NervousMan Tries to Decide Which Way to Go

Things seem to be included in his memory. Like days of sunshine and deep green grass and trees, somewhere far off and away.

"Somewhere," NervousMan thought as he walked away from the park. "Sometime," he thought dreamily.

Like maybe a few minutes ago, he thought.

"Where? Where?" someone said next to him and NervousMan glanced at them. They were talking on a cellphone.

NervousMan walked away from the park, secretly wondering if he shouldn't have stayed a bit longer. The Immortal Reality book was tucked under his arm and he felt its presence there against his side, like a companion.

NervousMan munched chips from the bag in his hands, his eyes focused on some distant place a thousand miles away, somewhere up in the distance, where the sidewalk turns into the street. He was vaguely aware of perhaps not looking so great, someone dressed a bit shabbily walking down a city street, munching on a bag of chips, staring off into space.

NervousMan saw that he happened to be walking past the 59 Club restaurant again. He looked through the plate glass window of the place and saw the mean waiter serving a couple of people at the counter. All three were looking at the menu and the mean waiter was explaining something to them.

The mean waiter glanced up briefly, as if sensing NervousMan staring at him. Ever so imperceptibly, the mean waiter's eyebrows raised, and his head tilted very slightly, as if looking down and up the length of NervousMan. The look lasted only a moment and then the mean waiter turned back to the couple he was talking to.

The word 'critical' flashed through NervousMan's mind. And he frowned.

NervousMan felt strange. NervousMan remembered that he had to cash the check he got from them as a prize. Perhaps tomorrow, NervousMan thought. The thought of going into the bank today made NervousMan nervous. Especially today with so much going on.

NervousMan walked on. After a minute, he saw a man who was sitting on the ground. It was the man he had seen before sitting asleep in the sun in front of the cafe. The man who didn't have anywhere else to sleep.

As NervousMan approached, the man looked up and said to him "Sir, this is really embarassing, but do you have any change you could spare? I'm real hungry," said the man.

NervousMan looked at the man's face looking up at him. His face was half covered by a bushy white beard and his eyes seemed old and sad.

"I don't--," NervousMan began. "Uh... here you can have these chips. I've had enough". NervousMan smiled slightly.

The man's face brightened as if the sun above had come out from behind a cloud and illuminated it.

"Ooooh, God bless you sir, God bless you," the man on the ground said as NervousMan handed him the chips.

NervousMan walked on.

Maybe, thought NervousMan, he could do more. Maybe he could help out people like the man who had nowhere to sleep. Or help carry boxes on Saturdays. What did that woman Jenny say? Between 3 and 4pm. Maybe, thought NervousMan. But I don't want to get nervous.

NervousMan wasn't used to dealing with people. NervousMan was used to being alone. Living in the building that his Chinese stepfather owned was his own private space. Other people made NervousMan nervous.

NervousMan stopped on the sidewalk to think for a moment. Should he go back home, or should he go to the bank? Or back to the park?

NervousMan started to walk to toward the bank, and then stopped and thought, no, perhaps I should go home and take it easy, enough for one day. He reversed his steps and started walking back the way he had came.

He stopped. And then thought he might look peculiar to other people walking back and forth aimlessly on a city street. Maybe it looked like there was something wrong with NervousMan if he did something like that. NervousMan didn't know.

NervousMan glanced around at the people around him. Some of them glanced back, perhaps wondering what NervousMan was looking at, but most were either talking to other people, or listening to their headphones, or talking to someone they already knew on their cellphones.

Some of the other people laughed, even though NervousMan couldn't see where the laughter came from, and NervousMan winced at the laughter, caught by the notion that it was somehow directed at him.

"I will walk home," thought NervousMan finally. "I will go home. That is best".

And that is what NervousMan did.