Paul Lost and Found

So, yesterday, December 1, 2010, I went out looking for him, starting at 7:30am. No Paul at the spot. 9:00am, no Paul. Walked the usual haunts. No one had seen him. Hey. I got a life, too. ran errands. Miserable weather. Just the kind outsiders don’t understand about VT. Its not the cold that kills you, unless you are homeless; its the windy/rainy days, temperature between high thirties and high forties, gray light, and nowhere to hide. Once cold, no way to shake the chill. Just when I was about to give up, there he was, back at his spot, 4:00.

The rain trickled. Wet and raw. Darkness seemed minutes away. I found a parking space a block away and ran back, without my coat or gloves, hoping he had not moved.”Where were you?” “I was in hiding. I didn’t want anyone to see me.”

He had gotten rid of the clothes assembled from thoughtful friends and the hospitality rack at Fletcher Allen. He shivered. I shivered. Impossible to get a sharp photo.

“You eat something?” “I think so.” “What did you eat?” “I don’t remember. Somebody brought me something.” I couldn’t give him any money, other than the dollar I always give him…. He seemed alert and strong. “Its a conspiracy. The cops don’t like me, because I ratted one out. That guy at COTS, he has it in for me. He won’t get me a bed.” Anytime he rants, I know his head is OK. I told him I had spoken with his sister and she had indicated she would call the Dr. who treated his wife at Dartmouth Hitchcock, a Dr. he trusts. I also said she said she would try to find a bed for him at Valley Vista. He managed a smile, a slight smile.

I left.

Checked the spots. Made it to the park. Nobody had seen him. Waited. Someone walked across the wall of City Hall and sat down to take in the sun and use his phone. “You know,” one of the guys said to me, “some don’t make it. We lost one already. Louis. It comes with the territory.” “He went to Sally’s for dinner last night. I saw him eating.” After some informed banter about living on the street, I left.

Found him walking down Church Street. Had his pack. “Left the other stuff where people who needed clothes could find it.”

We listened to some classical music with Sandy Li, a public defender. He said he was going to Pathways. That would be good. He headed back towards the park. I left.

Author: duckshots

Lapsed lawyer. Reader. Photographer. Jewish. Strongly attached to loving, caring, wife-Sharon. Working at remaining relevant. Hoping that my body and mind outlive my dreams. Maybe something I blog will make some sense.

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