the stalker

Sitting in my car in the cold isn't my idea of fun but I had an assignment to do. I was on a hunt for personal flaws, not mine, his. I wrapped my hand around my Starbucks coffee and nibbled on my favorite breakfast snack, a cinnamon scone. There he is, my subject. He stood on the top steps, plain and harmless looking, and studied his surroundings. Reading his face I thought he appeared weighed down with emotion. He took the steps one at a time successfully making it to his auto without busting any bones on the icy pavement. How did he do that with perfect balance? I couldn't swear his feet even touched the surface. He didn't bother to lock the door to his house, what a fool.

Great, no one has been on the road since the snow fell overnight. Trailing him without being noticed will be difficult. I managed to trace his tire tracks since he wasn't skidding. Not being one to ever look back, he never saw me in his rearview mirror, he just forged onward.
Pulling over and parking he trekked down the city sidewalk. His first stop was at the newsstand. He didn't purchase any thing but he whispered in the blind man's ear who owned the stand, then he placed a small card an piece of paper on the counter. Purchasing a periodical I glanced at the card, an ophthalmologist’s number, with a blank check!

Subjects next stop was at the soup kitchen. A volunteer outside was guarding a clear, empty acrylic safety box available for donations. He slipped a bill through the slot. A few passersby gawked at the denomination; then, whispering among themselves emptied their pockets of change and made a contribution. The soup kitchen official yelled profuse gratide after the small group of donators. This yielded a domino effect as more approached and the box needed to be replaced every fifteen minutes.

Subject proceeded to saunter casually down the street that was slowly filling with morning commuters. At the abortion clinic he paused and lowered his head. He approached a young woman who was weeping by the entrance, she had to still be in high school. I couldn't hear a word that was said but she responded affirmatively. She painted a brave face on and pulled out her cell phone. Subject stayed as she spoke to some one, holding her free hand, nodding encouragement.

Subject approached the park. Light snow decorated the benches and trees, even making the trash bins look attractive. There was a homeless man awaking from his night binge, his bench was slightly sheltered under a lean-to facing away from the northerner. Subject sat down nest to Homeless and inhaled the fresh clean air, exhaling foggy rings into the sky... I sat nearby, close enough to eavesdrop, and pretended to read the magazine I bought. Good house Keeping. I should have paid more attention to my purchase, this magazine could lead me into good habits.
"Are you here to arrest me?" Homeless asked in a monotone. At this point jail was a comfortable goal for him, offering meals and a blanket.

"Why would I do that?"
"You saw me take your money, I know you did."
"It was your money. It was meant for charity."
Homeless looked contrite. "I shouldn't have taken it till it was offered me, and I used it for booze, someone else would have benefited better with it, can you forgive me."
"I've forgiven you all the other times. But you must come back to see me in the morning. We're having another support group."
"I'll try," Homeless muttered eyes downcast, not believing he was forgiven; again. "But I just keep letting you down."
"It's not me you let down."

Subject traced his way back to his auto. There was an older couple with the young girl at the clinic, they were hugging and crying. Her parent's, I suspect. I heard snatches of conversation, "We'll be here for you....Don't make a mistake....Pregnant with you when we married....." The teenager looked aghast! Funny how each generation assumes they are the first to err. Other unfortunate girls stopped to ponder their decisions as they observed the family meeting, then, looking at the cold brick building they dug their cell phones from their purse bottoms. The mother spotted Subject, gasped and grinned. They recognized each other. Subject didn't wish to intrude right now so he lifted a finger to his lips and nodded. I sent a silent thankful prayer heavenward.
As we passed the soup kitchen I saw a delivery truck unloading can goods they just purchased with their recent income. The volunteers were being asked to stay longer to help stock the shelves, which they did whole heartedly. Diners filed out the front door patting satisfied tummies. I dropped a few bills into the acrylic box.

And the newsstand had a closed sign hanging, that promised to reopen after the owners cataract surgery next week. Customers were invited to help themselves to free newspapers till his return, which they did, dropping tips into a nearby coffee can. Free newspapers and I had to buy a copy of Good House Keeping! Again, I dropped some money on top of the change in the coffee can.

Subject's street was still pristine, with only the tell tale signs of our wheels. He climbed the steps quicker, with a lighter heart and walked down the hallway to the back of the main room as I watched from the picture window. He scrutinized the large living area, it could hold more visitors than came. It was his vision to see it with standing room only some day. He checked the cabinets and laid out tomorrow's dishes and soul food; bread and wine. He had open house regularly for various support groups that combined their cause at several weekly meetings. The groups gave birth to more helpers so He wouldn't have to work alone. Hating solitude, he lived for company. He proceeded to the farthest wall and leaned back. Spreading his arms wide he faded into the cross that adorned the stage, his eyes resting on me! Where did he go?

I had been tailing Subject for some time now, trying to determine if he was the genuine article. I think I'll visit him tomorrow morning. He will certainly be surprised to see me, or will he? I went home for my Saturday night cleansing and set the alarm for 9:00 Sunday morning. I absolutely needed the assistance of his generic support group, it was designed for sinners only, of which I'm club captain.

Bright and early the next day I crossed the threshold of Subject's home with a old man scheduled for cataract surgery, a family of three, soon to be four, several patrons of the soup kitchen and a sober drunk. We had to hunt for vacant chairs, Subject just hung around up front, his arms out stretched, happiness pouring out of his heart.

Math 18:22
Eph 5:1-7
Heb 10:24-25
1 Pet 3:13 The Stalker