Excerpt
I walked down the track a ways until I came to a spot where the tracks crossed over a river. Under the bridge I could see a faint light flickering. I eased down cautiously toward the light. There by the river an old hobo sat crouched over a small fire made of twigs. He held on to the lid of a tin can that had been partially separated from the body of the can and bent back to serve as a handle for the tin can cooking pot. The can was dented and polished from wear. I edged a little closer. He spoke without looking at me.
You aiming to hurt me boy, or are you just scared of a harmless old man?
I straightened up and looked around. We were the only two human beings in the vicinity. I relaxed a little, but kept my distance. I knew something about harmless old men.
Im just passing through, I said. I saw the light from your fire.
Watcha running from sonny? he asked.
Im not running, I said. Who said I was running? Im just traveling through, on my way to the mountains. Gonna live like Jim Bridger.
Oh. Well excuse me then, he said. I just figured you being so young and all, and it being so late, you know, but what the hey do I know? I ran away from home when I was ten, but that dont mean we all gonna do that, right?
Right, I laughed. Watcha got cooking there?
He looked at his can lovingly. His hands held it steady over the low flame.
Got myself a little carrot soup going, he said. You hungry boy?
I could see he did not have enough for two. I shook my head and told him no thank you as I moved a little closer. I sat down a few feet away and watched him make his soup. He pulled a stump of a carrot out of his shirt pocket. He unwrapped the carrot from a flimsy piece of wax paper and laid the paper carefully to one side. The carrot had a string through its thick end. The stump looked withered and worn. He tested the water in the can with his finger. When he was satisfied with the temperature he dipped the carrot stump into the can and began to bob it like a tea bag. Then he let it rest in the can while he turned his attention to me.
Gonna live like Jim Bridger, eh? Thats a pretty tall order. Gets cold out here. Foods hard to come by too. Dont envy you that kind of life sonny.
Looks like youre doing all right, I said.
Well, I guess I am doing better than some folks, he said. But I aint no mountain man. I like living free, but I couldnt do it without the help of some good-hearted people along the way. Mountain men, theys there because they lost faith in the human race, but I think theys still some good in it. What do you think boy?
I knew right away how I felt.
Whats so good about it? I said. Its a stinking mess. Too many people are mean and cruel, and as far as Im concerned theres no hope for it.
You see. Now thats where we differ, he said. I see people as changeable, but first they got to know why and how. You think you could change your ways if you had to boy?
I dont have to change, I said. Im not mean and cruel.
Maybe not, he said. But you just did a real dumb thing and now you are running from it. You hurt some people. You hurt yourself. You upset the peace you had workin, and you set yourself back on account of it. I dont know that much, I reckon, but I do know this much: We can help change our world to a more peaceful place only by changing ourselves first. You are part of the problem boy.
He took the carrot stump from the can and tapped it lightly on the rim. Then he gently wrapped it again in the wax paper he had saved, and put it back in his pocket. He sipped the concoction in the can, smiled and blew out a sigh.
Mmmm, this soups better than the last batch I made, he said.
He made it look so delicious I began to salivate myself, but I was determined not to let him catch me off guard. I already told you, Im not running from anything, I said. You dont know me. Youre just fishing for something. I gotta go now. With that I pulled myself to my feet and began to leave. He said, I used to have a boy like you. I lost him somewhere along the way. Ive been going around to places he liked to go, but I dont think he knows hes lost yet. We havent been able to find each other. Im not sure hes even looking. Im sorry, mister, I said. I can see you are a lonely old man. I hope you find your son someday. Whats his name? If I see him, Ill tell him I saw you here. Preciate it. His name is Bub, same as mine, he said. Just Bub? I said. Just Bub, he said. Not just any Bub course, but just Bub. Nice to know you boy. You take care. Maybe well see each other again sometime. Could be, I said, but I knew there was little chance of that. Take care old timer. I felt sorry for the old guy. Seemed like he was the one who was lost, and maybe his son didnt even want to find him. My heart was sad for him.
|