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    CLJobe
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Billy - 1. Chapter 1

Upon graduating from college, I had earned a bachelors degree in a double major, accounting and computer science. With a small inheritance, I started my own accounting business, focussing on small businesses. After five years, I was quite successful. I purchased a townhouse on the North side of the community park with my office being on the South side of the park. I developed a habit of walking to the office, it was good exercise and it save me from having to buy a car.

My townhouse had two levels looking from the front and three levels looking from the back. The basement led directly to the outside where I had a small garden, hemmed in by a wooden fence. The developer of the townhouses had garages built across a back road which served all of the houses in the development. It was a neat set up and since I didn't have a car, I found it easy to rent out the space.

It was early in the spring, when I noticed a young man sitting at one of the picnic tables in the park. He had a faraway look, you could tell he was in the military by the clothes he was wearing. Military regulation shoes and pants, the T-shirt was all that green that the military likes so well.

On the way home, he was still sitting at the table. I notice him there every day for a week. “Nancy, have you noticed that young man sitting at that table in the park?” Nancy was my only employee, she functioned as secretary and assistant.

“No Mark, I haven’t noticed and then I don’t come to the office by way of the park.” Nancy lived in an apartment on the East side of the park, a short walking distance.

“I think I'll take a coffee break in the park.”

Curiosity was one of my bad traits. In fact in high school I was called Nose just for that reason. I stopped at the deli, bought two coffees and headed to the park. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

He just looked at me, his eyes seemed empty, I wondered what had he seen that left him like this. I sat the cup of coffee in front of him and proceeded to add sugar and powdered cream to my coffee. He just watched me. I took a sip and looked away. From the corner of my eye I could see him take the cup and look at the coffee. He smelled it and then tasted it, soon I saw him take the sugar and packet of cream, adding it to his coffee, then he took a sip. His eyes remained the same, but the corners of his mouth indicated a smile may be coming, it never fully developed.

Every day for the next two weeks, I took him a cup of coffee. He performed the same ritual, smelling the coffee, adding the sugar and cream, then drinking the coffee with an expressionless face. On the third week, I decided to try something different. Not only did I bring coffee, but also two sandwiches. I set the coffee and sandwich before him as I sat down across from him. He looked at the food, ritually prepared his coffee and watched me. I open my sandwich and took a bite. He watched me, I took three bites, he opened the sandwich I brought for him. He looked at the filling, smelled the meat and hesitantly took a bite. That was it, he actually smiled as he ate his sandwich and drank his coffee. For me this was a milestone.

Back at the office I related everything to Nancy, I think she kept a diary of the events. “I’m amazed that you showed so much patience. How long has it been since you started to take coffee to that man? Do you know his name?”

“It has been several weeks and no I don't know his name. I'll try and find out his name before the end of next week.”

The day I told Nancy I’d get to know his name, I set a box of fried chicken with fries and a biscuit, along with the coffee, in front of him. I took my lunch and sat across from him. The box of chicken was new, he watched me as I opened my box. He looked at my box and then his box, he opened his box and actually smiled. Now’s my chance.

“My name is Mark, what's your name?”

He looked puzzled as if he wasn't sure what his name was or even what a name meant. I pointed to myself and said Mark and then pointed to him. He seemed to have drifted away and then he looked at me, “Billy.”

“I’m glad to know you Billy, the chicken is good.”

He smiled and began to eat. I felt a little sorry since his hands where so dirty but I'm sure he appreciated the chicken. The rest of the month we had lunch, sometimes sandwiches, sometimes chicken and sometimes pizza.

One afternoon I went to take lunch to the park and he wasn't there. I became worried and wondered what happened. I sat there for about 15 minutes thinking he might have gone to the bathroom and would be right back. A park policeman was walking by, “Officer, what has happened to the young man who was sitting here”

“He was arrested”

“Why, I have been having lunch with him now for several weeks. He's harmless, what caused him to be arrested?”

“A woman filed a complaint against him.”

Where is he now?”

He's at the police station over on seventh.

Copyright © 2020 CLJobe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

5 minutes ago, weinerdog said:

Your Prologue used the work shelled shocked that makes me wonder if this is set in the past for that word isn't used these days.Whatever the women's complaint was I'm sure isn't valid.Billy most likely didn't say anything to the police 

You are right, Billy didn't say anything. I think the term shell shock is of mob genre. I'm an old  man, in years not in mind. 🙂

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On August 25, 2020 at 8:10 AM, CLJobe said:

You are right, Billy didn't say anything. I think the term shell shock is of mob genre. I'm an old  man, in years not in mind. 🙂

Good start with 'Billy', and there's no harm in someone holding out an 'open hand & open heart' to someone who may be in need. Lord knows we could all use someone like Mark these days.

As for your comment, "I'm an old man, in years not in mind", I'm remember my late Mom saying (usually on her birthday), "You're only as old as you feel". I also recall a version of that line used in an episode of Mom's favourite TV show 'Golden Girls'. One lady was complaining about getting older and another (the 'cougar' Blanche) used that line, but added "That's why I sit next to the pool boy... so I can 'feel' young." :o 

Looking forward to more 'Billy'.

Tony

 

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2 hours ago, Anton_Cloche said:

Good start with 'Billy', and there's no harm in someone holding out an 'open hand & open heart' to someone who may be in need. Lord knows we could all use someone like Mark these days.

As for your comment, "I'm an old man, in years not in mind", I'm remember my late Mom saying (usually on her birthday), "You're only as old as you feel". I also recall a version of that line used in an episode of Mom's favourite TV show 'Golden Girls'. One lady was complaining about getting older and another (the 'cougar' Blanche) used that line, but added "That's why I sit next to the pool boy... so I can 'feel' young." :o 

Looking forward to more 'Billy'.

Tony

 

There's truth in Blanche's words. I can't sit next to the pool boy, but I can write about youth. Thanks for the comment. I think you and I are becoming a "ghost" friend.

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