There is a planning meeting going on when they walk into the room. One is shorter, one is taller, one is Asian, and one is Caucasian. When the first, Dau, walks into the room, he is greeted with a warm reception. He hugs his friends and tehn joins the meeting for awhile. THe second, Billy, comes in later, and is greeted in the same way. Everyone, including myself, are happy to see them. We shout their names when we see them. Both are athletic, but not popular because of that or the way that they act when others are around or some other shallow thing--they are popular with others because they do not tear others down or act like they're the hest thing since sliced bread. Friends like that sometimes seem all too rare to me. And then, these particular two have to leave for college.
These friends come and go like waves on a beach. You and your friends stand out on the beach, where the ground dives underwater. You plant your feet in the damp sand and wait for the waves to come in. They come in full glory, seeming almost unstoppable. They calm down a little as they meet your feet, bringing a rush of coldness to them. There is a moment where the waves reach their highest point. They laugh with you and they talk with you. You can see them, hear them. Then they leave, back into the ocean, leaving you and your friends both sad and overjoyed at the same time. That is the way it feels talking to Dau and Billy. They came just three days ago, and soon they'll have to leave. They're going to be back soon--later in December--but the feeling remains. I guess the best thing to do is think about when they are there, instead of when they are away.
Addict on the Sidewalk / 10-30-2001
Walt walked quickly down the street, trying to make his next appointment. He needed to make that sale today. Along the way he tripped and fell onto the sidewalk. A homeless-looking man was nearby, smoking something illegal, and commented on Walt's misfortune. "Funny. Bigger they are, harder they fall. S'true, big boy."
"What's your point?"
The man inhaled whatever it was he was smoking, and kept going, ignoring Walt's question. "You know, you can't control when you fall. Kinda like with me. Had everythin' going, then I ran into Mr. Crack here. Couldn't resist 'im."
"I can control when I fall."
"Even if you were stronger than me..." the man paused and inhaled again. "Anything could happen. You could die anytime, anyplace, and never know what hit ya. You could lose everything on the stock market. Me, I lost everything on a drug. Now look at me. I'm worthless to anyone else."
Walt picked himself up and walked away, with the addict rambling on. He tried to push the addict's words out of his head, but couldn't. He knew the man was right, and unusually wise for someone like him. But maybe people like him weren't dumb just because of what they indulged in. Maybe people like him had just fallen prey to a bad addiction.
The next day, as Walt passed by the homeless man, he stopped. "Sir, you know they have rehab."
"Hardly ever been able to find a place. When I can, I can't get off my crack."
Walt thought for a moment, then said, "Yesterday, you said some things that hit me pretty hard. You said some things I never expected to hear from a guy like you. You changed me. I owe you something in return."
"Like what?"
"How about giving rehab another try? I'm going to help you. Visit you every day. Maybe you can get rid of this bad hand you picked up."
The homeless man paused, as if in deep thought, and then said, "It's a deal."