Good Sam

Good Sam

With today's society and it's everchanging landscape, life dictates that we must be aware of our surroundings. We tend to watch the people that could possibly have a chance to affect you in a negative manner or change the way in which we live. That's why on this very Thursday evening, I did a cautious double take of the guy that walked into the grocery store in front of me. I don't know what it was, but there was something about him that wasn't right, and it gave me an uneasy feeling.

His face was hidden and unrecognizable under the trucker's cap and hood from the sweatshirt he wore. His feet appeared to be soaked, as his old worn Puma sneakers made squishing, flopping sounds on the tiled floor of the grocery store. His small slight frame was covered with oversized jeans and an oversized hoodie, while strapped to his back was a beat-up old backpack that had seen better days. Over everything else that he was wearing, was one of those cheap see through yellowish, dollar store rain ponchos. As hard as they tried to keep the wearer dry, they failed.

The store wasn't one of the larger Super Centers that people seemed to flock to, but it had everything that I needed, and to many people's relief, it also had security.

Doing the job that he is paid to do, the guard stopped the guy in front of me, pointed to the "NO BACKPACKS" sign and held out his hand. He told the wearer that it would be waiting for him at the front when he was done shopping. Without any argument, buddy placed it into a plastic tray, handed it over and grabbed one of the handheld carry baskets.

After leaving the produce section we parted ways, each heading in our own directions. We did pass one another in a couple of different aisles and at one point I noticed him sliding, of all things, dental floss into his pocket. I know that theft costs us all in the end, but I wasn't about to rat someone out of taking a $2.00 spool of string.

With my cart full of supplies for the upcoming week, I headed toward the cashier. As luck would have it, my new focus of attention was in front of me in line and was unloading his basket. I was surprised by the contents of his shopping excursion, four bananas, four cans of tuna, four apples, a bag of no name fake Oreo's, and a two-pound bag of the washed and peeled mini carrots.

I had read this guy completely wrong. He wasn't some kind of horrible, thieving criminal, he was homeless.

When the cashier told him the total was $17.84, it caused a small bit of alarm as he had what appeared to be only $15 in his hand. Setting the cash down, he scoured his pockets looking for any loose change that would help even up the tab.

Being brought up in a family where most of the time, we were down on our luck, makes you feel like helping whenever you can. Peeling $10 off of my small roll of bills, I handed it to the cashier. She didn't bat so much as an eyelash, but the little guy softly said, "It's okay, I'll put something back", but it was already too late. The cashier had scooped up the cash, printed off the receipt and was handing back the change. The little guy in front of me, and I keep saying little guy because I stood a good 10 inches taller than him and was probably a hundred and twenty-five pounds heavier, turned to hand me the change.

I looked down and felt a prang of sadness. His tiny thin hand was dirty, shaking and shriveled from the rain. "No you keep it. Use it for something else next time." The tone of my voice must have sold him because he pocketed the cash, grabbed his bag, along with his backpack and disappeared.

My total was significantly higher than the customer before me, of course I had a fifty-pound bag of dog food and a ten-pound box of dog treats for Duke in there along with my own groceries.

Lightning flashed through the grey dreary sky, shortly before thunder clashed like a thousand stomping horses. The rain was picking up and with the cold early spring air, it was going to be another shitty night to be outside.

I took very little time to throw my stuff into the backseat of my truck and run the cart back to the holding bin, but when I reached the front seat it was already too late, I was soaked. Cursing my luck, I turned the ignition and backed out of my stop.

The wind and rain pelted my windshield as the wipers thumped their steady tune. Driving in this shit was never a favorite of mine. Truth be told, I'd rather drive in snow. It's just something about rain that chills me to the bone.

Driving past Beamer Park, another round of lightning lit up the sky and out of the corner of my eye I saw something that alarmed me. I knew instantly what it was, but I didn't want to admit it, so I kept driving. 100 yards had passed by. 200 yards and then 300. Shit.

My conscience had always got the better of me and tonight would be no different. Pulling a U-turn on the deserted, rain swept street wasn't a problem. I backtracked up the wet asphalt, pulled another U-turn and hit the brakes. Not that far off the street was a blue fiberglass tarp flapping in the wind. It did little if anything to protect the person wearing the yellowish rain poncho from the rain that battered it from all sides.

I rolled down the passenger side window and honked my horn. Nothing. The guy just sat there with his head down. Another honk and still nothing. After the third honk I yelled out, "Buddy, let's go." Man, this Good Samaritan shit isn't all that it's cracked up to be.

Ah, the hell with it. I was already soaked from the rain at the parking lot, so what was a little bit more. I sprinted across the grass up to the homemade hut. "Buddy let's go. It's gonna be really shitty for the next few days. You can sleep in my garage if you don't want to sleep in the house. At least you'll be dry and out of this crap." Still no movement. "Look, I'm not some kind of psycho. All I'm doing is offering you someplace warm and dry for a couple of nights. I've been homeless. I know what it's like."

His arms moved, so I knew that he was still alive. "Look man, I saw you at the store. You're already soaked to the bone and shaking. Stay out here and you'll be staying wet for the next week." Still no movement. "Your call, but in two minutes I'm drivin away. Take it or leave it. Your choice."

Walking back to my truck, I was angry at myself for how wet I was and wished for a second that I lived in Arizona or at least kept a rain poncho in my truck. My work boots were soaked right through to my socks and I needed them for my shift tomorrow. Everything else I was wearing was a write off. Unless I planned on putting everything in the dryer, it would take the weekend for it to dry.

Both doors on my truck slammed shut at the same time. Looking over at my new house mate, I noticed that buddy held his backpack tight to his chest and shivered as I put the truck into gear. The six-minute drive to my house, was a silent affair.

I knew that my night would only get worse because of this damn rain. Duke would need to run the backyard to do his business, and like any other three-year-old hound, he wouldn't be in any hurry to come back inside. He almost always ended up a muddy mess.

My house isn't big or grand like so many others in this city, but it's what I can afford and with a lot of help from the bank, it's mine. It has a good-sized bathroom, two bedrooms, the customary kitchen, living room combo, a small detached garage, a nice deck off the back, a fenced yard for Duke, and it has all the furniture that I need, because I don't really entertain.

We entered through the side door and were greeted by my hopeless watchdog. The only damage that he would do to an intruder, would be if he hurt them with his wagging tail.

I unloaded the truck and put away the groceries while Duke mucked about in the backyard. In all the time that I was doing this, buddy hadn't lifted his head. He just stood dripping and shaking from being wet and cold.

"Look man, I told you before, I'm cool. You're safe here. That's your room over there for the next couple nights. The washrooms down the hall. If you want to do any laundry, it's in the basement. I'd get out of that wet shit before you get sick." Buddy raised his head a bit and moved toward the bedroom door. "Don't worry man, it locks from the inside."

Looking up and down the hall from under the brim of his hat, he didn't move. I wasn't sure what the hold-up was, but my patience's was wearing thin. "I'm giving you first crack at the bathroom. Then I'm going to have a shower, make us something to eat, watch some T.V. then I'm going to bed. That's it. You're safe dude, I'm not gay. No offense if you are, but I'm not." The head raised up a little more which was a good sign, but the shaking didn't stop and that was a bad sign. As a gesture of good faith, I put my hand out, "Sam, by the way. My name's Sam."

The thin shaking hand surprisingly took hold of mine and said, "Beth"

Well you could have knocked me over with a feather. I suppose that I could see it, I guess. The tiny little hand, the small sized body, the soft quiet voice, but why the men's clothes? I wanted to ask some questions but didn't want to alarm her.

I didn't know what to do, so I went over to my junk drawer, pulled out my hunting knife and sheath and handed it to Beth. "There, take this with you. Get in the shower and warm yourself up. It's sharp, so be careful."

"What should I do with the knife." Beth asked in a semi whisper.

"Stab anybody that comes through the door." I laughed to let her know that it wasn't going to happen, but she'd have some form of protection if need be.

"Is all the stuff in your pack soaked or do you have anything that's dry." Beth shook her head no. Opening the linen closet I pulled out a robe that my sister had left here when her and her partner had spent some time visiting.

"It was my sister's. She left it here. It's clean and it's dry, so be my guest." Beth took the robe and said something that resembled "thank you".

While waiting my turn in the bathroom, I put some pasta and premade meatballs on to cook. A bellowing bark alerted me to the fact that the big old bastard Duke was finally ready to come back in the house. Two towels later, he was dry enough to roam free.

A good thirty minutes later my house guest emerged from the bathroom, bringing a trail of steam and condensation with her. Wrapped up in my sister's old robe, you could tell that Beth was a girl. She had a pretty enough face, but she looked tired. You know the look that someone gets when they haven't slept in days. A grayish tint with dark circles under their eyes. Her shiny brown hair was cut very short, in an almost boyish style. There were hints of curves and a figure beneath the terry cloth, but I didn't risk staring and making her feel any more uncomfortable than she already was.

"Supper's on. I'm going to jump a quick shower. If you want to throw your stuff in the wash, everything that you'll need is down there" With all of her wet belongings rolled up into a ball and the knife at her side, she headed toward the basement.

Having supper was the same as any other night for me, no one to talk with. Beth was silent. The only sounds she made were the light sounds of chewing her food. When we finished, I just couldn't help myself, so I slid my phone across the table.

"Look Beth, I'm going to leave this for you tonight. If there's anyone that you need to call, do it. Don't worry about if it's long distance or not. If you need to let someone know that you're okay, do it. Only thing is, I need the phone for work, so just put it back on the table before you fall asleep." Beth nodded but didn't touch the phone.

True to my word, after supper I put on some Netflix and was drifting off into another world when I jumped at the sound of a voice. Beth had said something, but I had completely missed it. "Pardon me?"

"Can I use this blanket? I'm still real cold."

"You don't have to ask, and if you're cold tonight, there lots of extra blankets in the closet."

An hour or so later I handed Beth the remote, "You're safe here. Take the knife to bed with you when you go, lock the door, hell push something in front of the door if you want. I'll be leaving around 6:00am tomorrow so if you hear anything, it's me. No one else will come to the house during the day and I won't be home until around 5:00pm so make yourself at home. If you decide that you want to leave, then do what's best for you, but do me a favor and please don't steal anything. Duke will keep you company, as you can tell he's vicious." I pointed toward Duke who was laying on his back, paws aimed skyward, with his big old balls hanging out. That brought the first chuckle out of Beth. As tired as she was, she still had a pretty smile.

I read a few chapters of the latest novel I had and was nearly asleep when I heard the sound of furniture dragging across the wooden floor in my spare bedroom. Well at least she was dry and safe.

The rain continued pouring down all day as forecasted, for once they had gotten it right. Work was uneventful and only a couple of times did my mind drift toward Beth. My main concern was could I be walking into an empty home tonight, empty of Beth, empty of furnishings? Living single and on a budget left me with just my cell phone and like most people my age, the thought of a landline telephone didn't even cross my mind, so contact between Beth and I wouldn't happen.

Duke met me at the door with his big old ass shaking and tail wagging, at least he was okay. The house seemed dark and empty. It was the way that I usually found it. The only difference was that the door to the spare bedroom remained closed. My garbage can, indicated that my guest had dined here during the day. A banana peel, an apple core and an empty can of tuna, lay in waste, but I couldn't tell for sure if she had stayed.

Some chicken breasts on the barbeque always stirs the senses. Assuming that I still had a guest, I made enough of those to go around, along with two small salads.

With a small, non-alarming knock on the spare room door, "dinner in ten, if you're interested". The sounds of shuffling feet and a large piece of furniture being moved answered the question whether she had stayed or not. The door opened without a sound, but Duke played his role as greeter to perfection and went over to say hello.

"It's just a salad and some chicken, is there anything else that you want?"

"No thank-you." These barely audible words would get the best of me, but I tried to remember what it was like to be in her position.

"You want a Coke, coffee, water, juice?" Fuck it. I went with something that would allow a yes or no answer.

"Coke please." Still quiet, but at least they were words.

Beth was dressed in different clothes then I'd first saw her in, they were not nearly as large as the others and although they didn't fit her well, at least they were dry. Supper was just as the night before, very quiet. She nodded and shook her head when I asked questions or talked about the weather, but there appeared to be no way that she was going to start any conversation on her own.

"This rain is crazy. They say it's going to last right into next week." Nothing.

"You're welcome to stay and wait for better weather if you want." She looked up, but couldn't make eye contact.

"Well no pressure. We have the weekend to figure it out. Tomorrow and Sunday are my days off." Still no eye contact, but I did get a nod.

My introverted houseguest finished her meal, gathered the dirty plates, ran some soapy water and did the dishes. She obviously knew what to do around a house, so she must have lived in one at one time or another.

Because of the dirty nature of my job, I always shower sometime before or after supper, tonight I chose to wait until after. There was nothing out of place in the washroom, but there was a damp towel folded neatly over the edge of the big old claw foot tub. It felt good to shower and get the dirt and dampness off of my body. Dressing in my weekend gear of shorts and a t-shirt, I made my way toward the living room.

The kitchen had been cleaned and everything had been put away, but Beth still sat at the table with her hands folded and her head down. It was a sad sight to see, because it reminded me of someone in mourning.

"You're welcome to sit in the living room or wherever you want. You don't have to hang out in here. Like I told you yesterday, make yourself at home."

As she sat in a chair directly across from the T.V. and the absolute furthest distance she could be from me. I noticed that she still had the hunting knife in the pocket of her oversized hoodie.

The inclement weather would dictate that there would be zero outdoor activities for the next few days so binge watching television sounded as good as anything that I could think of. "Is there anything you want to watch?" Just a slight shake of the head.

"Okay look. I'm sorry but it's going to be a shitty weekend for both of us if you just sit there and don't say a word. I told you before, you can relax here, you're safe. No one will bug or touch you and you're free to come and go as you please. Just, just, I don't know. Just, don't be afraid to say something." I honestly felt like a dick. I may have raised my voice a little but not in a menacing way, only frustrated.

Less than 30 seconds later in a voice that was louder than her normal whisper, "Stranger Things." Okay. Now we were getting somewhere. Beth told me where she had left off in the series and we started up from there.

We were no more than two episodes in, and I couldn't help but get the eerie feeling that Beth was "Eleven" the female character in the show, a homeless runaway / escapee. I was curious as to how old she was and what she was running from. Being 23 years-old put me in a bad position if I was harboring a fugitive and an underage runaway. By the time that the third episode ended, I was watching Beth more than the show.

In between episodes, it was time for a pee break and to get a glass of Coke. "Beth, you want a pop? Or, I have beer or some of those wine cooler things. Oh, are you old enough to drink?" It wasn't very tactful, but I took a shot.

"Pop please and yes, I am. Twenty-two." Holy fuckin weight off my shoulders.

Returning with the drinks, Beth took her turn to use the restroom. When she returned, she was sporting the bag of no name Oreo's that she had bought two days ago. When she opened the package and handed the offering to me, I noticed that one row had already been devoured. Just to be polite and break the ice, I took two and said thank-you.

I must have dozed off. The television was stopped and waiting for instructions and Beth was curled up asleep in the chair. She was in an odd position, yet her right hand was attached to the handle of the knife in her pocket. Not too keen on getting stabbed, I called her name until she jumped.

"Sorry, we both fell asleep. I'm heading to bed. Do you want me to leave this on for you?"

"No, that's okay."

The sound of the heavy dresser being pulled in front of the spare room door made me smile.

Weekend mornings would be great for sleeping in, but Duke had other plans. He wanted breakfast and he wanted to go outside to do his regular business. The unrelenting pounding of liquid sunshine even shortened Duke's morning routine. I cursed this weather when his oversized paws splashed across the floor, making brown puddles, everywhere that they landed.

Saturday went exactly like the evening before and the evening prior to that, not much talking between us. We both did our own thing, reading, watching television, etc, but to my surprise, when I gave Beth a choice for supper, she chose tacos. Later in the evening she even chuckled at a show she was watching, but her hand was always only a few inches away from the handle of that knife.