Forgetting
As I walked home carrying three empty boxes from the liquor store in preparation to move Dad into assisted living, I saw Donny asleep or passed out on the sidewalk and Mark sitting down, with a novel in his hands, but not reading it. He was looking toward the convenience store and haranguing a man standing near there, approximately 20 yards away.
It was two in the afternoon. Mark's target was a Black man, thin, bedraggled, and somewhat older in age, maybe in his 50s but was hard to tell. He was standing by himself with no possessions on or around him. I'd never seen him before.
I went over to investigate to ask Mark what the hell was going on.
He gave me the lowdown while simultaneously continuing his harangue. The man had been standing there for 45 minutes, and according to Mark, waiting for Mark to fall asleep so he could rip off his two garbage bags full of cans and bottles. Mark knew he was being cased and shouted to the man to get the hell away. If you want to take my shit, then come down here and face me like a man!
The man didn't respond as Mark harangued him. Nor did he leave. He swayed his upper body side to side in a bizarre manner.
Having his possessions repeatedly stolen was the consistent bane of Mark's homelessness and we had discussed this many times. It was the chief reason he wanted off the streets. Mark was sick of other homeless people preying upon him and his homeless friends. He didn't do that and it pissed him off when someone did.
I looked toward the man. Mark's suspicion seemed plausible. The man was acting in a highly strange manner, even for a homeless man.
Mark launched another broadside and the man finally drifted away.
I was about to ask Mark if he'd given any more thought about calling the Street Response Team. It had been several weeks since we'd last discussed the topic. But I didn't ask. I needed to get home and start packing up. The move was in less than a week.
Mark asked me about the boxes. I reminded him that Dad was moving into assisted living. I'd already told Mark about the development several times.
It occurred to me that Mark had forgotten about it. It occurred to me that he had forgotten about our strategy of him calling the Street Response Team. It occurred to me that his chronic alcoholism had probably impaired his short term memory because there was nothing wrong with his long term.
I said goodbye and walked home.