I am not proud of how my next meeting with the crazy man went. Double the reason to share the experience with you. I was angry. Not angry all at once. It was an anger that built up gradually, hidden from my notice, then it jumped in leaps until I was a walking pressure cap ready to burst. I can’t even say what it was that triggered me into my rampage. A traffic ticket, stress at work, money, relationship issues, the list reads along those lines. Upsetting things to deal with but no excuse to be the jerk I had become. I had a lousy day, followed by an even lousier night. Slept very poorly and skipped work in the morning. Used a sick day though everyone knew I wasn’t sick. I sulked at home all morning until I had managed to build myself up to a frothing madman. I kept going over the same ground again and again even though I knew it was doing myself no favors. I set out to find the crazy man thinking he would some how make things better. In retrospect, I know I shouldn’t search outside of me to find out what’s wrong inside. Too bad my skull is too thick to have thought of that at that time.

I marched around the town looking for him, the crazy man. I must have been some sight because people kept giving me a wide berth. I stormed through all the usual places and caught sight of him in the park. He was sitting in the square and there were a bunch of birds around him; Pigeons I think. I made a direct line to intercept him, all the while repeating to myself that he has to make this better. He was alerted to my approach when the birds all jumped in the air and started their flapping and cooing, trying to get away before the mad man got too close. Maybe they thought I might eat them. I probably looked like I would have. He turned and faced my approach, just blankly looking at me. That is when a meanness caught hold of me. All my anger directed towards him in one vicious snap. It is hard not to feel shame even now while I tell you this. I was about ten feet from him when I blurted out, “What the hell is it with you anyway!? You walk around here doing not a God damn thing but take hand-outs and speak words that amount to nothing! All your babble sounds so nice and holier then thou but none of it means a damned thing when it comes to the real world! You don’t even know what the real world is anymore! If you even ever knew at all!!” By that time I was right in his face, screaming at him and making a spectacle for all to see and hear in the park. He simply stood there, not saying a word and looking at me. His face betrayed nothing but a sadness. In my anger I thought that look meant I was hitting home and was making him feel bad; Bad like me. Seeing that made a small voice in me speak up. It said I was going too far and this man didn’t deserve this all out attack from anyone let alone from me. I ignored it in the feeding frenzy. “Well Jack, or whoever the hell you are, I am here to call your bluff! You are nothing more then a worthless beggar I can’t believe I was so stupid to have ever given you even a second of my time!” When the momentum begins, it is hard to stop it. My heart sits heavy in my chest while I recount this to you. It may be one of the lowest fights I have ever tried to pick. I shudder to think of what else I might have blurted out in my rage if a police officer hadn’t come to the crazy mans rescue. Hah, who looked like the crazy man at that point I wonder. The officer stepped in, pushing me away from Jack and authoritatively asking me what my issue was with this man and why was I screaming at the street person? I looked at police officer and said, “Go find some criminal doing a crime, like not stopping completely at a stop sign or something! You are not needed here!” That did nothing to make the situation better. A situation that I had made and kept making. To the credit of the police officer, he did not react emotionally. Instead, he wedged himself between me and Jack and asked Jack if I was troubling him and did he want me taken away. I waited for Jack to tell the police officer there was no problem and that he knew me and it was okay. Instead, he said nothing to the police officer. That enraged me further. After a few seconds of nothing from the crazy man, I lost my head completely. I yelled out, “Tell him who I am Jack! Tell him!” Still nothing but that sad face. Maybe he was about to say something, I will never know, I didn’t give him much of a chance. I reached around the police officer and pushed Jack. I pushed him hard and he fell down. Ah man that makes my heart bleed to think of it....He fell down! The officer turned and pushed me back, hard. I didn’t fall though. With baton drawn, the police officer ordered me to leave the park immediately and told me if he saw me harassing this man again, he would throw me in a jail cell for a few nights and fine me for disturbing the peace. Starring at the fallen crazy man, red faced and still angry on the outside, but already recoiling from myself on the inside, I turned and stomped away...quickly. What a complete ass I had made myself into.

In my retreat, I headed for the beach. It was mostly barren of people and, after stopping to buy a bottle of whiskey from the store, I set out for that big rock near the shore. I felt I might find some peace in a bottle and solitude. I can’t even say how many times I have seen it in the movies, a plain brown paper bag sheathing a bottle of some sort of alcohol being consumed by a man who is being consumed by something else. I thought, why not give it a try? I only had two unpleasant swigs before I tripped getting on that rock and fell forward, breaking the bottle in the bag on the stone as I caught myself. The smell of whiskey perfumed the air and I dropped another notch on the misery pole. There I sat, head in my hands, starring at the horizon. The breeze that is always present wafted most of the smell of the booze away from me but still enough odor remained to remind me how low I had fallen. I sat there a long time.

It was early evening and I was still sitting motionless on that rock. I gradually became aware I wasn’t alone. I don’t know how long he was standing there but Jack was there by my side. He was holding half a sandwich in cellophane. It was baloney and cheese-wiz. I turned my eyes towards him, moving my head very little. That was the que he must have been waiting for. He reached out and placed the sandwich by my side. My anger had reduced to a hollow burnt out feeling. I mumbled, “Why didn’t you say something Jack?” After a brief pause, he softly replied, “I can smell a fire burning through a closed door...” He tapped his nose with a forefinger, “...I can see the door was locked, from the outside. Whatever was feeding the fire couldn’t open the door from the inside and it was too hot to touch the handle.” His arm dropped to his side again and he waited. I merely looked at him. “Jack,” I said, “I am sorry. I behaved like the fool and I understand if you don’t want to be around me.. or talk with me anymore. I... hope I... didn’t hurt you.” At that point I looked away to the water for fear I might do something silly like show a tear. He tilted his head in that familiar way and said, “The angry suit is ill-fitting. Never worn well. Everyone has a jack-in-the-box. All wound up and ready to explode out. Suppose to be a fun toy for a child and is. Not so fun for the child inside the adult in the years long after.” He reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder. “The stone is better off bathed in the blues-drink then in you. There is no happy boat in that stream.” He looked up into the sky, I looked to him, then to the sky where he looked. “Even the rain gets confused and drops ice instead of water. No reason to beat the dog for that, is there?” I was dumbfounded. I wasn’t sure I was hearing what I thought I was hearing. Was he telling me it was okay? That it was okay that I screamed at him infront of people, that I said those mean and horrible things, that I pushed him to the ground? I asked, “Are you serious? Are you telling me its okay that I acted like such a jerk today? Friends don’t do that to friends. How can that be okay Jack? ...How?” He smiled and the sadness finally left his face. “Your bridge is still strong. Firmly rooted on both ends. No point in you stomping about on it now for how it comes across before. You might as well sit and let the magic of cheese-wiz and baloney work its crafts on you. A new sun shines on a new piece of garden tomorrow. Lets see what it grows eh?” He let go of my shoulder and turned, walking away from me. I watched him go, speechless and still trying to process his ability to rise above the things that would send most people into bitterness. In the past, he would turn back and give one last piece of wisdom before walking too far. This time he didn’t. That somehow made me feel sad. The whole day made me feel sad. I was thinking, he may be able to forgive my actions, but how am I going to forgive my actions. I would never let myself live this down. That sad face Jack wore at the park, the one that lifted when he smiled to me just now, that wasn’t sadness from what I said or did to him. It was sadness for what he felt I was going through. I dropped my head back into my hands and felt horrible. That’s when I barely heard his voice carried on the wind. He said, “Stop beating on your bridge, let it be. Being is what you are and there ain’t nothing wrong with that. You are still okay.” I looked up to where he had left me and, sure enough, from all the way on the other side of the beach the crazy man was hollering to be heard and was standing there with both hands held high and both thumbs up. I couldn’t quite see his face but I am sure he was smiling again. A warmth flooded my chest a chill ran down my back. I smiled back and waved a big wave in return. I thought, that man is as assiduous as he is saintly. He has become my ruler by which I can not help but measure myself against. If he can rise above my anger and forgive me, after the behavior I showed today, then I must try to do the same for others if I should find myself in the same boat.

My stomach growled and I remembered the half sandwich he brought me. Another gesture that rocks me. I have no idea how much food he gets from day to day, but he saved me half his sandwich. That holds more value then any gourmet meal might offer. I think tomorrow I will bring him a platter with steak and baked potatoes. Today, I am going to enjoy my cheese-wiz and baloney sandwich. At this point, no food anywhere in the world would taste better.

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