Give a Little P1
#1 of Give a Little
The beginnings of a tale of two lives, two deaths, and the bond that brings the rich and the poor closer than ever before.
He used to walk around the streets of downtown Smithson with his mother every saturday on their way to the local Sunday market. His little hand in hers they would walk down Main, overstepping the vagabonds who begged for money and piss stained clumps of cement until they came upon a certain corner of the road. Along Main street there were a lot of homeless in the day and prostitutes at night, most drug addicts and all untrustworthy. All but one who sat alone on the corner of 2nd.
His mother would always stop to say hello and chat while the light told her not to cross yet, giving her two dollars as we went away. Two dollars could get you more back then than these days, but even then the woman would take the second dollar and give it to the next beggar over. Thats why my mother gave her money. "To give so others may give is the greatest gift of all," she would tell me as we crossed the blackenned road to the market.
"But wont that man buy more bad things like they always do here mommy?"
"More than likely," his mother said back, "but that is not the point of giving, is it?"
He would stand there, thinking it over in his young mind every time. Finally he looked up and pulled her shirt. "Why do you just give that person money and not the rest?"
She bent down to his eye level and brushed his fur down that stuck up from his muzzle. "Because that wonderful woman over there gave me back what I thought was lost to me. She gave me you, and she showed me hope for some is not wasted on all. You'll do well to remember that when you are older, Tommy."
They walked over to the stalls of fruits and veggies where the haggling was loudest. Grabbing a bag, Tommy would fill is with oranges, the bring oragne reflicting onto his cream-colored pelt. He just loved to pick out all the food, and even if it had a hole or was bruised, his mother would always buy it anyways. "Bruised doesn't mean broken," They would say together. He truly loved his mother.
Rolling around the sidewalk on his skateboard with his pals, Little T laughed and hollered as his gang would grind next to a sleeping homeless man, startling the half-empty booze bottle from his hand as he jolted awake. Mumbles were lost to the teens as they raced further downtown. They came up on 2nd and LT came to a slow, reaching in his pockets for the spare change he had.
"Aww come on man! That bitch aint worth your money! She's just gonna go do some daddy tonight for booze greens anyhow." They laughed at him and the woman with kindness in her eyes and babe in arm as he gave her a meesly three dollars.
"Thank you Young one," She said with a smile. "He won't be hungry tonight."
"Never should he be," he replied.
"Never should he be!" The mocking of his group pulled him away from her to puch one guy's arm. Laughing they all took off after eachother, without a single glance behind. The lady pulled out a bottle with a nip and rocked her son as the noise faded to quiet his hunger and cries.
"You will go places far from here, Joey. No one should have to be living in a hole like us, so do your momma proud." She smiled into the little otter's eyes and took comfort in seeing them closed.
The car came to T's house a few minutes before he was ready for school. His friends all carpooled together in John's green stripped camino to school, and never was it a calm or quiet ride. But today was different. Today not a thing was said in the car as T walked over and waved them on. He needed to walk today. He needed time to think.
The lion walked slowly back up to the door of his house before hearing his father cursing at whatever he thought was responsible and decided he didn't need his backpack today for school. Stepping heavily down each step to the pavement, T just looked around like he didn't know where he was. In truth, he didn't know anymore. He sighed.
"One step at a time and soon you'll be running a mile," T said, taking a few steps before breaking out into a jog in the completely opposite direction the car drove to. Who needed school on a day like this? Not him. Running down the street brought a flood of confused emotions to his eyes, making his skin crawl and chest tighten. T turned down Main and kept going, kept crying, kept breathing.
T finally looked up when he came to a crosswalk because he had stepped on something squishy. He bent over to pick up the orange he had smashed and looked at it emptily before someone tapped his arm gently. He turned his head and started to cry again when he saw who it was. The homeless lady wrapped her arms around him and just let him cry as he son sat with half an orange, quietly eating what was his.
An hour had passed before T came back from the market with a small bag of oranges and a blanket for the lady and her son. He sat with them on the corner and talked. They talked about his mother, the weather, his schooling, and some on the woman's son, who had a small pile of text books with library stickers on them in a paper bag.
"One day he will become something much greater than i ever was, and he knows it. He just needs a bit of a push here and there," She said with a crooked smile at Joey.
"And I'll pass the GED before I turn 18, I swear it! I only have a few years left!" Joey was only around 11 or so, but still so smart and eager to learn what the world had to offer.
"And how old are you, little guy?" T asked, leaning forward.
"I'm only around 12 or so I think, right ma?"
She looked at her little boy and laughed lightly. "Yes I'd say around that many years ago is when your... father," She said, catching on the word almost in disgust,"and I met."
"You mean you don't know where his father is? Its hard to live with only parent."
"Yeah, we all know, but lets just say for his sake it can get a bit dangerous for those unprotected by the law at night around here," The lady said in a quieter tone as Joey was distracted putting a few coins from passer by into his jar and that of the sleeping man next to them.
The next few months were hard for T as he dealt with the scars of those who have known cancer on his heart. But life carries on in a cold and unstopping fashion, dragging on the pain through winter. The fireplace was warm for T and his father as they watched the flames dance an intriquet and ancient dance. Soon though the snow went away for the birthing of spring, and again the market openned with fresh produce. T's birthday was this weekend, and it was about time for him to have some celebrating in his life.
The week of school passed quickly and finally he went to the library to check out a book or two for his senior paper. He was studying up on buisness skills and internet marketing for a course in school. Maybe he would go into that sort of thing, but he would want to get college out of the way first, so one step at a time.
Comming up to the counter, he saw a familiar stack of books in the check-in pile. "Excuse me ma'am," T said, pointing the books out, "who checked those in?"
"Some older man comming back from the market saw them just sitting there on the corner of 2nd and Main and brought them back. They were a few months over due but the address to the holder was fake."
T just mulled it over and checked out his books before getting into his car and driving downtown. His car wasn't that great, but it was a present from his group of friends. A clunker for the lion, and who knows what they had done to get it, but it was his and he was happy with it.
T drove along Main looking for street signs. 4th, 3rd, and finally 2nd. But the corner that was forever occupied had only a few old orange peels and a broad sheet of cardboard with drawings of letters and animals on it. He kept driving, confused and hurt that they would just leave without telling him. Afterall, he had seen them for years every spring and fall when he and his mother had walked the street to the market.
That's right. His mother died nearly a year ago, just shy of seeing him graduate. His paw came up to wipe away the solitary tear that lept from his eye and drove on home. He had a paper to get done.
A few years later, billborads were flashing from one image to the other as cars on the Chicago streets drove under them. Geico was saving money, Johnson's Pharmacy was having a sale on Easter candy left over from April, and apparently May was the only month to buy a new kind of diamond for Mother's day. You know it wasn't.
Tom was just getting into the elevator when he saw his boss come over and stop the doors from closing. "Tom! My man! My main man! How about you and I have a chat in my office, slugger? I got a few ideas you will really like to hear!"
"But mister O'Reily, it has been a long day at work and I am off shift. The new projects, can't they wait until tomorrow, sir?"
"Oh yes they can, but this can't!" O'Reily had the overly enthusiastic grin of the man in the billboard outside the window sellingsome organic butter cream. "Now off we go!"
Winding his way back to the offic of his boss, Tom wasn't sure what to say or do, but he knew it was just going to be a big project for him to complete again. Hadn't he given this company enough help? Hadn't he brought it from the brink of bankrupcy and sent it soaring with one idea? Gods he needed to find something more fulfilling to do with hs life. 13 an hour wasn't enough.
"Now, Mister Meister of the Sky! Look at what you've achieved," O'Reily said with a grand gesture to the skyline of Chicago. Hundreds of changing pictures and ads on billboards lit up the dusk sky. "Your invention of the software to be able to broadcast and control electronic billboards has brough this company from the ground up into the towering mountains and clouds! You, my lovely underling, are being promoted!"
The smile and arms-wide look on his boss was almost comical. The older mink never got this excited except when his competitors in the billboard business had their property tagged. Tom guessed with his mouth open this was much better. "E-excuse me, s-sir? A promotion?"
"Yes!" Wrapping his arm around Tom's shoulder, O'Reily led the young man to the window. "We have had meetings about you recently and my board of supervisors and I believe you to be just what this company needs to be propelled into greatness again! We want to appoint you Head Manager of Marketing!"
"But sir!"
The protest hung in the air as not a single reason to decline the position aside from modest shock came to Tom's mind. "But I am only 26!"
"Speaking of numbers, at the rate you are working at these days, you make, say maybe 23k a year? Hardly enough to live comfortably in the Windy City, no? Tell me, where are you living now?"
"Umm, in a small studio flat?" Shock played on Tom's face.
"Well, get ready to move out, my boy! You are getting a raise as well!" With each word and pitch change, O'Reily's voice got louder and higher with excitement. "We are nearly, no, more than tripling your salary at 50 an hour!"
Tom might have fell to the floor at that number if it were not for the arm holding him upright. How was everything going so well for him? All he had done was mess with a few lights on a board of wood and java, and shaboom. One year earlier the first electronic billboard had popped up to be met with such enthusiasm and offers from other companies for the rights to the software. But his company had monoplolized by keeping the secrets and uprighting more and more billboards. People were falling over eachother still to this day to get commercials to play outside where everyone would see.
This was happenning too fast. And all while Tom was stunned into contemplative disbelief, his boss kept talking about how many people they had hired to work under him already and then everything went black for a moment. He just needed to rest a bit.