The Night I Met Him

Erin Rhodes

I saw winter in his eyes. That was the best way to describe him, like he’d never seen a summer in his life. I had come to this intersection to give him leftover Chinese food. I thought it would be better than money.

“No, I can’t take this. You...you eat this.” He didn’t look at me when he spoke. He looked over and around me as if he was waiting for someone.

“I can’t. I’m full. I had it wrapped. I’m not going to eat it anyway.” I pushed the warm container against his flannel coat, which felt as stiff as cardboard.

“Yes, you will. You’ll want it tomorrow for lunch. Just take it.” His hands pushed the food away, and his eyes met mine, seemingly asking me to stay.

I didn’t want to stay. And because of this, I did something that I regret. It seemed harmless at first, even logical. But deep down, I still knew I was being the kind of person I was trying to avoid.

“Well then, here. Take this money.” I took a ten out of my wallet, held it in the open air, and waited. It had started to snow. I wondered why he wasn’t at a shelter. It was becoming clear to me that he was desperate. He got off on these fierce Pittsburgh nights.

“Why do you want me to take this? So you’ll feel better? Did you do something bad tonight, little girl? Feelin’ guilty about somethin’?”

I wanted him to be typical. Take the money, I thought. Just don’t give me a lecture. The bill was getting wet. I shoved it into my coat pocket. I should have shoved the money into his pocket. Then I should have run as fast I could.

“Come here. Let me show you something.”

He grabbed me by my arm. I couldn’t escape, not even if I had wanted to. He pulled me through the starkness of this night, in a city in which I’d lived my entire life, but truly knew nothing about. The snow was coming down thicker and faster now. It was beautiful, shining. As he pulled me towards our destination, the only thing I noticed was the snow glistening against his long, dark eyelashes.

“We’re going to a place where babies are born and lives are lost, and I ain’t talkin’ about no hospital.”

He was about forty-three, I guessed. Too young to be my father, too old to be my lover. He was a part of a generation I had no connection with. I imagined him in a most unlikely venue: dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, walking barefoot along a beach like the men in L.L. Bean ads.

“Where are you from anyway? It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t you be at a bar or nestled somewhere with your boyfriend?”

I opened my mouth. No words came out, only the warm, smoky tendrils of my breath. I didn’t want to tell him anything personal. I felt as if he could see through me anyway. He didn’t care that I didn’t answer. His rough hands kept pulling me. I knew where we were going. I had seen on the news where they lived. It’s that place we all hear about, but have never really seen. Under the bridge. The only thing I knew about it was what the Red Hot Chili Peppers had sung to me.

Suddenly, the only world I had known was above me. And what was all around me was impenetrable silence. I was deaf to everything: a man pissing upon the bridge’s foundation; A man, woman, and dog huddled togetherãI couldn’t tell where the man ended and the woman began. People moving in slow motion. Bags, blankets, fire, moving in rhythm with the wind.

“Please don’t hurt me.” The only thing I could hear was my heartbeat, throbbing throughout my body.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Just sit with me for a while. You have nowhere else to go, I can tell.” He was leaning against the pillar of the bridge, one leg bent. All he needed was a bottle of beer to perfect this portrait. He was like one of those movie actors you wish you could hate, but you only adoreãMarlon Brando or Robert DeNiro, that type of guy.

“No, I really have to be home. There are people waiting for me there, my family. I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t offend me. It’s not like you’re the first person to try to give me stuff. You know, you’re not as special as you think you are.”

“I know. I know I’m not.”

“Well, then, what were you thinking...when you tried to give me that food, which stinks to high heaven, by the way?”

“I don’t know. I just had the food on me, and I thought you would want it.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t’ know.”

“Have you seen me before?”

“Yes.” I had seen him. On my way to work, I would stop at his intersection, at the traffic light that seemed to last forever. We had made eye contact before. My car stopped right next to him, and instead of looking straight ahead, avoiding his gaze, I turned to look at him. Nothing between us except the glass of my Cavalier’s window. He didn’t ask; I didn’t give. Maybe if I had some food on me, I would have given it to him. But money, no. If he were going to use it on booze, drugs, it wouldn’t be worth it. Why take the chance, I thought. The light turned green, and I drove.

“Am I your pet project?” I couldn’t tell whether he was playing with me or not. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. Apparently not my money or my food, and I think that is what scared me the most.

“No. I just wanted to help you. I mean, you were standing up there with your cup and everything, and...”

“But you sought me out. Busy street like that, people don’t just come walking up to you, to me, I mean.”

“I don’t know what you want, but please just leave me alone.” I was crying now, my face hot with steamy tears.

“Leave her alone, Pete!” The voice of the pissing man. I could barely see him save for the light of his cigarette. I sighed. I was going to be all right.

Pete. Peter. I had never known anyone by that name.

“Fuck you, man. We’re just having a conversation here.”

“It’s cold. She’s got somewhere to be. Let her go.”

Let her go, I thought. As if he had the power to do so.

I could have left at that point. I wouldn’t even need to run. No one seemed to care whether I stayed or went. I wiped my face clean, moistening my gloves. There were moans. I could hear them now. No one was truly asleep, except perhaps the dog. Why weren’t the couple with the dog in a shelter, I wondered. The dog. It had to have been the dog. To me, it seemed like cruelty — to keep the dog, to not give it away to someone who could take care of it. Without the dog, this couple would be able to take care of themselves. Sleep within four walls, underneath a clean blanket, on a bed.

“Sir.” I approached the man with the cigarette. “Would you like some food? It’s Chinese, still slightly warm.”

“Sure. Bring it on over here, hon. I ain’t so proud as this one here,” he said tilting his head towards Pete.

“Oh, shut up. I only had Chinese food like three times in my whole life. I wouldn’t want it anyway.”

There was nothing about him that I understood. How could a man with no home act like he was too good for Chinese food?

“Sorry I have no fork,” I said as I handed the box to the man.

“Ah, no worries. It’ll still taste the same.”

“You’re not hungry, is that it?” I asked Pete, backing away slightly, in case he snapped.

“Not for that, I’m not.” He closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the bridge. Those eyes, those cold, dark pools of nothing. If those were the windows to his soul, then his soul was dead. “Bill, what time is it?”

“How the hell do I know,”he said, shoveling the food into his mouth, actually taking care not to spill. He would take turns between eating and smoking, inhaling every puff as if it were his last. His body never stopped moving.

I moved closer to Bill, this older black man with sprinkles of white in his hair. I just wanted to grab him, warm him as best as I could. He had a family somewhere, I knew.

“Sir, do you need anything? It’s really cold. Let me take you somewhere where you can warm up.”

“Nah, I’m alright, precious. I’d rather be here than there anytime.”

Pete perked his head up. “You think she’s talkin’ about a shelter? I think she’s invitin’ you home.”

“You was talkin’ about a shelter, right?”

I laughed nervously. “Yes. Oh yes.”

“Is someone gonna tell me what fucking time it is?” Pete pushed himself off of the foundation and started pacing.

I fumbled with my jacket and gloves. I couldn’t get to my watch quick enough. Pete looked like he was going to pounce, every motion as abrupt as a cat’s. I couldn’t keep track of him.

“11:15. It’s 11:15.”

“Damn it!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s waitin’ on his drugs.”

“Shut the fuck up, Bill!”

“Oh.” My stomach dropped. “I’m gonna go. I’mä I’m sorry. I have to go.” As I started to leave, muffled voices descended down the hill.

“That’s them. Don’t go anywhere.” Pete stopped cold and stood still like a soldier feeling for the enemy.

“What? Who?” I whispered as I started to tear up.

He pushed into me like a bulldozer. “Here. Get behind this bush. Stay there. Don’t move. Don’t make a noise. Stay there.”

I didn’t know what to believe, who to trust. I glanced over at Bill who was still smoking and rocking, smoking and rocking. I thought of home. My warm bed. My parents and my friends, who would wonder what possessed me to come here and then die here. Stupid girl.

But Pete was urgent. He looked straight into my eyes, and for the first time that evening, his eyes were alive, on fire.

“I’m scared.”

“Just stay there. Don’t move from where you are.”

I wanted to ask him what he thought was going to happen. But they had arrived. I could see them through the branches of the bush. Two young men, one black, one white, twenty-five or so, my age. They wore hoods. I could barely see their faces. They were laughing, smiling. I turned my head to look at Bill. He was gone.

“Yo, man! What’s goin’ on?” The young black man walked straight up to Pete’s face.

“Not much. Just freezin’ my ass off here.”

“Your choice, man.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know why we’re here.”

I was shivering and so afraid they would hear me. The black one did the talking while the white one kept looking around. Please don’t see me.

“Yeah, manä I don’t have all the money yet, but my sister is gonna lend it to me. I talked to her today, and she’s gonna give it to me. But it’s a lotta money, so she couldn’t get it all at once.”

“What the fuck, man. You’ve been owin’ us for months now. I can’t keep doin’ this.”

“I know, but I’m promising it to you.”

“You’re saying your sister couldn’t come up with three-hundred dollars?”

“Yeahä But she’ll have it...any day, man, she’ll have it.” Pete was shaking, his hands in his pocket. He was biting his lip. “If you come back in a half an hour or somethin’ like that, I could give you some of it.”

“This is bull-shit, man. I’m sicka comin’ down here. I don’t care if you have to fuckin’ give blow-jobs in the McDonald’s bathroom, I want the fuckin’ money!”

“I said my sister’s gonna give it to me!”

“Man, you think I’m stupid? I don’t even believe you have a sister. And if you did, she sure wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about no heroin-sniffing whore like you.”

“Fuck you!” Pete jumped on the man, punching him all over. The couple’s dog started barking and joined the commotion.

I wanted Pete to kill the guy, to punch him as hard and as fiercely as this night was cold. I willed all of my life’s anger to enter Pete’s veins.

“Adam, help me out here!” The Black man beckoned his partner for help. They were all on top of each other now, a mass of punching and kicking extremities. Then the two pinned Pete to the ground. His chest was heaving up and down. The black man held Pete’s arms back while the white one straddled his slight frame. Everything appeared blurry through my tear-filled eyes.

“You mother-fucker. You ain’t worth it anymore...cut him.”

Suddenly, the white one pulled a small knife from the back pocket of his jeans. It was the only thing I could see through my hazy, kaleidoscope vision: this shining object, catching the snow as it fell. And then, it, too, fell — into Pete’s body. I lowered my head, closed my eyes, and held my breath.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

I could hear their four feet running up the hill as the dog continued barking. I peeked through the branches. Pete’s chest was no longer heaving. The dog pawed at his hands and licked his face and whimpered. I remained crouched behind the bush. I stayed there a long time.