sadness

Sadness.

 

            The gusty wind whirled itself against my coat with a cold, calculated vengeance, the cold knifing deep into the only part of my not covered with thick clothing. My ankles began to numb, and I briefly rubbed them, forcing blood back into my frozen feet. All over the street, there was no one in sight. No one would be insane enough to venture from their fireplaces in the horrible winter weather. Yet here I was, as though some irresistible force had dragged me out of my warm electric bed, past the steaming piles of boarders’ clothes in front of the quaint fireplace where real logs crackled, and into the sordid weather that had plagued London for the past few weeks.

 

            The snow had bleached everything a gloomy, pale white, like a corpse bled of all its lifeblood. Even rats had the common sense to stay in their mouse holes, cold as it was. Then, I saw it.

 

            The green sleeve was torn and tattered and frayed at the edges, but an ungloved finger poked from the end of it, and though the temperature was close to freezing, the finger was still pink and healthy. Attached to it was a shapeless bundle of frayed, tattered scarves, their patterns mixing in a psychedelic yet pleasing way, crosses seemed to meld into polka dots, and the dots in turn banded into lines. I pulled gently on the sleeve, yelling above the howl of the wind. “Hey there! Get into the boarder’s home now! You are going to freeze if you stay here much longer.” The man had wispy gray hair poking out from the bottom of his balaclava, and his cheeks were a healthy ruddy red, if not gaunt. I cursed under my breath as the slick, ice coated fingers of my gloves slipped their hold on the pink finger, and it disappeared instantly in a barrage of ice. Then, the rest of the gloved hand clutched onto my sleeve. I yanked the man upright, and then hoisted his underarm over my shoulder. His eyes were bleared, just as my roommate hade described, and his steps were unsteady. His clothes were nothing but rags pieced neatly together, and the pitifully thin, sharp frame stuck out unpleasantly into my own.

 

            The man’s eyes closed in silent bliss as I sat him in front of the crackling logs, steam rising off both of us like the clouds must have off the Olympians descending from the sacred mountaintops. I placed the hot cocoa under his nose, and he inhaled greedily, and murmured a muffled thank you. I sat down next to him, the warmth seeping into my bones. His eyes seemed far away, and the firelight reflected vacantly in them. Finally, steam stopped rising off both of us, but he was still in his reverie. Pulling gently on his sleeve, I woke him, and was surprised to see a tear trickle down a weather beaten cheek. “is anything the matter?” I asked. His eyes began to tear, and soon a flood unleashed itself.

 

            “this is the first time anyone’s been so kind to me!” he wept, and as the flames that crackled in the quaint old fireplace began to warm his body, it began to warm my heart. I offered him another cup of cocoa, and he willingly accepted. “you’re the nicest gentleman I’ve met in a while, and my own kids deserted my ages ago. The government forgot all about me, and I had to live like a bum! I used to be a lawyer, for goodness sake.” The man had begun to stare into the fire again.

 

            “what happened?” I asked, eager to know more about the man who had drunk himself to oblivion just to get away from it all by freezing himself to death. “what’s your name?”

 

            “Patrick Dempsey.” I gave a start. So this was the legendary lawyer of wall street, now reduced to such a state? I felt a pang of agony for the bundle of robes in front of me.

           

            “You know… you could always stay with me. I’m sure the landlady doesn’t mind one more person, and I’m a lawyer too, I can easily pay for both of us.”  The man looked up, eyes hopeful. “Well, I know your story, and I still respect you, even though some of us don’t.” I broke off, too embarrassed to continue, so I didn’t notice when the bundle of rags suddenly embraced me in a tight bear hug. And I looked into the old, knowledgeable eyes of the old lawyer, and I saw that I had begun  a healing to the hurts inflicted upon him by time and circumstance. I had begun to heal his sadness.