The old man at night

The old man at night

I saw him again, this night as he dragged his left foot on the cobblestone streets. His gait, a little unsteady with a hunched back and a wooden cane. His face partially covered by a worn out hood and his dirty long ash-gray hair hanging long over his chin. His clothes were that from two nights ago and he probably reeked of alcohol like he did that night.

I watched him from my balcony on the 3rd floor, curious to see if he would pick from the large bins down the alley. A place he usually got all that which others in the apartment complexes had discarded.

As he rummaged through his treasuries, his face was a picture of despair. Probably not so lucky tonight, no mouldly bread to bite, no canned soup for the stomach tonight. He crouched over the bin further, steadying his weaker leg on the side while stretching to reach other trash bags with his cane.

I wondered what he will do then, if he found nothing edible tonight, nor any clothing for the night's cold wind.

The harsh realities began to settle in.

I mused,

Why does he have to go through this?

Who is his family?

Who is waiting at home for him?

Does he have a home to return to?

What did he do to end up like this?

Is life just so unfair to others?

All perhaps, he is just facing the consequences of some decisions he took?

Struck with a sense of sympathy, I packaged a large apple and a warm dinner in a brown envelope and pulled out an old but good leather jacket in my closet and sprinted to the ground floor.

Standing some few metres away, I was now scared to be down here alone with the strange old man. I nearly retraced my steps but then I realised I had caught his attention. I quickly waved at him, placed the package and jacket on the floor and raced up the flights of stairs to the apartments. My heart was thumping loudly, scared shit, yet feeling invigorated from being brave to step down to help that man whose shadow on the alley alone had scared me before.

From my balcony, I saw him make small unsure steps towards the package and then his dirty hands gripped it and tore the paper open. For a moment, I saw light radiating from his face.

His haggard, wrinkled face contorted into a big grateful smile and then, and then he burst into loud tears. He sobbed like a baby and sat on the floor, looking up to the heavens. Of course he couldn't see me up my balcony but I could see him and for once I was glad I could help.

He then put on the jacket over what he wore and then walked with the package in one hand and his cane in the other. Carefully, he staggered across the street and then disappeared into the next alley.