**A LOST SOUL **
I walked up to pay my check and found the waitress discussing a bill with a young man. He was short a few dollars and seemed quite distressed and lost as to what to do. His clothes looked a bit tattered and grimy.
"Let me take care of that. What does he owe? $11.95; OK. Here is a twenty, give him a five and keep the change as a tip."
"Thank you, Sir!"
"It's nothing. I've been in your shoes before. Have a good day and think nothing of it."
I returned to my room and then checked out of the motel. As I drove through the lot of the diner next door, I saw the young man sitting on a bench dejectedly looking at his knees. I parked the car and went over and sat down next to him. "You look like you lost your last friend?"
"It's OK. I'll be on my way in a few minutes."
"Where you headed?"
"Up the road a little."
"Do you have a car?"
"I'm walking."
"It's colder than Siberia out here and you're not dressed warmly at all. How far `up the road' are you going?"
"Don't know."
"Here, come sit in my warm car and let's talk about this thing. Trust me. You don't seem to have anyone else to trust."
We sat in the car for a little while. His name was Tommie Snow. I learned that he had nothing whatsoever to his name. His dad who is a free-lance photographer and his assistant met up with him at his mother's funeral two weeks earlier. His dad had left him when he was very young. He and his dad had never gotten along well. His Dad thought of him as an embarrassingly weak soft freak. He nicknamed him `Snowflake' and always put him down. He and his Mom had been drifting homeless forever. His mother had drunk heavily and recently died of pancreatitis on top of cirrhosis of the liver. His Dad had shown up to see if his Mother had anything of value. He had put up Tommie in the motel with him for a week but suddenly disappeared leaving two paid nights. All things ended this morning!
"I'll be alright. I still have my life and my dignity."
"Well this is awkward. Trust me. I won't do anything to hurt your life or your dignity. You're not supposed to talk to, trust, or hop into cars with strangers. But you have little to lose. How old are you?"
"Twenty-two, Sir! I'll be alright."
"Listen, I live some five hundred miles north on I-75. Let me take you home, feed you, and get you cleaned up. Do you have anything at the motel?"
"No Sir. What you see is what I have: two shoes, this pair of pants, and this shirt. I have a wallet that holds my driver's license, but no money. I have an old picture of my Mother in there." "Alright let me see you driver's license. Yup, you are twenty-two, old enough to live on your own. Do you have a car somewhere?"
"No, we once had a car and I keep the license for identification. I have only what you see here!"
"Well you take your chances coming with me or freezing to death out here. I can't steal anything from you so no concerns from that aspect. I don't see you have any other rational choice. Trust me. Let me take you in for a little while. We'll get you cleaned up and some respectable duds. I'm not a rich man but I can afford to keep you warm, feed you, and buy you at least a simple conservative wardrobe. When things get settled, we can figure and plan a future for you."
"But you don't know me..."
"No buts, all your roads seem to end right here. If you don't want to come with me, I'll call the police and social services to rescue you."
"PLEASE, I never want to deal with social services ever!! My Mom would stay with men from time to time and always found money when we needed it. I'll find a protected place to sleep tonight and figure something out!"
"OK the protected place to sleep tonight will be my small home, and you can continue to `figure something out'. As I see it you have one of three choices to make: one come with me, two freeze to death out there, or Social Services. If you want either of the second two, get out of the car now and I will drive off."
He sat quietly for several minutes not moving. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. "I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I have no money and nowhere to go. I don't know you either. You seem nice and I appreciate you paying for my breakfast. But I'm still afraid to go with you. You MIGHT kill me or worse. But this weather and homeless WILL kill me or worse. I don't really have a choice. PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!"
"I can't settle your fears right now. I can't make you trust me right now. I can't make you happy right now. But, let's take small steps at a time. I believe your fears will subside, you WILL trust me, and you will be happy. You just must take small steps at a time and let me prove it to you. NOW, put on your seat belt or open that door." Tears continued to stream down his face. He was shaking and shivering either from fear or cold. He was staring at his feet. His left hand attempted to move twice and stopped. Finally, he very slowly reached over, took the seatbelt, and buckled it. I reached over and put my hand firmly on his left knee. "I think you'll find that to be a good choice." I gently removed my hand from his knee, started the engine, turned up the heat, and drove to I-75 north. We drove nearly a half hour without talking.