Short Story V
***
The deal was simple. For his Hat, The Hobo would be able to drive off in the Bright Pink Porsche parked along the side of the pavement.
Like most mortal men, he did not hesitate the slightest bit. The Hobo threw his Hat down onto the ground and snatched the keys from the hands of the man offering the deal. So anxious was The Hobo is sealing the deal that he never ever saw the face of the other party.
So begins the adventure of The Hobo on the roads and highways of the country. He sped across the town, dashed through traffic lights, feeling the adrenaline rush through him as he went faster and faster. It was the first time he has touched a Bright Pink Porsche and much less to say, the first time he has driven one. The feeling was great and he swore that he would be willing to die just for this experience.
What he said almost came true, for it was in his reverie of thoughts that the car swerved into oncoming traffic and it was only with sheer luck that he managed to turn the car back and away from that impending threat of doom. Nonetheless, he felt that he has just gotten the best deal of his life and more good luck was to come. Stopping at a gas station somewhere along the highway he was travelling on now, he got off to buy a bottle of beer to celebrate.
Time flew by quickly as he zoomed around the country, visiting places he has never been and enjoying his beer in the comfort of his newfound treasure occasionally. Soon, night has fallen. The Hobo was drunk and speeding down a certain dusty road like there's no tomorrow and this reckless action attracted the attention of the cop who usually has nothing better to do, hiding behind signboards, trying to find opportunities to arrest idiots like The Hobo. A quick check on his instruments made the cop very happy - The Hobo was speeding at 50mph over the speed limit and he was speeding in a stolen car.
Continuing the adventures of The Hobo came the chase by the cop. Drunk as The Hobo was, he knew he had to evade the cop chasing him, who was at the same time yelling out to him to stop for he was speeding and the car he was driving in was suspected to be stolen. The Hobo stepped on the accelerator with all his might but the car does not seem to be speeding up, and as a matter of fact, it was slowing down. A quick glance at the fuel gauge explained to him why. He needed to escape, he needed to run away, he needed to disappear. Without a second thought, he open the car door and dived out of the car, rolling down the slope beside the dusty road, rolling, rolling, rolling.
It was slightly before daybreak before The Hobo regained consciousness. He was alone, somewhere near the shoreline. There was a pier nearby and he walked towards it. As he walked, he thought.
How could there be such a perfect deal in life? There was no such thing as a free meal and even as a hobo, he knew that. People always expected something in return even when they offer that little bits of leftover that was not even fitting to serve to animals. Even those who request nothing in return seize the chance to gloat at him, to despise him. In that moment of greed, he had allowed himself to fall into a trap, to be the scapegoat of another person's wrongdoings.
But he could have escaped. Why did the car choose to run out of fuel at that time? Why did fate choose to toy with his life like that? Why did the cop have to notice him speeding? Why... Why... Why did he have so many people to blame? so many excuses for himself? So what if the above accusations never happened? He still chose his path himself - he chose to speed, he chose to accept the deal and he himself was incapable of even refuelling his own car. There's a Chinese saying that goes: "Don't wear a hat thats too big for your head" This was indeed very true, for he had chose to destroy himself by being a hobo already, what was there to be gained by the luxury he never bothered to work for?
Taking about hats, where was his hat? The hat was one of the few things that he actually worked for and one of those few things which stood by him and was useful all these year. He recalled how he helped someone shift furniture or something like that to be able to take that hat as a reward. At least he worked for it. Furthermore, the hat was his home, his shelter. It protected him from the sun, from the rain. It gave him protection, it gave him an identity too. Yet, he dumped it for something which was just material, something that has not emotional value to him, something which he cannot maintain, something which does not even exist now.
Leaning against the railings of the pier, he stared out into the open sea. The sun slowly burst out from the horizon and with it came the sirens of police cars. He slowly turned around. There were at least a dozen police men moving towards him. They cautioned him to not move and co-operate with them in the investigations of the stolen car. Suddenly, at the corner of his eyes, he glimpsed his hat floating on the murky grey waters of the sea. With equal enthusiasm in accepting the deal the previous day, he jumped over the railings. The policemen rushed up to the edge of the pier and all they saw was a calm sea, with nothing in sight.
Like most mortal men, he did not hesitate the slightest bit. The Hobo threw his Hat down onto the ground and snatched the keys from the hands of the man offering the deal. So anxious was The Hobo is sealing the deal that he never ever saw the face of the other party.
So begins the adventure of The Hobo on the roads and highways of the country. He sped across the town, dashed through traffic lights, feeling the adrenaline rush through him as he went faster and faster. It was the first time he has touched a Bright Pink Porsche and much less to say, the first time he has driven one. The feeling was great and he swore that he would be willing to die just for this experience.
What he said almost came true, for it was in his reverie of thoughts that the car swerved into oncoming traffic and it was only with sheer luck that he managed to turn the car back and away from that impending threat of doom. Nonetheless, he felt that he has just gotten the best deal of his life and more good luck was to come. Stopping at a gas station somewhere along the highway he was travelling on now, he got off to buy a bottle of beer to celebrate.
Time flew by quickly as he zoomed around the country, visiting places he has never been and enjoying his beer in the comfort of his newfound treasure occasionally. Soon, night has fallen. The Hobo was drunk and speeding down a certain dusty road like there's no tomorrow and this reckless action attracted the attention of the cop who usually has nothing better to do, hiding behind signboards, trying to find opportunities to arrest idiots like The Hobo. A quick check on his instruments made the cop very happy - The Hobo was speeding at 50mph over the speed limit and he was speeding in a stolen car.
Continuing the adventures of The Hobo came the chase by the cop. Drunk as The Hobo was, he knew he had to evade the cop chasing him, who was at the same time yelling out to him to stop for he was speeding and the car he was driving in was suspected to be stolen. The Hobo stepped on the accelerator with all his might but the car does not seem to be speeding up, and as a matter of fact, it was slowing down. A quick glance at the fuel gauge explained to him why. He needed to escape, he needed to run away, he needed to disappear. Without a second thought, he open the car door and dived out of the car, rolling down the slope beside the dusty road, rolling, rolling, rolling.
It was slightly before daybreak before The Hobo regained consciousness. He was alone, somewhere near the shoreline. There was a pier nearby and he walked towards it. As he walked, he thought.
How could there be such a perfect deal in life? There was no such thing as a free meal and even as a hobo, he knew that. People always expected something in return even when they offer that little bits of leftover that was not even fitting to serve to animals. Even those who request nothing in return seize the chance to gloat at him, to despise him. In that moment of greed, he had allowed himself to fall into a trap, to be the scapegoat of another person's wrongdoings.
But he could have escaped. Why did the car choose to run out of fuel at that time? Why did fate choose to toy with his life like that? Why did the cop have to notice him speeding? Why... Why... Why did he have so many people to blame? so many excuses for himself? So what if the above accusations never happened? He still chose his path himself - he chose to speed, he chose to accept the deal and he himself was incapable of even refuelling his own car. There's a Chinese saying that goes: "Don't wear a hat thats too big for your head" This was indeed very true, for he had chose to destroy himself by being a hobo already, what was there to be gained by the luxury he never bothered to work for?
Taking about hats, where was his hat? The hat was one of the few things that he actually worked for and one of those few things which stood by him and was useful all these year. He recalled how he helped someone shift furniture or something like that to be able to take that hat as a reward. At least he worked for it. Furthermore, the hat was his home, his shelter. It protected him from the sun, from the rain. It gave him protection, it gave him an identity too. Yet, he dumped it for something which was just material, something that has not emotional value to him, something which he cannot maintain, something which does not even exist now.
Leaning against the railings of the pier, he stared out into the open sea. The sun slowly burst out from the horizon and with it came the sirens of police cars. He slowly turned around. There were at least a dozen police men moving towards him. They cautioned him to not move and co-operate with them in the investigations of the stolen car. Suddenly, at the corner of his eyes, he glimpsed his hat floating on the murky grey waters of the sea. With equal enthusiasm in accepting the deal the previous day, he jumped over the railings. The policemen rushed up to the edge of the pier and all they saw was a calm sea, with nothing in sight.
Gerald | Tuesday, January 22, 2008 at 11:26 PM |
