Daylight I

I liked her ass, face, smile, eyes, hairdo. Little of a shock how much.
And she liked what I said. Smiled and turned away to hide it.
Got my medicine. I was shivering for few hours already and that’s what I was hiding.
Missed my medicine for two days already, didn’t sleep most of the night.
Pain was really bad for few hours now. Couldn’t concentrate.
– do you have any questions for your pharmacist?
She didn’t smile this time.
– No. I’d better don’t. I would ask you for your phone number.
I walked.
Pharmacy girl is a tough prey. She knows you are a lost cause. Girls at the banks are easier when you have money on the account. Had three of them in good times.
Took double doses right away to see if that could help and it did. Two hours later pain was gone.
I could think but through the wall of numbness.
That was after we went to eat. Me and Guatemalski.
Guatemalski is from Guatemala but knows so many phrases in Polish we call him Guatemalski.
Teaches me phrases in Spanish. We went to Latino place and I was ordering in Spanish.
The girl enjoyed my broken effort. We both laughed. At some point she thought I spoke better Spanish than I did and started talking and talking and talking…about something. Guatemalski laughed too.  She was making fun of me asking about everything and nothing while I made “si” and big smile my remedy. It worked.
She brought food to our table, sat next to me and talked some with Guatemalski.
He explained we were both students – me of Spanish and him of Polish.
Then M. called and even though he is from Slovakia, we speak in Polish.
The homeless guy sitting by the entry stood up upon hearing me and sat by the table to my right, staring at me.
Each time I looked at him he looked away. I looked at Guatemalski, the homeless started staring at me again.
I was sure he was Polish. Big blue eyes, European face, poor and in torn, dirty cloths but clean himself with delicate hands. It is feminine habit to look at man’s hands. I finished conversion on the phone.
– Are you hungry?
– yhm…
I didn’t know what he meant except it was obvious he was.
– what do you want?
– yhmmmmmm…
Many hand gestures. Look of an orchestra director going through allegro ma non troppo part of the piece.
He was pretending not to be desperate, cared about his dignity during imaginary performance. I stopped asking, stood up and went to order what I had.
The girl smiled:
– You like it here.
– I do but this is for the homeless guy. Give him rolls instead of fajitas though.
I was going to give him my fajitas which I put aside for later, it was too much food.
Went back to my table. Guatemalski and the Homeless were staring at each other. Guatamalski is a sensitive and educated guy.
The homeless  got bolder.
– Where are you from? I asked.
– Russia.
He surprised my with quick answer.
– What city?
– yhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Wouldn’t tell. Dignity thing again. Had face of a very soft, good man but broke mentally somewhere. Reminded me of another Russian guy I used to see years, years ago at the bank in Bucktown. He would enter the lobby, get free coffee and donuts and leave. Was a medic in Nam and lost his sanity there. Head loving people care for him.
Same absence in the very intelligent, you would say, good eyes.
The girl brought homeless man meal and put the plate in front of him. He started eating like a prince in distress. Etiquette was not compromised but he was visibly hungry. She told his story in Spanish to Guatemalski while I looked at him and later … her boobs right by ma face. She saw it and smiled again.
Before I left – I sat next to him and put my arm around his shoulders
– everything will get better – I said in Russian.
Smell was … that’s OK. His face was of an intellectual. They break the easiest. Left my fajitas on his plate.
After we left I asked Guatemalski to borrow me ten bucks. Now I was missing it to pay for my medicines.
He listened to my music in my car when I came back.
– Guatemalski, you should have seen this girl at the pharmacy, fuck!!!
I was shivering pretty bad by then. Holding it was pretty tough.
He looked at me the way he looked at the homeless Russian only twenty minutes earlier.
Yes, Guatemalski is a sensitive guy.
While I am writing this ,five cops just took a conference table next to mine. I guess I can leave everything: phone, laptop, credit card, food, tea, backpack and walk to my car to get the medicines. I got some more work to do and it is pain to pack everything. It is such a nice working set up. I am writing “Ashland”.
After they close I go swimming. When I don’t have my medicines I sleep in my Jacuzzi. I tried last night. Didn’t work but still helped somehow.
“Ashland” is a play now, with which I  try to teach my nephew not to do what I did – he is handsome and smart and might have the same genetic problem. We are all murdered by death and death is blind to its cause, it just wants to come. Transform. I want it to dance to me. It dances on medieval paintings. I want to remind death the good times.

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