LOOSE CHANGE
By Kendra Y. Mims
“Repent! Repent!”
Amid the evening rush, he roared above the noise of the bus engines, the squeal of the subway’s wheels, the pounding from the drumming street performers, and the honks of the taxicabs. He chanted the words in a tune that never changed.
“Turn back to the hand of God. For the kingdom of God is near.”
He didn’t look like anybody else. His skin was as dark and smooth as black marble, while a long silver braid draped down his back. His cloudy bluish-gray eyes indicated cataracts, and he used his white cane to pace from the street corner to the newspaper stand, his words matching the rhythm of each step. People walked by him as if he didn’t exist, but I couldn’t look away.
“Clearly you don’t get out much.” Lisa nudged me. “It’s impolite to stare, ya know?”
“He can’t see me. It’s obvious he’s blind.” I pointed. “Plus, we don’t get this free entertainment back home.”
She swatted at my hand until I stopped pointing. “Jesus, Doug. You make us look like tourists. Just take a picture and move on.”
“Watch it, baby. Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain. You don’t want him to rebuke you.”
I playfully swatted her backside as I turned my attention back to the man. He was dressed in black pants and a long-sleeved waist length linen shirt. Kind of hot for the Chicago summer heat but it looked like blazing weather didn’t bother him much. I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures. “Do you realize he’s said the same thing about fifty times within the past few minutes? My old man used to always talk this craziness when I was a kid. Looks like Chicago has some interesting folks.”
Lisa nodded. “You mean weirdos?”
“Hey now.” I swallowed.
“I’m just saying, baby, you fit right in. Welcome home.”
I took a few steps closer to the corner and noticed an empty glass jar on the ground in front of him. He wasn’t asking anyone for money, but I had to give the man some credit for trying. I dug around my pants pocket and found a few quarters, two silver dollars and some pennies. I didn’t believe in the old man’s gibberish, but I still felt compelled to toss some change into his jar.
“Uh, what do you think you’re doing?” Lisa flagged down a cab.
“Just getting rid of some change.”
“You didn’t even give any change to those cute drummer kids up the street. Don’t support this fool’s craziness.” She winked at me as she opened the cab door.
I put my silver dollars back in my pocket and got in the cab.
As I slid in next to her, Lisa leaned over and nibbled on my ear.
“Play now. Repent later. Who wants to stop anyway, especially when playing feels so good?”
My pulse quickened as she licked her full lips. The cab driver cleared his throat and eyeballed us in the rearview mirror.
“Dinner or Hilton?” she asked me.
“I’m hungry,” I whispered between kisses. She poked out her bottom lip as she climbed back over to her side. I loved making her squirm.
“Very hungry,” I repeated. “Hilton hotel on Michigan,” I told the cab driver.
Lisa flashed her sexy, mischievous grin. “Well you’re lucky that this Southern woman knows how to cook.” She leaned to the front of the car. “Don’t worry, honey,” she told the driver. “We can wait if you hurry.”
God, I loved this woman.
As the light turned green, I took a final peek at the corner. For the first time since I laid eyes on him, the old man was silent. He stood frozen in one spot, and even with his cataracts, he seemed to stare directly into our cab. I felt certain he saw straight into my soul.
**************
After a few rounds of tequila shots at the bar and a few go rounds with Chef Lisa in our hotel room, we rented a car and found our way to a casino in the outskirts of Chicago. Watching Lisa win at the blackjack table reminded me of the first day I met her at a dive bar in Memphis six months ago. I watched her beat three men at the pool table for almost an hour before she finally headed my way in her skintight red dress and matching stilettos. She was older than me. Untamed. And sexy as hell. All women. No drama. I bought her a drink. She invited me back to her place. And we’ve been good ever since. When I mentioned taking a weekend trip to Chicago, she jumped at the chance to come with me.
Seven hundred dollars down, I decided to play the quarter slot machines. Lisa had brought in enough cash that night to recoup the loss. She loved spoiling me with gifts. She was generous that way. One of the things I loved about her the most outside of the bedroom.
I scrolled through the photos I took that afternoon. Lisa slid behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
I put my phone in my pocket. “Nothing. Just thinking. Ready to call it a night?”
“I’ve had enough wins for one night. I think it’s time for someone else to get lucky. Don’t ya think?”
I turned around and kissed her forehead. “Let’s go now.”
We headed back to the hotel around midnight. The GPS sent us in the wrong direction, and we got lost. Lisa had won $1,500 and was in an incredibly good mood so she didn’t complain. Neither of us was tired, so we took the detour as an opportunity to sightsee. I eventually found the highway, and we made our way back downtown.
When we came to a stop sign, Lisa unfastened her seatbelt and told me she had worked up an appetite in the casino. Not one to turn down free refills, I leaned over and kissed her. After a few seconds, a car horn blared behind us. I pointed to an empty street parking spot ahead.
“We can park right there, baby,” I said, nearly speeding through the intersection.
She kissed my ear. And then, everything happened so quickly. The car from the right ran the stop sign, ramming into the passenger side of our car at full speed. I lost control, the car skidded across both lanes and into oncoming traffic. A semi-truck came right toward us. As the blaring of multiple horns rang out in the darkness, I closed my eyes and waited for death to come.
Somehow, we skidded past the truck missing it by seconds before we landed in a ditch on the other side of the street. I sat there paralyzed in shock, trying to catch my breath. Moments passed before I heard the sirens wailing in the distance. I opened my eyes and saw Lisa’s head pressed against the dashboard.
“Lisa, are you okay?” I reached across the seat to touch her shoulder. She winced as I carefully lifted her head and leaned her back in the seat. I found her hand and held it as the siren grew closer. Besides the small gash above her eyebrow, Lisa showed no signs of bleeding or serious injury from what I could see in the dark car. I knew it was best to wait until the paramedics arrived before I moved her any further. She was crying now, more from being scared than from pain. Because she had unfastened her seatbelt, she could have gone through the window. My body shivered from the thought.
“We’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be fine,” I whispered repeatedly, needing my own words to comfort both of us. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes until the sirens closed in.
**************
A thorough physical exam at the hospital showed that I was fine. The doctor prescribed pain medicine just in case I experienced soreness over the next couple of days.
I sat in the waiting room and munched on stale chips from the vending machine while I waited for the doc’s update on Lisa. After stretching out my sore legs on the hard leather couch, I pulled out my wallet and stared at a black and white photograph of two young boys standing next to a man who, though small in stature, stood tall like a giant with dark skin, long brown hair and deep, dark brown eyes. The picture was taken twenty years ago in Harlem on the last day I saw him. We had spent the afternoon walking around the streets of New York and came across some of my father’s friends, a small group of men known as Brimstone Billy and the Holy Rollers gang. My old man referred to them as the city street preachers.
Our father was never big on giving money to the homeless because he feared they would use it on drugs and alcohol, but every time we walked by these street preachers, he would toss money in their jars.
“These men are not beggars,” he told us. “They are prophets of God who have come to deliver a message to His people. Sometimes love, sometimes warning. See boys, God loves you, but don’t ever awaken His wrath. Then, only His mercy can help you.”
He then placed two silver dollars in each of our hands. “It will do you good to offer them what you have and to sow a seed into their lives for delivering a message from God Himself. You must always bless others who are doing the work of the Lord. And then you will be blessed greatly.”
“How do we know they’re for real?” my brother asked.
“Because their words will confirm what we already know as the truth. You must trust and believe that they speak the truth to free us and call our hearts to repent and turn back to God.”
I watched my brother toss both of his coins in the street preacher’s cup before I tossed in mine. But I kept one of the silver dollars in my pocket. My father’s eyes pierced right through me, waiting for me to give away all that I had. He knew I didn’t want to sacrifice all of my money, but he didn’t call me out on it. When he asked us several hours later if we gave all our coins away, I simply nodded yes.
He then gave both of us double the amount of silver dollars we started with — we each got four dollars apiece, although he knew I had kept a silver dollar for myself.
My mother left my father that same night and took us to Kentucky with her, not granting us the chance to say goodbye. She said she didn’t want to be a preacher’s wife anymore. She said she met someone new. My old man disappeared after that, and my mother made sure we never saw him again.
A light tap on my shoulder snapped me out of my trance. I looked up and saw Dr. Mast hovering over me. His chubby face was dotted with acne. The doctor barely glanced at me as he gave me the update. They were keeping Lisa another night for observations, mainly because of her bruises and a mild concussion.
“She’s going to be okay, right?” I asked.
He rubbed his bumpy chin. “Are you her husband? We’ll need her medical history.”
“A friend,” I said with a half-smile. “We’re not from here actually. We’re supposed to be leaving tomorrow. It’ll be good to know how she’s doing, though, for traveling purposes.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not able to discuss her condition with anyone but family.” He lowered his voice. “I can say that she’ll be fine. But I’m not sure about putting her on a plane tomorrow.” He looked at me. “Is someone in her family coming up? Have they been notified?”
I hesitated. “I believe I can arrange that.”
I pulled out my phone and dialed her husband’s number.
**************
Now that our secret was out and Lisa’s husband was on his way to Chicago, I felt better about leaving the hospital. I knew she would be in good hands. I stopped by her room to say goodbye before I left. She was sound asleep, just as I hoped. When I kissed her forehead, her eyes opened. She begged me not to go, her words slurring together from drowsiness. Before her eyes closed again, I told her James had taken the first flight out and was on the way. Alarm and panic flashed across her eyes, but I also could tell she was relieved. We both knew that he should be there with her. Not me.
By the time I left the hospital, it was early afternoon. I hailed a cab and headed back toward the downtown train station. It was time to face the real reason I came to Chicago.
As the driver whizzed through the streets, I pulled out my phone to look at the picture I had taken of my old man yesterday and held it up to the black and white photo. Even back then, my father never looked like anyone else. I continued to stare at the two pictures, mesmerized that he was still very much alive although my mother had told us he was dead.
The cab dropped me off near the Ogilvie Metra station. Empty streets replaced yesterday’s hustle and bustle. No sign of drummer boys or downtown commuters in gym shoes pacing the city with briefcases. I wandered the streets in silence.
When I arrived back to the corner where I first had seen my old man, he was nowhere in sight. I sat on the closest bench and waited an hour for him to show up, but he never did. I took the long route back to the hotel, desperately hoping to find him. Ready to toss everything I had into his jar.
