His socks were covered in green mold

Saturday I went into downtown Portland for a hair appointment.  I parked in my usual spot on Broadway, across from the Oregonian, pulled an umbrella out of my car, turned up the collar on my coat, and began walking briskly the 3 blocks to the salon.  The rain was coming down in sheets, and the wind made it icy cold.  I kept my head down trying to keep the rain from hitting my face, and walked as fast as I could.

I passed an old church, and from the corner of my eye, I saw someone lying in one of the doorways.  With my head down, all I could really see were his feet.  He was wearing those plasticy slipper kind of shoes and I could see his socks.  They looked like they were covered in green mold.  This made me stop.

I lifted my umbrella and the rain pelted me as I peered a little closer to see this man's feet.  He was laying down, hunched in a semi-fetal position, his back to me.  He wore some brown cotton pants and a gray sweatshirt which covered his face.  His shoes had kind of come off a little, and as I looked, I confirmed, yes, the heel of his sock was covered in green mold.  I just stood there staring for a moment...wondering, how long must this poor man have been walking around in wet socks for them to actually mold like that....months?  years?

He lay there twitching, a Big Gulp cup at his head.  I wondered if he was ill, drunk, or just sleeping.  The doorway provided cover from the rain, but the wind was whipping around and I thought how cold and uncomfortable that must be on the hard cement he was laying on.  I wondered what to do.  Should I call the police to pick him up, take him someplace warm to dry out?  Should I awaken him and ask if he needed help?  I wasn't sure. 

I was late for my appointment, so I raced ahead to the salon.  As I pulled open the door, the wind grabbed it and I had to pull it shut, dragging my soaking wet umbrella behind me.  The salon was warm. Holiday music was playing. Scented candles were burning.  I was greeted by a beautiful young woman who asked me if I would like some water or hot tea or perhaps a hand massage while I waited for my appointment.  I stood there, umbrella dripping in my hand, and just stared at her.  "I'll be back in just a few minutes." I told her.

I raced out the door and ran down the street.  I ran past the homeless man in the doorway.  I ran to my car.  I opened the door and pulled out a blanket I keep in the backseat.  I quickly shook it out and tucked it under my coat to keep it dry and warm. 

I went back to the man in the church doorway, unfolded the blanket and reached over to put it on him.  I was a little apprenhensive...what if he awoke and was disoriented and maybe thought I was trying to hurt him.  I entered the doorway and knelt down beside him.  I was immediately hit with his odor...a strong scent of human waste and body odor.  I gagged a little from the smell, but didn't want to cover my nose and mouth in case I woke him...I didn't want to embarrass him.  I placed the blanket over his moldy sock covered feet and pulled it up all the way to the top of his shoulders.  I made sure the blanket reached down around his back to the ground to keep the cold wind out.  He moaned a little as I placed the blanket on him, but other than that he didn't move.

I walked back to my salon, asked to use the restroom and washed my hands and splashed warm water on my face.  I was shaken.  I was struck with the disparity between me and the man in the doorway.  Here I was in a warm, luxurious salon, with people waiting to pamper and comfort me.  He...he was unbathed, unkempt, and cold.  It shouldn't be so...shouldn't everyone have at least some food, a warm place to wait out a storm, and the basic human dignity of a place to get clean and go the bathroom.

I sat in the waiting area, thinking...holding back tears.  Thankfully my hairstylist was running late, so I had a few moments to collect myself together.  Whether or not the man had made poor choices that helped to land him in his situation...I was sad for him.

Two hours later, I left the salon.  I wondered if the man would still be in the doorway sleeping.  I turned the corner and approached the church.  I came upon the doorway, and saw he was no longer there.  The Big Gulp cup was gone.  A dirty stain remained on the cement where he had lain.  And the blanket...the blanket was neatly folded and placed in a corner.  He was gone, and I never did see his face. 

Comments

[michelle]

Wow- beautifully written and beautifully DONE- it is something that granny would do to be sure. My friend who reads my blog read this first & told me about it while we were running today- and I was proud to be your niece. Love you!