005 The disciple Part 1
‘Kid, nobody should ever die alone.’
This was the warning that the Painted Man gave me before he disappeared. Back then, I was new at this. I was still no kid, mind you. But he always treated me like I was. This was about six months ago. But I’m still on the streets. I haven’t heeded his warning. And I’m still gonna die alone. The Painted Man means well. He just doesn’t understand.
I’m homeless.
I left home with only a bag of clothes and the cash that I managed to borrow from my parents. I couldn’t live there anymore. They were going to kill me. I know this. I don’t know how but I just do. It’s not like I hear voices, but sometimes I just know things. And so I left. A new city. A new life. A night in a bus shelter.
I met the Painted Man my first week on the street. He said to me ‘you’re homeless, you’re either sick or stupid.’
I said I was neither. He said ‘I can teach you to not be so stupid.’
And so he did. I’d see him most days. He’d tell me how to get fed. How to keep warm. How to stay alive, basically. We told each other stories. He said it didn’t matter if they’re true or not. I told him about how my parents want to kill me. I told him about how I know things. He told me he was Elvis. He told me how he faked his own death. He told me that ten years ago, he had lost an Elvis look-alike contest to a Japanese Elvis impersonator named Takeshi.
‘Kid, the truth don’t matter much. My myth has become bigger than I am. Imagine waking up one day to find your parents prefer to have your next door neighbour’s kid over you in their house.’
Every one of his stories ends with a moral or at least some sort of point. My stories end with ‘so kill me now.’ I don’t actually mean that, mind you. Sometimes I do. But I’m smart enough to know that if I really wanted to be dead, it couldn’t be so hard. But I just say it.
My friend, the Painted Man, is old. He has tattoos all over his body. On his arm he has one that says ‘arm’. On his forehead is one that says ‘head’. He has ‘leg’ written in green on his left leg and ‘neck’ with faux embossing on the right side of his neck. I asked him once why he had all those tattoos done. He said ‘I like to tell it like it is.’
He said ‘Kid, I don’t have a name no more. But at least some parts of me still do.’
He said ‘Kid, go home.’
He said ‘Kid, nobody should ever die alone.’
And the next day he didn’t come to see me. And I haven’t seen him since. That was a month ago.
I know now why the Painted Man befriended me. I know now because he is gone. And I am alone and bored. I needed help. He needed the company. He said once ‘what is friendship but the mutual fulfillment of needs?’ I said I didn’t know. He said ‘you weren’t meant to answer that kid – it was rhetorical.’
It’s what kills you, you know. It’s not the cold. Or the wet. Or even the danger. There are ways around all of that. But boredom can’t be beat. You wake up to a bright warm sunshiny day. But you have nothing to do. No money to spend. No food to snack on. No decent place to take you in.
So kill me now.
For the past week I’ve been passing time with a big bag of porn that I found lying by the side of the road. At nights, I’m in public bathrooms jacking off to Chinadolls. To Jane Lee, 18 year-old high school student (who suspiciously looks at least 25), being taken advantage of by her PE teacher. Or it might be Victoria. Russian, 23, double D. Enjoys dancing and singing. Likes tall brawny men. Turned off by arrogant and superficial men. Her wish is that a man could appreciate her as much he can appreciate his power tools.
Victoria smiles at me. One hand playing with her left nipple. The other between her legs. I take it she’s shy.
Trust me when I say that there is not a sadder sight than a homeless man getting off on discarded porn.
This is what passes for a life.
So kill me now.
This is me crying by the side of the street.
This is the heavens opening.
This is the rain.
This is my god crying for me.
These are two young women with backpacks, a book, an umbrella
This is one of them extending her hand to me.
This is her smile.
This is my life being saved.
