Just Another Ghost In The Street

Hello, friend.

I call you friend yet you do not know me, my name does not matter, so I will not introduce myself. I, however, have known you your entire life. I was with you when you were born, I am with you as you read this passage, I will be with you when you die. The mention of death does add a certain, perhaps, darkness to my manner of speaking, but do not fear me, please friend, I only wish to understand that which makes up the human experience. Whatever it is, I have laid witness to it since the beginning of time, yet I have never been able to understand, I cannot experience it myself, for I am nothing but what I can describe to you as, ‘it.’

Within my many millennia of waiting and watching and wondering about the motivations of your kind, I have been becoming, much to my own amusement, a sort of scientist, me, an ‘it,’ a scientist, yes. Upon many encounters with the wantings of others, I have found that money is a driving force for so many of the emotions that I have never been able to feel, only see. Through this discovery, I’ve created a simple test of four steps to better help me observe and understand human nature.

Step one, in keeping with the simplicity of my physical nothingness, I chose a black notebook to be first introduced to an individual of my choosing.

Step two, the individual must open my book and read my message. It would list out a series of instructions and state that if they are followed with complete accuracy, the individual would be led to a place containing 20,000 dollars. An important note, the instructions are privy to the one receiving them, the possibility of my instruction is limitless.

Third step, in hoping that the finder of my black book has indeed participated in my test, they would find the money.

Fourth step, they react, and I observe.

I watch and I try to, somehow, understand them. Some scream when they’ve found that the money is real, some cry, some cry with a smile on their face which has always confused me, and some, stand in an unblinking stillness, shock, I believe it’s called. These, are just a few examples.

Now, I regret to say, many of my findings have stopped pleasing me. Humans have become predictable over time, and please friend do not take insult, that is only the truth as I see it.

To help you better understand me, perhaps, we could witness a test together?

My book has recently been planted in the path of an, well, an intriguing individual. Though the predictability resides in his genes, it could be, fun, to have a friend see my test take form. I've not done this with a human before. I suspect we should just, as I've heard said, dive right in?

I sat back down in my spot against the brick wall, my butt wet, the rain sound. A wet butt and rain, two symptoms of being a street-kid in Portland, Oregon. I don't mind it though, rain smells good, and you get used to the swamp-arse. Moments ago, an elderly man got me to stand, and he asked if I knew the directions to Old Town, which is a very ruddy, yet groovy part of the city. He appeared rather worn, sick, out of it, and cares etched his face to look as though he was in a permanent state of deep melancholy. I didn’t like having to be the soul to tell him that he was indeed already in Old Town, smack-dab in the middle of it, like I said, out of it. That wasn’t my first experience with the lost and the lonely, familiar sympathy weighed on my heart as I watched him shuffle away down the street.

I shivered as an evening chill blew through. I wrapped my jacket tighter around my body and I huddled closer to the wall. It was a Wednesday, people passed by my spot on their way to somewhere, I wondered where, and their feet touched down on the pavement so close to my own. One of them, a fellow in dark clothes, whizzed by me so fast I could liken him to the wind. When he leapt off the curb to cross the street, a black thing fell out of his coat.

I stood, aiming to collect and return.

I discovered it was a notebook, small, black, when I grasped it my stomach jumped. A very, sort of, transcendent feeling fell over my body like a blanket. It had a medusa-like affect on me for only a moment, then I remembered.

“Sir!” I yelled out, “Sir, you've dropped your notebook!”
 By the time I spoke, the man was gone. I was calling to nobody, rotten luck. I considered passing it on to the police, but logic reminded me of my name, what I looked like, and who was looking for me. So, no cops. Oh! I know, inside identification. The fellow who dropped it must have written his name inside, and with my resources, I could find him myself. I opened it and found diddly freaking squat to do with a name, but, scrawled on the front page in a messy, childlike hand, was a long note.

~ To whom it may concern, I am your past, your present and your future. I am also a scientist, yes, and I wish for you to do a simple test for me. It would be very beneficial to us both if you would accommodate my offer. Follow my instructions exactly, and you shall be rewarded greatly with $20,000.

I stopped reading and looked up, my eyebrows kissed like two furry caterpillars in love.

$20,000?

Hah.

I smiled and continued reading, the humour of this note numbing the immediate need to return it to its owner.

~ The instructions follow as such, cross the street, and tell the first stranger who passes on your right side something that you see upon first looking in their eyes. Then, you must ask the stranger to do the same to you. Once done, turn the next corner, then down the first ally, behind the green trash bin, within the pocket of an old blue jacket, you will find what you were promised. 20,000 dollars, yours to keep.

If you choose to skip my instruction and go straight to the reward, you will find nothing.

Be well, friend.

“Right,” I said aloud to myself.

I shut the book and stuck it into my coat.

Well, why not?

I have nothing else planned for today. My friends are all out completing their daylight dealings and doings, it’s not laze about sun tan weather, I have no job.

Why not accommodate the request?

And yes, I will find a way to return it, later.

Vehicles zoomed past, I waited my turn and sprinted across the road, easily completing the first step. A person passed me on my left, but the black notebook said they must pass me on my right, so I kept walking. A bell rang, a woman exited a flower shop carrying a bouquet of yellow carnations, she passed on my right side.

Here goes something.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

Two hesitant eyes flicked to mine, then straight ahead.

“I have no money,” she said quickly.

“No, ma’am, you misunderstand. I wish to tell you something.”

She looked at me, brows raised, I looked at her quizzically. She had the feel of someone who thought it a mighty favour to be humouring a homeless youth, but I perused past the look of contempt and annoyance to try and find what was underneath.

“Well,” she asked, her foot tapping on the wet pavement. “What is it?”

“Ma’am, I would like to say, I see, great tenacity in your eyes.”

She didn’t look amused.

“Halfway house is on 2nd street,” she hissed.

Wow, she seems lovely.

The woman stared walking.

“Ma’am, ma’am just a moment please.”

She ignored me.

I walked next to her, thanking heaven and hell that in my 23 years I’ve only gained the intimidation factor of a wet leaf.

“Ma’am, I must ask, what do you see when looking into my eyes? Its of the —”

“I will not indulge this sort of harassment from a transient.”

“Ma’am, I —,”.

“I see nothing!”

I stopped walking and the woman with the yellow carnations continued down the street while muttering something about the scourge of the homeless.

With an undertone of amusement I called out, “Nice talking to you too ma’am!”

Feel bad for myself I did not. I followed the instructions perfectly, and really, I’m just another ghost in the street. How could I expect her to see me clearly when the homeless have been going unnoticed since the beginning of time?

Whatever, I don’t hate her for it.

Right.

It’s time to settle this for truth or for trickery. I played out the notebook’s next instructions exactly, around the next corner, down the first alley, green trash bin, blue jacket. I arrived at my destination. To my surprise, behind the bin, the jacket lay on the ground. I haven't eaten today, so a hallucination it must be. I went to grab the jacket — oh, it’s real, just as real as the dirt beneath my feet. It felt weighed, I felt a bulge in the pockets. My hand dipped in, from it, I pulled a plastic bag with a wad of green bills inside. Before getting excited, I checked the authenticity.

All right, plainly spoken, the black book didn’t lie. $20,000 it looked like, in my hands.

I’m gonna puke.

I swallowed it down.

This, is a fine example of a ‘what in hell’ moment, and strangely, my gut told me that this ‘what in hell’ moment was, fate? I sighed in contented disbelief and stuffed the book and bills into my coat pockets. Holy crap. Wow, uh, right, I guess, back to my spot on the brick wall to think this bizarreness over?

As I was crossing the street, I spied the old melancholy man from earlier standing on the corner. He looked rather lost still, and cold, an idea came.

I jogged over.

“Um, hello again,” I said gently.

“Hullo.”

“Sir,” I said, “would you like to grab supper with me?”

He frowned.

“It’s been a while since I've been asked on a date.”

I laughed.

“Oh no, I mean as a friend.”

“Friend?”

I nodded. “You’re new to Old Town. I remember how hard it was to find a friend when I first came here.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Well, twist my arm.”

I laughed again.

The man, who’s name I found to be Walter, talked endlessly as we strolled for a few blocks. The restaurant we found had gold light streaming from the windows, it sliced through the grey day’s haze with a comforting ease. Let’s find a table by the window Walter said, I happily obliged. He took a seat, looking melancholy still, but warm. And I sat down in my spot across from him, my butt dry, the rain still sound.

My, my, dear friend, wasn’t that interesting? There are times, when an ‘it’ like me has to come to terms with the un-sensibility of humans. I long to understand them, but I gladden myself to not be of their flesh. However, there are moments that make me long to be touched by their love, to feel the simplicity of their kindness. What we have just witnessed together, is a pristine example of one of those remarkable moments. Though I do not feel things as you do, I as an ‘it’ have come to a simple conclusion.

If my test leaves you with anything, let it be this. Look through the eye and into the heart, look to understand each other. That, is peace, and peace, is the only way forward.

Be well, friend.