weel, I'd rather eat with someone than by myself. That is, if ye dinna mind the fare over at the all-you-can-eat buffet. Ye can have yer choice of Chinese, Mexican, Italian, American, and they even have a few of those little fishy cakes; what do ye call them? Sooky?” Benji joked; he knew what they were called.
"Sushi," Vet replied. "It's not too bad if there isn't anything else to eat but, um, you don't even know me, do you?"
"McCall, right?" Benji asked as he read the name on the vet's oversized jacket.
"I used to be," he answered glumly. "I mean, I still am, but I'm not in the army anymore."
"Weel, we're almost kin. I'm MacKay...we're both Mac's, aye?" The vet gave a weak half grin, but didn't move. "Come on, yer legs look like they're in good shape. I dinna have a car, so we'll have to pony shanks it over there. It's only a couple of blocks, if ye think ye can make it."
McCall nodded quickly then stooped to pick up his bag, stuffing his hand scribbled sign under his armpit. Benji thought about offering to carry the man's load, but realized that the vet might take it as an insult, that he was insinuating he was either too weak or feeble to take care of it himself. By the man's stance, he still had some dignity left, even if he had to beg on a street corner for work. At least he was willing to labor for his keep, which was more than some people.
Ж
The shunning started even before they reached the restaurant door. Mothers grabbed their children’s hands lest they get near the two men as they walked through the parking lot. The whispers were hard to ignore. “Make sure you stay real close to me. Don’t touch anything that he’s touched. Can you believe the nerve of him, coming in here? Come on; we’re going somewhere else.”
Benji heard all of the remarks and he knew McCall did, too, unless he was hard of hearing. One glance at his dinner date, though, and Benji knew; he not only heard them, but also had been subject to the scorn many times before. Benji started to apologize for the people’s rudeness, but McCall spoke first.
“I never get used to it. It’s like the bones in trout: you have to work around the worthless to get to the good. Ignoring what they say is the only way to handle it. They’re not bad people; they just don’t understand. Shoot, it’s me and I don’t understand,” he said. “Now, if you’ll watch my bag,” he said sternly, the look in his eye making Benji feel threatened, “I’ll clean up as best I can.”
“I’ll do more than watch yer bag, I’ll make sure it stays, and I’ll even see if I can teach it to sit,” Benji joked, trying to lighten the man’s dour demeanor.
McCall rolled his eyes. “It ain’t much, bro, but it’s all I have.”
The two filled their plates three times before deciding that they had eaten enough for one meal. “This is a nice place, but I really didn’t feel brave enough to come in here by myself. I told you that I ignore the whispers, and I do. At least they’re easier to overlook when I’m walking. When I’m sitting down to a meal, especially the first decent food I’ve had in a week, it’s hard not to hear the comments. I feel trapped when I’m inside as it is,” he added as he looked nervously at the windows, wishing he to be again.
“So, ye’d like to work outside, but there arena any jobs here?” Benji asked, although he knew that was what he had just heard.
McCall eyes squinted at Benji in answer: you know I did; get on with it.
Benji pushed away the last cleared off plate to give himself more room to speak. He always felt tongue-tied if his hands couldn’t move through the air with his words. “Ye see, I have some experience up in the oilfields of Alaska. It’s mighty tough work. Ye’d be inside to sleep and eat, but out in the air most of your shift. Ye work two weeks straight, at least twelve hours a day, sometimes more, before gettin’ a day off. They
give ye a warm bed to sleep in, more food than ye can imagine, and even have books to read and TV’s to watch if ye feel up to it after workin’ all day. Now, if ye think ye could handle the long flight up there and being cooped up for sleepin’, I’ll make a few phone calls and see if anyone up there is hirin’. It’s hard work, but I’ll bet yer used to that, aye?”
“Aye. I don’t think anything is harder than standing on a street corner with a cardboard sign, asking for work.” McCall sighed. He took a deep breath and said, “Yes, if you’d make the call or calls, I’d love to work hard. And, the cold doesn’t bother me. I had enough of the heat in two tours of Iraq. The one tour of Afghanistan didn’t last as long, but I did find out that the cold doesn’t bother me.”
“I’ll be right back then,” Benji said, and nodded to excuse himself.
When he got to the outside door, he looked back to make sure McCall hadn’t panicked and left through the window he had been eyeing so nervously. No, he wasn’t getting ready to take off, but he was a little self-conscious; he had put aside four dinner rolls and was rolling them up in a napkin to save for a later meal.
Benji pulled out the disposable cell phone and punched in the digits. Hopefully his friend hadn’t changed his phone number. He had a great memory for numbers and just about everything else. He credited his father with giving him the photographic memory gene, but he still couldn’t just pull a phone number out of the air if his old boss had changed numbers.
“Lynn, Lynn? Hi there, this is Benji. Yes, yes, I’m still that tall. I’m not so auld that I shrunk. I’d have to be at least 200 years old before I got to normal height.” Benji chuckled into the phone when he realized that he really was born over 200 years ago, but he couldn’t tell Lynn or anyone else that.
“I’m sorry, I missed what ye said. Me? Oh no, I’m not ready to come back. But, if yer lookin’ fer a big man with a strong back, I have a friend who’s lookin’ fer work. He’s a vet and as tough as they come. Yes, he’s smart, too. What do ye mean? Of course, he’ll listen to ye and take orders. I told ye he was a vet, dinna I? If I get him to Anchorage, will ye make sure someone picks him up at the airport and shows him around? Okay, when’s the next rig pass class? I’ll schedule the ticket for the day before. And make sure it’s one of yer buddies who picks him up. And get him into a decent motel, too. I dinna want him fallin’ asleep durin’ the classes. I mean, they arena the most exciting teachers, aye? No, he’s nae so tall as me, but he’s still plenty big. My cold weather gear is still in my locker, and he’s welcome to it. Ye jest be good to him, and he’ll be good to ye. And, ye willna have to worry about learnin’ a new name. He’s another Mac: McCall, but ye can call him Mac and he’ll answer. Okay, I’ll give him this phone, too, so ye can contact him at the number on the caller ID for more information. We’re jest finishin’ our dinner here, so give him a bit before ye call. Thanks, I owe ye one.”
Benji strolled back into the restaurant, beaming from ear to ear. It felt so good to help someone. He looked over and saw McCall sitting at their little table, grinning at the cute blonde toddler strapped in a high chair, smashing her saltine crackers, watching the bits and pieces fly everywhere while her mother chatted into her smartphone, totally ignoring her little charge’s misdeeds. Yes, the mother would probably learn too late that it would be wise to pay attention to her daughter and her bad behaviors now rather than wait until it was too late for the girl to listen and heed.
“Cute little lass, aye? I’ll bet she’s a handful,” Benji said.
McCall sighed deeply, his smile falling at his friend’s remarks. “Maybe if I can get my act together, I’ll have something to offer mine. She’s thirteen now and thinks she knows everything. My being gone overseas was hard on her and her mother. Laura never remarried, but works two jobs to try and give Shasta everything she wants. She didn’t want to listen to me tell her how to raise our daughter long distance. I just hope they realize that their time together is more important than all the ‘stuff’ that money can buy. A young daughter quickly outgrows her clothes and shoes, but should never outgrow the love and need for her mother.”
“Or her father,” Benji added. “She still loves ye. She’ll realize what’s important soon. In the meantime, ye’ve got a great job to go to, and if it’s the money they think they need, ye’ll have it. Ye’ll have two weeks at a time to go see and get reacquainted with them. It may be a month or two before yer ready fer them or them fer ye, but dinna lose hope. They are family, after all.”
Benji took a deep breath and changed subjects; he had unintentionally made himself uncomfortable talking about families and the need to reconnect with them. “Now that bein’ said, I got ye a job. All ye have to do is go to Anchorage and I’ll have a friend of a friend pick ye up and take ye to wherever ye need to go fer the job training classes. Ye can have my phone, its good fer a couple hundred minutes of talk time, and then when ye get to the jobsite, ye can have my locker. I left all my gear up there, so yer set.”
“Go to Anchorage?” McCall asked meekly. “How…”
“Oh, I got that covered, too. Right after dessert, I’ll call in fer the ticket. All ye have to do is take a bus to the airport tomorrow afternoon and yer ready to rock and roll; a new lease on life, or whatever it is they call it,” Benji added in mock insecurity. He didn’t want to appear too cocky in front of his new acquaintance.
“Why are you doing this?” McCall asked skeptically, ill at ease at getting so much for nothing.
“Weel, I guess because I can,” Benji answered truthfully. He shifted in his seat because he really hadn’t thought of it that way. “I mean, if ye could help someone out, wouldna ye?”
“Well, yes, I mean something simple like getting something off a top shelf or help carry a load…”
“Aye, and that’s what I’m doing: I’m helping ye carry a load. Now, if I was in yer shoes, and believe it or not, I’ve been mighty close, then I ken that I’d like a fairy godfather to come by and grant my wish fer a way out of my plight…”
“You’re an awfully big fairy.” McCall laughed and shook his head in amazement.
“Aye, that’s me: the great big fairy. Now, all this work gettin’ ye a job has made me hungry. How about some cherry pie?” Benji asked.
“Great idea; I’ll have mine a la mode. There’s a soft serve ice cream machine over there. I haven’t had that…” McCall sighed deeply and grinned as he realized that now he didn’t have to look back all the time—he could look forward. “Well, this is the first of many desserts that I’m going to treat myself to in this decade!”
Ж
Benji spent the rest of the evening at the park with McCall, sharing with him dozens of hints on how to handle the cold weather and the attitudes of some of the men who suffered from superiority complexes. “Pile on the layers of clothes, breathe through yer nose, not yer mouth, and dinna worry if someone says the wrong words. Toward the end of the hitch, the men, and they’re mostly men, get a little tense, missin’ their wives and girlfriends. And, if ye dinna understand how to do somethin’, make sure ye ask. The only dumb question is the one ye dinna ask.”
McCall listened and took to heart everything he was told, a contented grin on his face. He reached across his chest and pinched his hand; yup, he wasn’t dreaming.
“And here,” Benji said and handed him the phone and an envelope with six letters written on the front of it. “This is your confirmation code and a list of names. These are folks who will help ye if jest ask. Oh, and I threw in a couple of bucks fer the bus ride to the airport. Now, that bein’ said, is this where ye spend yer nights?”
“On clear nights I prefer to be outside in this place with the trees, trash, and dog poop to being inside at the shelter. That place reeks of alcohol, unwashed bodies, and frustration. It’s easier to wash off the stuff you roll in here at the park than the despair that gets under your skin there.” He shuddered then looked at Benji and asked with a smile, “Do you want to spend the night at my place? It ai
n’t much, but at least we’re here in the desert and not in cold country,” McCall said optimistically.
“Aye, that will come soon enough, but by then ye’ll have a wee small room to stay in and a nice warm bed, showers jest down the hall, and lots of food. But fer tonight, a rolled up jacket under my head in a Phoenix park will be jest fine.” Benji took off his jacket and arranged it under his neck. “We have enough time fer a few more stories then we need to get some shut eye.”
McCall felt better than he had in years. A friend, a full belly, and a job: a hat trick they called it in hockey, the Triple Crown in horseracing, a grand slam homerun in baseball. Maybe the nightmares would go away now. No, now the nightmares ‘will’ go away he decided emphatically. Those were based on a miserable past and a future that seemed futile. Now he had hope, and where there was hope, despair and depression couldn’t grow.
11 Edinburgh
Late October 2013
B enji took McCall’s advice and went to the Salvation Army Thrift Store for some bargains. “Oh, this is so right,” he said as he picked up the drab, light brown cotton hoodie. Size 3X, too.” He held it up to his chest and stretched the sleeves out, clutching the wristbands with fingers folded over. “Oh, yeah: my very own cloak of invisibility.”
“That’ll be five dollars, sir,” the clerk at the checkout counter said.
“Really? That’s all?” Benji asked then looked at the tag.
The Great Big Fairy Page 9