A Deal's a Deal

By Jane Greensmith
www.janegs.com

Copyright © 2003.
 All rights reserved.

 

I have always depended on the kindness of strangers. Thing is, I’ve never been able to return the favor. At least not here. Not since Lenny died. Back home, people used to let me do favors for them. They knew that I couldn’t bear to be beholden. So they let me weed flower beds and walk dogs. They let me wash cars and bag groceries. They let me stay in the little house on Third Street even after Daddy and Mama passed on. They invited me to supper. But I wasn’t beholden. I did stuff for them too.

Lenny knew I had my pride. That’s why he said I should come with him to the city. This city that’s so big it’s like all the people in the world who hate each other have got together for a big, loud, stinking meeting. Thing is, when I told Lenny that I’d go with him, I didn’t figure that he’d die so soon after we got here. So I stand on a corner and ask for spare change. Lenny got me here and I don’t know the way back home.

They give me money. They don’t look at me when they toss a couple of coins in my hat, but they do it. They won’t let me do things for them, though. I’ve tried, but it scares them. Here no one knows that I can do stuff too, not just beg.

It’s damn cold here today. I heard someone say that it’s almost Christmas. I sure would like to go home for Christmas. It’s so noisy today. I like my corner quiet, and this is my corner. Everyone knows that. Lenny saw to it that everyone knew which corner was mine, but now there’s this guy who wants my corner. He comes every morning and rings this bell and now people are giving money to him instead of me. People are always giving him stuff, bags of stuff, boxes of stuff. He stacks all his loot and then his friends come and haul it all away at the end of each day.

He nods to me and I nod to him. I don’t want him here and I don’t want him ringing that noisy bell, but Mama taught me to be polite and I’m gonna be polite, even if I don’t want him here.

It’s so crowded now. People are lining up to give this guy their stuff. He smiles and thanks them. Little by little I get closer to the man and his stacks of stuff. He’s got a pot for people to put their money in. It hangs from a couple of red poles. It looks like a soup pot my Mama used to have. I peer inside. The man nods at me and takes a bag from a lady. He puts it with the stack, and then a lady comes up to me. She looks right into my eyes, and hands me the bag. Then she says “Here you go” and walks off. I look around. I’m scared. The man will think I’m stealing his bag. I walk right on over and hand him the bag. “This is yours,” I say. “That lady thought I was you,” I say. He thanks me for my help. I tell him that he can share my corner if I can help him stack his boxes and bags. I help him all day. Then his friends come and we all load the stuff on the truck. He asks me if he can drive me home. I tell him I don’t know how to get there. He says that he’ll help me find the way, if I’ll help him unload the truck.

A deal’s a deal.

The End

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