Lisa Nowatzki

A homeless man is ruining my life, Cody thought as he sat down. Though it is April, Spring is a fond wish in most New Yorker's minds. Shivering from a wayward chill running down his spine, he looks outside. He sips his Café Americano from his toasty window seat in Mike’s Coffee Shoppe while Earnest’s breath condenses into tiny puffs of white fog with every exhale. Disgusting and monotonous are the only words I can think to describe his[LN1] situation. And he is my father, he thinks as he wipes his hand on his napkin, cleaning away the remnants of spilled coffee, and cleaning his life free of a perpetual thorn in his side. That’s it. I’m through with him. I can’t waste my life worrying and caring for him.[LN2] It is the same old thing every morning. Up and out the door an hour earlier than necessary so no one from his job at Social Services will see him with his father. Quickly walk the two short blocks from his apartment to the café where he orders the same coffee and doughnut to take to his dad. He sits down in the same seat and watches him wake up and tackle life outside in the elements. The homeless population rises with the sun. Cody’[LN3] s father is no exception. He wakes up, sits down outside his one room, cardboard box home and holds his cup out. “Spare change?” he dutifully asks each passerby. Some will drop in a few coins. Occasionally, he catches a flash of green before it is stuffed in the worn and dirty Styrofoam cup with GOD BLESS YOU printed in faded blue ink on the side. The reply to each patron never alters, “Thank you, and God bless you.” Sometimes, his dad gets up from his temporary couch of cardboard pieces and a faded, and threadbare seat-cushion, and rummages through his prized possessions. To the casual viewer, the shopping cart is chaos. But he has carefully organized each little piece. Everything has a place. A system that only he understands, all contained in a Shop-Smart cart. [LN4] Cody finishes his beverage and buys a venti, black coffee and a cruller[LN5] to go. Popping up the collar of his D & G knee-length, wool, winter coat and bracing against the impending freeze, he steps out in the cold, careful not to scuff his new Italian leather slip-ons and crosses the street to take Dad his morning coffee. Each day, his unaffected father greets his son with the same monolog he gives to everyone, “Spare change?” “Here you go, Dad, your usual.” Cody hands him the java and cruller, along with a five-dollar bill. “Let’s go across the street to Mike’s and warm you up with a nice hot breakfast.” “I already ate this morning, but thank you, and God bless you.” Earnest jumps up, mumbles something unintelligible and rummages through his cart. “Why did you let Crazy Larry take my blanket? It was my favorite!” He yells. “Dad! Crazy Larry did not take your blanket. There it is behind you," Cody said, pointing to the thick coverlet lying on the sidewalk, just inside the dirty, makeshift opening. A few weeks ago, another homeless guy stole his father’s winter cover. I had to fork out more money from my already depleted bank account to buy him another winter blanket that he doesn’t appreciate. “Sorry Mister, sometimes I see and hear things that are not real. I don’t always remember things so good either. Thanks again for the cup of joe.” Disgusting! “Dad, you know who I am. Why do you always do things the hard way and embarrass me? Why can’t you come live with me and get off the street?” “Because you never can leave well enough alone, and because of that tone in your voice!” Earnest says between his clenched teeth. “You always were a whiner. Plus, you try to interfere and rescue everything including me, just to make yourself look good. Then you whine and complain about the mess I make and the burden I place on you. So, no thank you!” “Fine, Have it your way. I’m done with you [LN6] Cody spits out. He is safe, warm, and has money for food, all he needs. Good enough for him. I better leave before somebody from work catches me with here with him, Cody thinks as he leaves his father. [LN7] He steps off the curb, mumbling to himself about ungrateful parents and unappreciated sacrifices adult children make. He crosses the street to the Metro stairs entrance. Back in the alleyway, he hears a high-pitched yelp. Squinting into the alcove, he can just make out the silhouette of a small dog. I think it is tangled up in its leash. “He hasn’t ate, yet. I wouldn’t go back there, Mister. Leave well enough alone.” Earnest yells while digging through his stash. “It looks like a puppy, Dad. Is someone else back there?” “You might say that. “Puppies are not dangerous; he needs help.” “You ever heard of the angler fish?” “What are you talking about, Dad? Are you seeing things again? You should eat some solid food.” “I told Larry not to bother that thing. He didn’t listen, either.” Earnest sits down and rattles his cup as another passerby drops some change into it. “Thank you, and God Bless you.” Walking to the back of the alley, Cody nearly gags on the musty, foul scent rising above the usual urine and feces odor. He makes it to a nearby trash can and takes the lid off and gags and vomits as the last remnants of his Café Americano disappear down into the recesses of the garbage bin. He wipes the bitter remnants of bile off his mouth with the back of his hand, temporarily forgetting about the tangled mutt. The pup whimpers again when Cody sets the garbage lid down. He walks over to examine the animal. The closer he walks, the more it jumps around and makes little puppy whimpers. His happy little tail wags and thumps the ground at the speed of light. “Awe, hey little guy. Excuse me, sir. Is this your dog?” he asks the mound underneath a weathered, brown, rain slicker. Moving closer, he shakes the coat sleeve, “Mister, does this little tyke belong to you? He is so cute. I will pay you for him. I will give him a good home. He will sleep in a warm bed and never go hungry. I can take better care of him than you can living on the street.” The swell under the coat grunts and shuffles around toward Cody. He takes out twenty dollars and lays it beside the coat. “Is that enough?” More shuffling and another grunt came from under the jacket. “I hope you said ‘yes’ because I’m taking this little guy home with me. Thank you.” Cody reaches down and picks up the tiny black and white ball of fluff. The noxious smell emanating from the animal causes him to dry heave and almost drop it. “Don’t worry. I will take good care of this cute little guy,” he says as the inside of the brown slicker starts to churn, and the owner of the coat comes to life. Rain-soaked arms stretch out and reach for him. Something’s not right. I’m not going to upset this guy. He may be mentally ill like Dad. He might try to hurt me, Cody thinks. “Here, you can take him back and keep the twenty dollars,” he tells the yet-to-be-seen person and tries to give the whimpering pooch back to its owner. The little animal panics; it thrashes and whimpers making the owner more agitated. The dog’s fur glistens with tenacious and sticky mucus, like a ball of glue in his hands. [LN8] “What the heck?” Cody exclaims, trying unsuccessfully to let the pup go back to its master. He attempts to set the canine on the garbage can lid, on the ground, and he even uses a barb from the nearby wrought iron fence trying to scrape the thing from his hands with no success. He cannot let go. Its fur sticks like super glue. Wherever the beast touches him, it attaches itself to him. Busy trying to scrape off the machinating fuzzball from his hands, he senses the owner of the old slicker stand up. Looking over; wanting some help, he asks “What is wrong with this dog? Can you please take him?” A jagged seam forms along the button line of the old coat. A great, crenulated maw opens up, sucking in air and debris from all around. Jagged, triangular red and yellow-stained teeth the size of a shot glasses, pop up and out, one by one, accenting the spiral death trap. Food! Tasty food and so easy to catch. Nothing is this easy to catch on my planet. Billions of juicy prey breezing by, unafraid. I have found my new home; the creature thinks as the man gets tangled even more. At the end of each sleeve, cold and round compound eyes snap open and blink back. The leash-looking cord attached to the lure [LN9] comes to life. It inches and pulls the victim closer and closer to the deadly orifice. After I consume this little plump morsel, I’m calling my brother’s and sister’s – all ten million of them. We can feast on this planet for a millennium without any drop in the population![LN10] Cody yells and struggles to remove the sticky appendage pulling him into his death. “Help! Someone Hel…” Earnest doesn’t go help. He turns away from the grizzly scene, knowing what comes next. I told him it hadn’t ate breakfast yet.