The other
man was wearing his best clothes that day. His only pair of jeans
that didn’t have a hole in them and a faded dark blue collared
shirt with the top button missing. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows,
exposing the sun baked skin beneath and hands stained by dirt; hands
that have been worked far too hard for far too long. As he stepped
out of the diner and down the steps he found himself staring at a man
with a desperate look on his face making his way towards him.
The desperate man came to a stop a few feet before him, unsure of
what to say until the other man spoke up first.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
The desperate man was taken aback by the sincerity in the other
man’s voice.
“Y-yeah. I, uh, so I know that this is a longshot and whatnot
but…” He hesitated, staring into the other man’s solid, yet
comforting gaze.
“I don’t live here, I live a few hours north in Bakersfield, but I
ran out of gas on my way back from visiting my mother. I have no
money and no phone, is there any way I could use your phone or have
some coins for a phone booth or..”
As he finished his sentence the other man wordlessly reached into
the back pocket and pulled out a wallet that has seen many years. His
calloused fingers ruffled through the paper thin stack of cash and
brought out a singular twenty dollar bill. He placed it into the
desperate man’s now outstretched hand.
“Get home safely.”
The desperate man stood there, mouth agape. A soft thank you
escaped his lips as the other man tucked the slim stack of bills into
his wallet and walked away, the faded blue shirt fluttering in the
wind as he got into his truck and drove off.
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