Sunset

  Mathew 20:1-16

The breeze caused the cardboard shelter to shudder fitfully in the vacant lot.  The late fall setting sun cast an orange glow as it descended toward the distant Pacific horizon.  Two figures reclined near the cardboard, one sitting and one wrapped in a plastic tarp as in a sheet.

“I’m dying, Martha”  softly muttered George.

“I know, George.” Martha sighed resignedly.  “Just be quiet now”

But George pressed on.  “Being blind really sucks, Martha.  Being blind and on the streets in Los Angeles and dying sucks big time.”

“Yeah, George.  Take it easy now.  OK?”

Martha  adjusted the plastic around George.  “It sure is warm for this time of year.  Thanksgivings just a couple weeks off.  How come you”re acting so cold?  You got to stay away from that cheap liquor.  You was doing good the other day.  Shoulda spent that money you had on good food or socks or something,  You just gotta stay away from that liquor.  Makes you old.”

“Aw Martha, the Shelter food is just fine.  Why can’t I spend my money on something I like?  A little booze ain’t all that bad.”  

George cringes from a pain.  “Why did he do it, Baby?  Oh god, I didn’t mean what I said.  I’m the blind one.  He shoulda known that.”

“I know, darling.” Martha replied.  “He’s gone now.  Probably won’t be back.”

“George, you”re about out of choices.  Let me flag down the police or maybe get Slick to wheel you to the charity ward of the hospital”

Emphatically, George reacted “You do that and that will be the last I see of you, or Slick, or Arch, or anyone else I know.  Something’s going on inside me.  Bad things.  The only thing the charity ward folks will do is hook me up to some tubes.  That and keep my friends away”  

Martha turns her head and looks at something in her bag.

“Don’t let them take me away.  Promise me that Martha, don’t let them take me away.” 

“Who is that, George?”

“Please Martha.  The ambulance people.  Don’t let them take me away.”

“OK George.  I promise.”

“You’re good to me, Martha.”

They listen to the distant sound of an airplane overhead.

“I don’t want to die alone.  When you don’t have anything else, your friends are all you have.  Forty-eight years and the cases of booze I drunk have taken everything else.”

George straightens up at a sound.  “Archie?!!.  Hey Arch?  Martha, is Arch around?”

“No, George.  He went up the block.”

“I just wanted to thank him for fixing up some shade.  It’s good.”

“Yeah, Archie did good riggin’ up that cover for you.  It blocks some of the breeze.  When Archie ain’t fussing at a phantom, he fixes things up good for you, George.”

“Too bad he can’t get his pills.”, said George wistfully.  “Cost too much.  The pills would keep his demons away.”

George spasms again.

Alarmed, Martha ask, “You OK?”

I hurt, Baby.”  George breathed a little easier.  “Slicks pretty good too.  He helps me get to a corner uptown, near Sepulveda.  Never the same corner though.  Pedestrians get stingy if they see me too many times during the week.”

Martha agreed.  “Slick wrote you some good signs.  Too bad them folks didn’t appreciate his education.  Seems like all they want to know is that you’re blind and hungry.  Crap.  You’d think they could see that.  They must be blind themselves.”

“Martha?  Do you think the Shelter Lady will come by today?  I like her.”  George hesitates.  “Don’t let her see me. OK?”

“Sure George, Whatever you want.”

“ She might want to take me away, Martha.  She might want to take me away.”

“George, you know the Shelter Lady only comes by here once or twice a week.  That church she’s with fixes some good food.  Food sometimes seems about to turn though.  But she don’t ask no questions.  Just gives it away.”

“At least she ain’t pushy.  You know I don’t like no pushy folks.  Sometimes though I think I might just take up her offer to get off the street.  But you and Arch need me.  Don’t you, George?’

“Sure, Baby.”

Martha goes on.  “She was talking to Sue Anne once.  Remember Sue Anne?  I saw the Shelter Lady call somebody on a radio and in just a couple minutes Sue Anne was gone.  Most of her good stuff too.  Heard later that Sue Anne cleaned up real good.  How come you and I don’t go with her?”

George ignores her.  “Try to get me some of that fruit juice they give out.  I don’t think I could eat anything anyway.”

“They will be here in a little bit.  I’ll see what I can get.”

The light from the sun was beginning to dim.  George grows quiet.  Archie and Slick drift into the lot.  

Slick spoke.  “Martha, How’s George doing?”

As Archie slips off to one side Martha replies, “Not good.  He’s been real quiet the last couple hours.  I just don’t know how to help him anymore.”

“Do you think we should get a cop and have him taken to the charity ward?”, asked Slick.

“No!” croaked George weakly.  “No charity ward.  Martha, you promised.”

“See Slick, he doesn’t want to go.  He thinks he’s dying ad he doesn’t want to be alone.” 

“The Shelter truck’s pulling up at the corner, Martha.  I’ll set here with George till you get something.  Hurry back so I can get in line.  Hey Archie!  Go with Martha and get something to eat.”

Slick sat down next to George.  “Hey old bud, how you doing?”

“Lousy.”  George is quiet for a moment.  “Slick, it’s about sunset isn’t it?”

Slick replied softly.  “Yeah, going down same as always.”.

“Tell me about it.” requested George.

“Do you remember the colors orange and black and yellow?  Oh, and maybe blue?”

George nodded.

Slick continued.  “Well.  The sun is just about half way down behind Santa Monica.  It’s sort of yellow with lots of orange.  Everything’s kind of orange except the buildings look mostly black now.  The sky is still blue but there are a few streaky clouds that are dark orange and dirty yellow.  Can you feel the sun’s heat?  It’s still a little warm but it’s fading fast.”

“Slick, help me turn around and face the sun.  I’d like to feel it.”

Slick helps him shift around.

“Thanks, Slick.  You’re a good man.”

Slick smiled.  “You’re pretty good yourself, George.  Comfortable?”

Martha and Archie returned balancing a couple plates.  Slick moves off to the truck while the others sit next to George.  Archie mumbles something about the sunset.

“George, they didn’t have any juice.”, said Martha.  “They had some rice and gravy.  Want to try some?”

“No.”, grunted George.

Slick returned and the three of them eat.  George strained to feel the last of the sunset.  A puff of breeze picked up a napkin and sailed it to the fence with other debris.

Breaking the silence, Martha says “The Shelter Lady was asking about you, George.  She wanted to come see you.  You said not to let her come, so I stopped her.  That OK?”

George didn’t respond.

“George?”

“Yeah Martha.  That’s right.”  George took a couple deep breaths.  “The Shelter Lady.  She prayed for me a couple weeks ago.”

Slick commented.  “She does that for everybody now and then.  At least she’s not like the others.  All preachy and stuff.”

“Slick, I prayed too.  Just to kind of clear things up.  With God that is.  I’m glad I did.  If the Shelter Lady is right, God will be good to me.  The Bible says somethin’ about late comers getting the same reward as those that signed on early.  If that’s true I think God’s gonna be good to me just like all of you have been.”

“Guys, you’re all good people.”

The sun slipped below the horizons and soon it was dark.

A couple days later Martha was alone in the vacant lot when the Shelter Lady came to talk with her.

“Martha, could I check on George?  I missed him the other day.”

Martha shook her head, “No, he’s gone.  The mortuary truck picked him up yesterday.”

Not having words to say, the Shelter Lady reached out and held Martha.  After a few moments she spoke softly in her ear.  Martha shook her head to an invitation.

“No.  Archie isn’t doing so well and God needs somebody to look after him.  And Slick.  Well, he needs somebody to talk to.  Thank you though.”

Martha walked over to the Shelter food truck, took a plate of food, and then went back to a few cardboard boxes in the lot.

Sunset was beginning.

Mathew 20: 1-16