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FINDING WALDO

There's a good movie playing down-town. How about let's taking in a
movie tonight?" asked my wife.

"I guess so." I told her.

I really did not like going to the theater. It was located right on the
edge of a very seedy part of town.

When we arrived we parked the car and started the block or so walk to
the Florida Theater.

"Can you spare a dollar?" or "Can you spare some change" asked almost
every person that we passed.

Most people coming to this part of town had already learned that it was
best not to speak and to just keep on walking. As we rounded the last
corner I saw a gentleman sitting on the sidewalk, his back to the
building. Next to him was a large duffle bag. He was very unclean and
unshaven. Around his eyes were very dark circles. It appeared as though
he had not washed his face for quiet a long time. His clothes were old
and worn and there was very little doubt that they were in need of a
good washing.

As we passed him by he said not a word. My wife proceeded up to the
ticket booth to purchased the tickets.

"Going to see the movie?" asked the man.

"Yea, my wife wants to see it." I replied.

"It's a very good movie." He said.

"Have you seen it?" I asked.

"No. Just heard that it was..uh, that it was very good." he replied.

"Well, I had better go in" I said.

"Could you spare a dollar?" he asked.

"Sorry. But the wife's got all the money." I said to him, as I turned
and walked away.

We entered the theater and my wife purchased a large bucket of popcorn
and two drinks. After seating ourselves I slowly started eating the
popcorn. All at once I looked over at my wife.

"Can I have twenty dollars?" I asked her.

"Twenty dollars! For what?" she said.

"I just need twenty dollars, Hon." I replied.

"Your not buying a bunch of juicy fruits and candy junk. I told you that
before we came." She said.

She reached into her wallet and she took out a twenty dollar bill. I
took the money and I walked back to the entrance of the theater where
the man was still sitting. I had decided that I was not going to give
the gentleman any money. That I would invite him in to see the movie and
feed him while he watched the show. He looked up at me as I approached
him.

"I'll pay for it if you want to come in and see the movie?" I said to
him.

"I can't leave my stuff. Somebody will steal it. Besides I'm not dressed
for the movies." said the man, looking down at his clothing.

"I'll tell you what. I'll put your bag in the trunk of my car until
after the movie."

The man quickly reached over and grabbed his bag and held onto it, as if
I were going to take it from him.

"It'll be safe." I told him.

Slowly he got up from the ground and picked up his bag. We walked about
block and a half to where my car was parked. I placed the large bag in
the trunk and I locked it. We then walked back to the theater where I
purchased his ticket.

"Roger." I said to the man, holding out my hand.

"Willy" he said, wiping his hand on his pants before shaking my hand.

I purchased a bucket of popcorn and a large drink which I handed to
Willy.
I don't recall the name of the movie that we saw that day. I do remember
it being one of those women type movies. You know, the kind that make
women cry. Every now and then I would see a tear rolling down Willy's
cheek, Each time a tear appeared he would cough with his hand over his
mouth and then he would turn his head to the side and wipe the tears
away with his fingers.

After the movie was over the three of us left the theater and headed
back toward our car. All Willy could talk about the entire time was that
darn movie. My wife and he were talking about the movie as if they were
old friends.

"How about some Baskin Robbins ice cream" I said to my wife.

"You don't need any ice cream." said Judy.

"Just one scoop on a cone. PLEASEeeeee." I begged.

The three of us walked into the ice cream parlor.

"What kind of ice cream do you like Willy? I asked him.

"Do they have that kind that has the marshmallows and the nuts in it?"
he asked.

"That's called Rocky Road." said Judy.

"Ain't had none of that since before Vietnam." said Willy.

"Three Rocky Roads. Double scoops" I yelled out.

"One scoop for you, Idiot." Said Judy.

Willy Laughed and turned his head to the side as if he were embarrassed.
The clerk reached across the counter handing Willy his double scoop of
Rocky Road. Slowly he licked the ice cream and then he closed his eyes
and just stood there. All at once the top scoop fell off his cone and
splattered on the floor. I couldn't help but laugh. Then Judy started
laughing. Willy's eyes got real big and his face was that of a young boy
who felt that he was going to get into trouble. Then he started
laughing. The three of us just stood there laughing as hard as we could.

After we ate our cones we walked to the car. I took Willy's bag out of
the trunk.

"Where do you live Willy?" I asked him.

"I got a place over at the mission on Market Street." he answered.

"You take it easy, Dude" I told Willy, as I shook his hand.

Judy and I got in the car and we headed home. Judy said absolutely
nothing about Willy, whatsoever. It was as if she had never even met
him.

All weekend long I thought about Willy and why he had taken to the
streets. I wondered if it might have been his experience in Vietnam that
had something to do with him not caring about himself any more.

Monday morning I drove back down town to see if I might find Willy. I
did not see him anywhere on the streets. I drove to the mission on
Market Street to see if anyone knew of him.

"Willy? Don't have no Willy here " said the man the counter.

"Sort of a short man with dirt rings around his eyes. Sort of looks like
a raccoon's eyes. Carries an old green army duffle bag." I told him.

"Oh! You mean Waldo Williams. He left out of here on Saturday morning,
headed to Kentucky, on the Greyhound bus." said the gentleman.

"Kentucky?" I said.

"Yea. Old Waldo came in here Friday night acting as though he'd been on
a date, or something. He took a hot shower for the first time in months.
He shaved his face down to the bone. Then asked Billy to cut his hair.
He told old Bill that he was going back home to his family. He said
something about having forgotten that life was supposed to be a fun
time."

Stories from The Life and Time of Roger Dean Kiser:

Click on Roger's name to visit his Website. Roger Dean Kiser

To write to Roger please click on his name. Roger Dean Kiser

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