Fiction: Freddy's Misfortune Is Another's Fortune

Alan and Julie were on a high. Some guy, out of the blue, had handed Julie a twenty dollar bill and coupled with their other handouts for the day, they figured they had enough for a little celebration. The liquor store was kind enough to serve them but they did have to flash their money up front. There had been a few incidents in the past where old man McLeod had gotten really pissed when they showed up at his store already half cut and it turned out they didn't have enough money to pay for what they wanted. Of course, that one time Alan lost his balance staggering to the counter and dropped a thirty dollar bottle of whiskey on the floor didn't help. Fortunately, old man McLeod wasn't working at the time; it was some snot nosed punk who thought he was better than the grubbies who came in to buy booze. Alan had stared blankly at the bottle smashed into a million pieces on the floor wondering if he could lick up the precious liquid on the floor as the punk came running from behind the counter screaming, "Get the hell out of here, you drunken bastard!"

Julie had taken Alan's arm and the two of walked unsteadily. They were taking turns passing the brown paper bag containing the whiskey bottle back and forth. Each swig burned but that warm glow spreading through your belly more than made up for rawness of your throat. Alan chuckled to himself thinking that with Julie taking his arm, it was like they were a couple. Maybe not the best dressed couple and how many couples walked in the street sharing a bottle of whiskey? Ah, who cares? When you feel good, the world is your oyster. Besides, in the middle of summer nobody on the street had much to worry about in terms of shelter. The temperature was good for sleeping out in the open anywhere and the only thing you had to worry about was the rain. Fortunately, Alan and Julie had found an out of the way alley which had an overhang. The building was currently deserted waiting demolition so there was never anybody even a security guard to chase them out. Hopefully none of the other street people would discover it.

Julie enjoyed taking Alan's arm. It was comforting. She wore no make-up and certainly wasn't dressed very well. With one front tooth missing, she knew she didn't look like much of a prospect at all. Nevertheless, holding onto Alan's arm and feeling the whiskey ease her mood she had a momentary respite from brutality of a life with no hope.

"I got us a snack," said Alan.

Julie looked up at Alan as they continued walking. "What?"

"Yep, I bought us some potato chips earlier and I have them stashed at our place." Alan stood about half a foot taller than Julie. He looked down at her upraised face and smiled at her. "It's party time! We've got the drink now we're going to have the food."

The two of them turned the corner where the building to be demolished was located. They walked half a block north then turned into the narrow street separating the buildings. A hundred yards up, there was an alley. It had a gate but the padlock was broken. Anybody walking by would see the padlock and assume it was locked. Plus, it being set back from the main thoroughfare, nobody could see it. That must explain why the two of them had been sleeping there off and on for several months now without ever seeing anybody else.

Alan unhooked the padlock and swung the gate open. "After you, Madame," said Alan as he gallantly swept his arm towards the opening as a gesture for Julie to walk through. Julie giggled. Once the two of them were inside, Alan reached around and put the padlock back in place to fool any passersby.

The two of them walked twenty or so feet up the alley then went around a dumpster which was only partially full of old lumber and such, not garbage. Both of them at one time or another had slept in an alley with garbage dumpsters and yes, they could stink to high heaven. This time they were lucky to have found an alley which was both private and smelling half decent. Alan and Julie walked behind the dumpster where Alan had arranged their worldly possessions: one grocery cart from Loblaw's full of odds and ends, two buckets which served as stools and several pieces of cardboard making up both the mattress and cover of their bed. It wasn't much but it was theirs.

"Ah, now for our snack," said Alan as he handed Julie the brown bag with the whiskey bottle. He walked to the grocery cart and stuck his hand under a plastic sheet which was tucked over the top of the cart protecting the contents. He felt around a bit then yanked out a large bag of potato chips. They each sat down on one of the buckets. There was a single overhead light at the end of the alley by a loading dock. It was dim but cast enough light so they could see one another in the twilight as they ate chips and drank the whiskey.

"What a stroke of luck. Not many people give any change never mind giving a twenty dollar bill," Julie said. She stuck her hand in the bag and pulled out a handful of chips.

"It has its ups and downs. Sometimes you get generous people; sometimes they just couldn't care less." Alan looked reflective for a moment before tipping the brown bag up and taking a pull on the whiskey bottle. He swirled the liquor around his mouth before swallowing. It burned. He cleared his throat then something went down the wrong way and he started coughing.

"Are you all right?" asked Julie. She looked at Alan with wide eyes as Alan continued to cough trying to dislodge whatever had gotten into his windpipe. Julie continued to eat the handful of chips she had putting one in her mouth, carefully chewing it then pausing before taking the next one.

Alan stopped coughing long enough to whisper, "I'll be fine," before going back coughing again. Finally after a few more coughs, he stopped and wiped his brow. "Whew, that went down the wrong way." Alan cleared his throat and took a smaller sip of whiskey. This time he managed to swallow and get it all down instead of inhaling it. He smiled to himself.

Alan placed the whiskey bottle on the ground in front of Julie. He reached into the bag of chips and took a few chips. He started to feed himself one after another. The whiskey was giving him a bit of an appetite. "We were pretty lucky to have found this place." Julie nodded. "I was talking to a couple of guys down at the soup kitchen the other day and they told me of a guy who got mugged last week in Canterbury Park. He was new in town and didn't know that place can be dangerous. Apparently a couple of punk kids stoned on gawd only knows what found him sleeping at four in the morning and decided to roll him, not that the guy had very much to begin with. Ha! Roll a guy who's sleeping in the park. Now, that's rich. The punks won't roll a guy who actually is rich and has something worth stealing; no they go after somebody who has nothing." Alan stopped talking to eat a few more chips one after another.

Julie said, "It can be dangerous in the streets." She reached down and picked up the whiskey bottle. "I wish there was something else I can do but at the moment, I'm broke. No, I am worse than broke." She took a swig out of the bottle. "Fortunately, nobody can find me to make me pay what I don't have or maybe put me in jail."

Alan had stopped eating and was looking over Julie's shoulder. She suddenly realised that Alan wasn't talking or eating but was staring at something, but not at her. She said, "What?" then turned to look behind her. "What are you looking at?" She scanned the end of the alley where the loading dock was. Nothing. She turned back to face Alan.

Alan continued looking past her then said slowly, "There's somebody back there."

Surprised, Julie turned again while saying, "What? Where?" This time she spotted the man. He was off to one side of the loading dock on the opposite side where the light was in the semi-darkness. He was sitting on the ground, his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. His head was tilted down, his chin resting on his chest like he was sleeping.

"Hey," Alan half yelled. There was no answer. "Hey!" Alan tried again a little louder. Still the man didn't move.

Alan stood up and walked the twenty feet separating them. Julie had put down the bottle of whiskey but not before putting the top back on the bottle. Having accidentally kicked over a few bottles in her time, she knew from experience it was better to put the top back on than to see your drink go to waste. She stood up and followed Alana over the man.

Julie and Alan stood at the feet of the man. "Hey buddy," said Alan. No response. Alan gingerly pushed at the sole of a shoe with the tip of his foot. Nothing. He lightly kicked the bottom of the shoe. The leg moved slightly each time Alan kicked the foot but the man never moved. "Hello there. Earth to stranger."

Alan took two paces to the head of the guy. He reached out, put his hand on the top of the guy's head then shook it a bit. "Hey fella. You all right?" The head moved back and forth but the man didn't move. Alan tried again only a little harder. "Hey!"

This time Alan got a response. The shaking had thrown the body off balance and it slowly tipped over ending up with the body lying sideways on the pavement. Julie stepped back surprised. "Jesus, is he dead?"

"Beats me," said Alan. "Go get the flashlight. I can't see anything in this darkness." Julie stood stock-still for a moment then turned back to the shopping cart. Alan stepped over the legs and crouched down by the body. He looked at the man's face now slightly cockeyed due to the position of the body. The eyes were shut and you'd have the impression the guy was asleep. Alan reached out put the back of his fingers against the man's cheek. It felt cool. Not cold, but cool. Of course, it was summer so it wasn't like a body would get really cold in this weather.

Julie came back with the flashlight. She was shining on the man's face. "Hey, I know him," said Julie.

"You do?" said Alan. "Who is he?"

"It's Freddy. He's a guy I've talked to a few times in front of the Mission over on Paisley Street. I think he stayed there from time to time." Alan looked him wondering what to do next. "Does he have a pulse?" asked Julie.

"How should I know?" Alan put his hand on the side of the man's neck. He had seen people do this in cop shows although he wasn't too sure of what he was supposed to feel by doing so.

"Do you feel anything?" said Julie.

"No," replied Alan. "Give me the flashlight." Julie handed him the device and he held the glass end of it up under the man's nose. He had seen people do this in cop shows where they used a mirror to detect if the person was breathing or not. Alan waited a moment then looked at the end of the flashlight. Nothing. There were no marks on the glass which would mean, he guessed, that Freddy here was no longer breathing. "I'm not sure but I think he's dead."

"Do you suspect foul play?" Julie chuckled thinking that she sounded like one of those detectives on television. Alan smiled still staring at Freddy. Now what to do?

"I think we had better get out of here," said Alan.

"Why?"

"If the police find us here, they are going to ask us a lot of questions and we'll probably end up down at the station. They may even make us stay overnight," said Alan. "I'm not sure I want to spend the night there."

Julie looked thoughtful. Alan had a point. There was no point in looking for trouble. There was always plenty of trouble that found her so why do anything to ask for more. "All right, but first let's check him for anything of value."

Alan stood up and turned to Julie with a shocked expression. "What?"

Julie looked at him like he was stupid. "He's dead. Do you think he's going to miss anything?"

"What about the cops?"

"Oh yeah, like they're going to know what Freddy had in his pockets. We might as well take any money he has. He certainly is going to need it any longer," said Julie.

Alan looked at her while he figured out if there was anything wrong with this idea. Hmmm, the idea of fingerprints came to mind but just how could he leave any fingerprints the cops could find that would lead them to him? "Okay," Alan said. He got down and started going through Freddy's pockets one by one. Alan reached around the body and felt a back pocket in the pants. There was something there so he fiddled around until he got it out. It was a wallet. He held it up to Julie and said, "Here. Look in this and see what's there."

Julie took the wallet as Alan continued searching through the pockets. "Don't forget inside the jacket. There are probably one maybe two pockets, one on each side." Alan hadn't thought of that.

Julie opened the wallet and looked where the bills were kept. She pulled out several bills and held them up to the light. "Good lord, Alan."

"What?" he said as he put his hand into the inside left pocket of the jacket.

"There's two hundred and forty dollars here in bills."

"Really?" Alan grabbed a hold of the labels of the jacket and pulled Freddy back into an upright position then pushed him over on the other side so he could get at all the pockets in the opposite side. So far he had found four bucks in change and a discount coupon for McDonalds.

Julie had put the bills in her own pocket then held the wallet again up to the light to better read the three cards. "Freddy has an expired driver's licence, a health card and the business card of the clinic over on 4th Avenue." Julie looked for any hidden pockets in the wallet but didn't find any. "That's it."

Alan took his hand out of the last pocket. He had a hold of a five dollar bill. "Well, I seem to have four dollars in change and a five dollar bill." Alan stood up holding the money out to Julie.

"We're rich!" Julie exclaimed.

"Hardly," replied Alan. He still smiled. That was a chunk of change to have run across like that. Usually his take while begging on the streets wasn't necessarily all that much so he was ofttimes forced to enjoy the generosity of the various soup kitchens and mission houses in the city.

"Let me put the wallet back." Julie handed it to Alan. He wondered again about fingerprints so he wiped it on his jacket then pulling the sleeve of his jacket over his hand, he held the wallet in the cuff and put it in the pocket of Freddy's jacket. "I think we better leave."

"What about Freddy? Hardly anybody comes here into this alley. No, actually nobody ever comes into this alley. It might be months before anybody finds him."

Alan thought a moment. "Good point. Freddy will start stinking up the place and we can't have that, now can we?"

Alan walked back to their little camp. He picked up the whiskey bottle and put it in the shopping cart. He took the two buckets and hooked them to the side of the cart. Then he gathered up the pieces of cardboard and slide down the side of the cart. "You know Muller Street?"

"Nope," replied Julie.

"I checked it out the other day and discovered another building up for demolition. There's an alley in behind that is similar to this one. There isn't a padlocked gate but it does have an overhang so we'll be protected if it rains." Alan started pushing the cart up the alley.

"Sounds good to me," said Julie.

Alan stopped.

"What?" said Julie.

Alan turned around and looked back at Freddy. "Just a sec."

Alan trotted back to Freddy. Julie watched him sit down in front of Freddy. He seemed to be touching feet with Freddy. Alan leaned forward doing something. She couldn't see. Alan got up then crouched down at Freddy's feet. No, he isn't. Sure enough, Alan yanked something not once but twice. He then trotted back to Julie. "I don't think Freddy's going to be missing his shoes."

"Alan!"

"What?" Alan looked at Julie surprised. "He's dead for crying out loud. What's he need shoes for?" Alan pulled up a corner of the plastic sheet and stuffed the shoes into the cart. Alan then removed the padlock and swung the gate open. He moved into the narrow street then turned to go to the main thoroughfare. "Don't shut the gate."

"Okay," said Julie. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to alert the police."

"What? How?" Julie looked at Alan quizzically.

"We're going to walk right by the Donut Diner. There is always a cop car stopped there for coffee. I'm going to leave a note in his window."

Alan pushed the cart up the narrow street. Two hundred and forty dollars. There was a small grocery store just two doors from the Donut Diner and they also sold liquor. Somehow Freddy's misfortune had turned into Freddy's fortune. Maybe not for Freddy, but shouldn't they raise a toast in honour of their fallen comrade? For some reason Alan had a hankering for wine and pretzels.

2011-09-20

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