Burger and Fries

Brian walked along Liberty Avenue heading for the diner. As he approached his old haunt, he noted the homeless man sitting on the grate just beside the diner. He wore the same dingy clothes he had worn at the mission days earlier. His brown coat didn’t look all that warm, but at least it would keep out some of the wind. Brian could see a hole in the sole of the boots that was visible from under his body. A battered old baseball cap with the old Pittsburgh Pirates logo rested on the sidewalk beside him. Brian could see that it held a few coins as he drew closer.

Brian reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around his goal. He wondered how many times he had walked past people like Jerome Harkness without ever seeing them. But not this time.

As Brian approached the man he dropped the item from his pocket into the man’s battered old baseball cap. Brian kept on walking.

“Hey!”

Brian stopped and turned, looking into the surprised eyes that stared back at him. “Yes?” Brian said innocently.

“This is a hundred dollars,” the homeless man said.

“That’s correct.”

“There must be some mistake.”

“No mistake.”

“But…”

“Do you remember me?” Brian asked. “I’m Gus’ father.” He thought maybe that was the best way to introduce himself to the homeless man.

Inquisitive eyes studied Brian carefully. “Brian Kinney, from the Mission,” Jerome said after a minute.

“Correct, Mr. Harkness.” Brian had wondered if the homeless man would remember him from the week before when the staff of Kinnetik had served Christmas dinners at the Harbor Light Mission. That’s when Gus had introduced Brian to Jerome Harkness.

“I can’t take a hundred dollars from you,” Jerome said extending his hand towards Brian with the hundred dollar bill clasped in it.

“You certainly can,” Brian replied. “You gave my son something much more valuable.”

Jerome smiled slightly. “I thought Gus would like it, and would give it a good home.”

“Would you care to join me in the diner for a bite to eat?” Brian asked. “We could discuss your Purple Heart in more pleasant surroundings.” Brian pulled the collar of his camel hair coat up around his neck as the wind whistled past him down the street.

Jerome looked like he was about to refuse then he seemed to change his mind. “I could use a cup of hot coffee,” he said getting up slowly.

Brian watched the man’s somewhat slow movements and wondered how many injuries Jerome had suffered. Jerome grabbed his beaten up old hat, scooped out the coins and placed it on his head. When Jerome was fully standing, Brian turned and entered the diner hoping Jerome was following him.

It was a little early for lunch, but Brian had chosen this time of day deliberately. The diner only had a couple of customers. It was quiet and they could talk undisturbed. Betty approached them, as Brian noted that Debbie was not there. Thank goodness for small mercies.

Betty’s nose wrinkled in disapproval as she watched Jerome slide into the booth across from Brian. “What would you like?” she asked with distaste.

“We’ll have a couple of coffees,” Brian said to her. “I’d like a burger and fries, same for my friend.”

Betty’s eyebrow shot up before she could control it. “Okaaay,” she said uncertainly before moving away to place the orders and get the coffeepot.

“Mr. Kinney…” Jerome started to protest.

“Lunch is on me,” Brian said before Jerome could mount a protest. “And call me Brian.”

Betty returned and poured them each a cup of coffee. She gave Brian a strange look obviously wondering what the handsome and wealthy man was doing with a down-and-out misfit like the man across the table from him.

When she was done, Jerome said, “Okay, I’ll call you Brian, if you call me Jerome. And why are you doing this?”

“Gus likes you.”

“That’s it?” Jerome asked. He placed his hands over the cup of coffee for a minute to warm them, before taking a drink. “Just because your son likes me, you give me a hundred dollars and invite me to lunch?”

Brian nodded, and then added. “And because I didn’t see you all the times I’ve come in here and you’ve been sitting outside.”

Jerome studied Brian’s face for a second, before nodding in acknowledgment of Brian’s apology for failing to see a homeless person.

Betty returned to place the orders in front of them. She shook her head, gave Brian a funny look and walked away. Brian picked up a French fry and nibbled on the end of it. Jerome watched the nibble and grabbed his burger taking a huge bite out of it. He let out a satisfied moan as he chewed.

“This is delicious,” Jerome said when he finally swallowed.

“Glad you’re enjoying it,” Brian replied finishing his first French fry.

“You don’t eat much, do you?”

“I try not to.”

Jerome chuckled and took another bite of his burger. “Your hundred bucks will buy me quite a few of these.”

“I suppose it will. But a job would ensure you could have a burger whenever you wanted one.”

“A job?”

“Yeah, you know that process where you go to a business everyday and they pay you at the end of the week,” Brian explained.

“Who’s going to give the likes of me a job?”

“Me.”

“You? But … you work at some high fallutin’ advertising agency, don’t you?” Jerome asked, his eyes showing his inability to comprehend what Brian was telling him.

“I own a high fallutin’ advertising agency, and I’m offering you a job.”

Jerome almost choked as he tried to swallow the food in his mouth. “Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“But why?”

“Gus likes you.”

Jerome shook his head. “I like Gus too, but I can’t take a job. I don’t know anything about advertising.”

Brian looked thoughtful for a moment. “This isn’t an advertising job … exactly. It’s a job at my company Kinnetik, but you’d be…”

“The janitor?”

“No, we already have one of those. And would that be so bad?” Brian asked. “What I am proposing is that you’d be a kind of errand person in the company for anyone who needs something sent somewhere in a hurry. You might be asked to run out and get something that we don’t have in stock. You’d be a go-fer for anything that is needed, at least in the beginning.”

Jerome shook his head again. “You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

“I can’t take your job, or any job.”

“Why not?”

Jerome swallowed his last bite of the burger and pushed the plate away. He drew in a breath. “Don’t you think I’ve had jobs?”

“I don’t know.”

“At least that’s honest. I have had jobs as janitor and prep cook and busboy and… It doesn’t matter. I’ve had jobs and they don’t work out.”

“Why not?” Brian asked with a frown.

“I … I get these headaches. There’s something wrong in my head since the explosion in Viet Nam. It took me years to get out of the hospital. But the headaches are still there.”

“You could have days off when you get a headache,” Brian suggested.

Jerome sadly shook his head again. “I go kind of crazy when the headaches strike. I’m not … fit to be around. Anywhere that I’ve lived, they’ve thrown me out after one of my … episodes.”

“How often do these episodes happen?” Brian asked with concern in his voice. Maybe there was a lot more to this story than just a former soldier living on the streets.

Jerome shrugged. “It’s hard to say. They’re not predictable. I’ve been good for several months now, but all that means is that when the headaches come next time they will be worse than ever.”

“I … didn’t know.”

“It’s not something I’ve told many people. But it’s better if I’m on the streets. Out in the open I can … scream and pound my head without anyone knowing. I can kick trees instead of walls or … people.”

“Should … should you be back in the hospital?”

“They’ve done all they can, and … I don’t like being locked up.”

Brian stared at Jerome trying to decide what he could stay. Finally he said, “I found out that you got your Purple Heart for pulling three injured men to safety before a grenade exploded.”

“Yeah, but one of my men I couldn’t get to,” Jerome said sadly. There was a haunted look in his eyes.

“And you suffered major impact when the grenade went off?”

“Never been the same since. Some things I recovered from, but others…”

“Are you sure you won’t take the job?” Brian asked.

“I’m sure. It wouldn’t work.”

“Okay,” Brian gave in. “Hope you liked your lunch.”

“I ate more of mine than you did of yours,” Jerome laughed.

“I wish you well, Jerome,” Brian said extending his hand.

“Thanks, Brian. It was nice talking to you,” Jerome replied. He wiped his hand on his paper napkin before shaking Brian’s hand and standing up. “Tell Gus goodbye for me.”

“Goodbye?” Brian asked, but Jerome was halfway to the door of the diner, ramming his battered old baseball cap onto his head. He didn’t stop.

Brian watched him hurry up the street, not realizing that would be the last time he would ever see Jerome Harkness. He never did find out what happened to Jerome. Gus looked for the man every time he went to the diner, but no one seemed to know what had happened to him. Maybe he moved on to another part of the city or another city altogether. Maybe he had another bout of headaches, ones so powerful he couldn’t cope. Maybe Jerome was dead.

Whatever the result Gus cherished the Purple Heart that sat on his dresser in a little case that Brian had got for it. Gus said he would always remember Jerome. And maybe that’s all that Jerome had wanted when he gave the medal to the little boy – to be acknowledged and remembered.           

Feedback for Thyme

or email to thymewriter@gmail.com

                       Return to Hat Challenge