Tom

a young homeless man finally finds some kind of a life after failling to succeed on the streets

Tom

 

 

 

     The chilly night was finally over. The rising sun stung his eyes with brightness and searing warmth, despite his ruddy existence beneath an awning in the process of being built. Noises of the construction crew arriving at work brought him to full wakefulness, and he got up, scooping his blanket up and stuffing it into his small pack, dirt, dry leaves, and all. He crouched down as he stole away behind a bull dozer and slipped out from behind the makeshift wall of tall plywood that surrounded the soon to be hotel. Safely back on the street and away from the previous night's accommodations in the cold sand of the new high rise buildings partially built basement, Tom began the day's search for food, something to drink, and some form of gameful endeavor with which to resume his otherwise pathetic existence on the streets. He had a couple of vouchers for an all day breakfast at one of the bigger casinos across town. There was a park about a half a mile away with a public restroom where he could wash what was left of the sleep from his eyes and stench from his body that should get him into the place without being sent away in disgust, as he had been a few times before.

      It had been almost three weeks since he'd left Texas, having caught a ride with a couple of guys in a pickup with a camper shell. The driver had stopped and smiled strangely at Tom’s sorry form, standing there with his thumb in the air on a two lane highway. His apparent tiredness compelled the guys to let him ride in the back of the vehicle. Tom's desire was just to get as far away as he could from where he was standing and the weird fellow had merely said for Tom to hop in back and relax. After spending two days in a county jail for vagrancy, he just wanted to get out of there, having enough of the municipal programs for homeless people like him who had nothing going for them. He climbed into the bed of the pickup, the small camper shell full of suitcases and cardboard boxes, laid himself down, and fell fast asleep. He woke up several hours later as the pickup made its way down a freeway into the night. Not knowing where he was going or what was going to happen from there, Tom just sat up and stared at the passing white line of the highway, encapsulated in a new cell that was transporting him to a different place and a new world that he had no idea of where it would be. At least it would be a different place where his face would not be known or his youthful failures could jump out at him in his search for any kind of success.

     The next morning he woke up in the back of the truck again. It was parked in a truck stop, and the two guys who'd picked him up were inside. Tom climbed out of the camper and went to the restroom. When they came back out of the restaurant they smiled and laughed. They'd completely forgotten his presence in their truck bed. As he sat on the rear bumper waiting for them, Tom was surprised to notice that as they walked toward the pickup truck they held each other's hands like teenage lovers at a May Day carnival. As offensive as their apparent nature had revealed, Tom was in need of the two men's generosity, and he neither said nor showed anything of his repulsion to their homosexuality.

      "Good lord, darling man!" the driver said as he walked up to Tom, releasing the other guy's hand. "I forgot you were even back there. It's been a long night. Are you hungry?"

      "No sir, I'm fine." Tom said, looking down at his worn out tennis shoes. "Where are you fellas' going, anyway?"

      "Hollywood, baby!" the man said, that weird smile back on his face. "We've landed a contract as models, and would love to take you along. You'd look good in a turtleneck and slacks. What do you think?"

       "Where are we?" Tom asked.

       "Just outside of Las Vegas, dear boy." the leering fellow replied. "We'll be in wonderful California in two hours. Would you like to come along with us, dear?"

       "No thanks, man." Tom replied, reaching into the camper for his pack. "Thanks for the lift, sir."

       "Well your welcome, dear boy." the other fellow replied, and he produced a key from a small bag he was holding, got into the driver's seat of the pickup, and the two strange men drove away, leaving Tom standing there with a perplexed look on his face.

       It took a couple of hours to walk through the Nevada sand to the city. Penniless, hungry, having no idea of what to do or where to go, Tom found himself on the sidewalk, aimlessly walking as usual. That night he slept in the back seat of an old, abandoned sedan parked at a closed down casino near an overpass of the highway. The next morning he finally found a church run mission where he was allowed to shower and finally got himself a fairly decent, hot meal. But that had been weeks ago, and his existence became one of endlessly walking the streets and sitting in hidden, dingy places where he could hide himself from the world. The mission was a source of food and bathing facilities. But Tom was just another whiskered hobo among so many, and he didn't have the abilities to escape that ultimate jail cell of long boulevards that lighted his pathetic image as he walked by posh hotels and scantily clad hookers that completely ignored him. 

      After washing his face and ruddy armpits at the park's public restroom, he started the long walk to the casino that he hoped he could get some coffee and eggs for his protesting belly. He came to a red light, and as he stood and waited for it to change to green, a large panel truck made a right hand turn in front of him. The rear tire had a noisy blowout just as the truck completed the turn, the rear of the truck leaned heavily on the ruined tire, and as Tom watched, the rear door of the truck flew open. A pile of white bundles of laundry piled out onto the sidewalk just a few yards from where Tom was standing.

     The driver, a pudgy black man in blue overalls, jumped out of the cab of the truck and ran around to the flowing pile of smelly sheets, cursing. Without thinking, Tom dropped his pack on the sidewalk and started grabbing the bundles from the dirty gutter while the angry driver continued to cuss at somebody who was to blame for the ruined tire. Before he knew it, Tom had all the bundles of laundry out of the gutter and in a neat pile of off- white cotton on the sidewalk. The pudgy driver had produced a tire iron and jack from the cab of the truck, and stood looking at Tom as he placed the last bundle on the mountain of the sidewalk. He looked at the driver and waited for the man to begin to curse him as well for laying his hands on the pile of otherwise soiled laundry.

     The man stood there in front of Tom with beads of sweat emerging from his closely cropped head and a surprised look in his dark brown eyes. Tom stood back and reached for his pack, ready to flee from being attacked by the tire iron in the man's hand, and the driver looked at Tom, down at the white bundles, and back up at Tom again; his angry look of surprise turned to a smile. He sat down on the side walk, placing the jack and tire iron at his feet, and raised his head up and laughed, almost joyously. He stood up and approached Tom who was ready to run for his life, extending his hand.

      "Thanks, man." the smiling truck driver said. "You just saved me a big heap of work there, young fella'. If you gimme' a hand here, I'll make it worth your while."

      So Tom met his new employer, Mike. After the tire was changed and all the laundry was reloaded into the back of the truck, Mike handed him two twenty dollar bills, and a solemn request to work for him. That night Tom slept in a clean bed in Mike's garage with a full belly. The next day he began his new career as a laundry assistant at a local hospital. It seemed that his long walk into the despair of night had ended.

SR Urie

Reviews

[Lady]

I really admire this story as well as Tom's character - it's sort of a lesson to everyone no matter which direction you're deriving from; life is a journey filled with endless possibilities. There are dips and turns and hikes and shortcuts, each with its own problem to solve. For some people, failing is the only way to discover who you truly are, and to gain a bit of trust or hope in those who pass by.
Tom is one of many who had no choice but to fail, though because of his encounters he learned a great deal about his surroundings and what to really expect rather than to just take for granted, and in the end he was able to pick himself up and climb the ladder towards his own success.

Overall, I thought that your writing style was very well expressed. You have a strong balance of description and dialogue, making it an interesting read. It's also very believable though dramatic at the same time.

I loved how at the end you used a bit of symbolism. The fact that the once clean, white sheets fell into the dirty gutter, to me sort of symbolized Tom and how once he was a fresh new sheet, but something happened causing him to fall and dirty himself up a bit. But someone along the way discovered him and picked him up, knowing that a good washing and a second chance would return him to normal again. Fantastic.

Lady

[J. Swaney]

Sweet read. I thought some of the sentences read a little clunky and i found the font a little hard to read but the story was nice and held my attention from beginning to end.

[Calypso]

Nice sweet ending. Everyone would hope for that kind of end.