Chapter 6 continued.

John went to the soup kitchen every Saturday. He told me it kept him still involved with people, and that he needed to eat every once and a while. I was inspired by him telling me everything the PRM (Portland Rescue Mission) offered. He estimated that more than 700 meals were given daily, and that clothes, and showers were open to people who stayed overnight.

"I can't stay there forever, so I guess every now and then when I get horribly dirty I go in."
"Don't they offer rehabilitation programs?"
"Yeah, they do."

I looked at him curiously, and he knew what I was thinking.

"Look, I don't have any drug problems or a problem with the way I live. I don't need anyone's pity, just a good meal every once in a while."

His anger was evident, but I still felt pity for him. I felt more of fear for him. His situation terrified me. My biggest fear was being who he was, or rather what he was. Alone with nothing. Alone with no one. Just alone.

In a way, were both alike in that respect. I had lost someone, but not nearly as bad as he so briefly stated. We both were abandoned. I began to look at myself differently when I was with him for that hour. I was pathetic. I had a place to live, I had an opportunity at success, and I had a dear friend who loved me. A friend who would never give up on me. I also had a cat who loved to hate to be close to me. Compared to him, I had everything.

But I still felt so alone.


Thinking of this, I suddenly had an urge.

"You go every Saturday there, right?"
"Yeah."
"Do you mind if I went with you this Saturday?"
"What the hell for?"
"I've always wanted to see the inside of that place, and you know, see the people I guess."
"I suppose we are a sight to see."