Panhandler, by Terry Light

Author Terry Light

Felix walked out of the grocery store without making a purchase, wearing an unzipped faded green jacket, long-sleeved black shirt, white t-shirt, jeans, and boots that sloshed through puddles without getting his feet wet. Originally, he intended to go to the druggist at the other end of the lot but found it closed. A drowsy motorist fell asleep behind the wheel and drove his van through the drug store’s front door.

A bearded beggar intercepted him. “Do you have a quarter?”

Shoppers avoided the panhandler as they left the grocery store, some pushing full carts to their car.

“No,” said Felix.

The grizzled man had a quarter but did not want to give it away to someone that wanted something for nothing.

Felix did not find what he was looking for at the grocer, but the lot also included Cannon’s Barbecue. He decided to order a chicken sandwich and baked beans. A few minutes later, the panhandler walked up and placed his order at Cannon’s, too.

So much for being penniless.

Lately it seemed that almost everywhere Felix went in the city, especially downtown, someone asked for a handout.

“Do you have any spare change?”

“Do you have an extra few dollars?”

Once, long ago, Felix remembered a seemingly homeless amputee who, during working hours, permanently stationed himself outside a military base overseas. He was an old man with tanned skin, long curly hair, wore a filthy brown suit and sat with one pant leg rolled up so that all passers-by could see he had no right leg below the middle of his calf.

Pitiful.

Soldiers donated. Not Felix.

Nearby, the beggar kept a locker with a prosthetic foot and a change of clothes. He lived in a nicer apartment than Felix had ever seen.

How did Felix know?

He gave the amputee the benefit of doubt, then followed him.

Felix did not have a job. It was the ‘Great Recession.’ No one would hire him. Twenty years ago, when the stubborn baby boomer couldn’t find a job, he worked as a salesperson and earned a commission. Later, he became self-employed. Then he sold assets for income, lent and borrowed money. No interest. He did not ‘fit the rules’ so he could not collect unemployment.

Though Felix had health insurance, a stroke and its after-affects resulted in massive medical bills that drained his savings – and affected his ability. Initially, the stroke paralyzed his entire right side. He gained back enough function that he could walk, talk, and look absolutely normal.

His mind diminished, though.

When Felix conversed, he grew sluggish. At times, words came slowly. Obviously, something was wrong with him. Felix called this feeling, ‘being tired.’ Studying made him ‘tired.’ Relearning things he used to know how to do – made him ‘tired.’ Thinking made him ‘tired.’

The man looked at the panhandler and saw his own future. Soon the savings would be gone and he would have no choice. He would beg for spare change.

Even with the seriousness of his situation, Felix still did not ‘get’ panhandlers. Wherever there was a parking lot, someone stood with a hand out. On street corners, people asked for spare change. As streetcars and buses passed through downtown, they also passed unwashed bearded denizens asking strangers for money.

The next time a panhandler asked Felix for some money, he said, “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘Why’?”

“Why should I give you money?”

“Because you have some and I don’t.”

“What makes you think I have money?”

“Your jeans aren’t as dirty.”

“Suppose you’re right. Why should I give you money instead of giving it to a panhandler down the street?”

“Because…”

“Yes?”

The panhandler threw his hands up at Felix and said, “Never mind.” He turned away and walked off to find another victim.

“Spare change?”

When his savings ran out, Felix had to make a decision. What would he do?

He could write. What about? Stories? Fiction? Or tales about where he lived? Could he tell stories well enough? Should he put them on a web site? Would editors accept him in newspapers or magazines? What about ezines or novels?

Would anyone read his stories?

In advance, there was no answer.

Felix would find out.