Once More into the Breach with Mark (Part 3)

Rain was falling the next day at noon. I drove to the store. No Mark. I returned an hour later. No Mark.

I drove to the store the next day at noon. No Mark. I took Elmer to the wildlife refuge for a long walk. I returned to the store. No Mark! But I did encounter three other members of the Old Crow Book Club in the parking lot and it was a grand reunion, mostly because I always think one or more might end up dead.

Donnie was fresh out of detox and shilling papers like a carnival barker.

Sean and Jacob were hanging out in Sean's new mobile domicile, a tricked out van from the 90s, drinking malt liquor and sharing a joint. Sean was looking better than I'd seen him in a year. Jacob told me he'd quit his job at a deli because too many people were using hard drugs there. He'd just put in application a a burger and beer joint across the street from the grocery store and was confident he would score the gig.

I asked where the hell Mark was. They didn't know. I gave them the lowdown on the new outreach program and how it imperative it was for Mark to camp out in front of the store in the afternoons the next three days. He had to hear the news that a worker had called me and said he was going out to look for Mark. Something was in the wind! I gave Donnie a note I had written Mark with all the particulars and told him to give it to Mark if he saw him.

Another vendor of the paper came up, a formerly homeless man and military veteran named Troy who had let Mark crash in his subsidized apartment during the recent cold snap. He said Mark was on his way, walking down the avenue.

Upon hearing that news, I started running toward Mark's direction. He had to hear about the new positive development from me.

It's a strange and incredible feeling to be jogging toward a homeless man who is your friend and needs help and you may have some help to offer.

Three blocks later, I saw Mark, somewhat hunched over, walking very slowly toward me. I came to a walk and yelled out to him. He saw me and waved. We met. I gave him the news and informed him of his duty to be at the grocery store during the designated hours. It might not amount to anything. It could be everything.

I walked back to the grocery store with Mark and said I'd check back the next day to see if contact had been made.

The next day I met Mark in front of the store. He was reading a book and sipping a can of malt liquor. It was 41 degrees and raining. I asked him if anyone from the city had contacted him.

YES! YES! YES!

The outreach worker briefly interviewed Mark, apparently inputted some information, and said Mark was now on a waiting list (of some kind) for a spot at a nearby Safe Rest Village. Apparently there was new money allocated or finally being spent to place the residents of Safe Rest Villages into subsidized apartments, thereby opening up spaces.

Mark wasn't sure how the worker would contact him once a space became available. I still didn't understand why the new program didn't allow a staffer to call me.

I was downright giddy at the good news. Mark was substantially more subdued. He said he'd believe it when it happened and I couldn't argue with that.

A song popped into my mind, Journey's “Don't Stop Believing.” I loathe that 80s schmaltz classic, but I started belting it out and Mark nodded along. I saw a couple of people watching me sing and they looked a little sour, kind of like those folks did in the opening title sequence of the Mary Tyler Moore Show when Mary tosses her knitted hat up in the air in the middle of downtown crowd because she's so on fire to live and put her special positive energy into everyone around her. Who can turn the world on with her smile?

“We're almost there Mark,” I said.

“I know,” he said.

“I didn't even have to go full on Jim Rockford. I'm almost sad.”

We laughed, said goodbye, and I drifted away while Mark went back to reading his book.