mindpixel's Journal: When smoke gets in your hair...

It is chilly in Chile. Yesterday was the first really cold day--about 5 degrees C after the sun went down.

All summer I had been made sad by the little family that comes in everyday from far north of the city to try to collect coins on the street directly under my window. The parents can't yet be in their twenties and their son is two. When I came out of my building to go to the supermarket quite late last night, I saw them huddled in a shadow, the boy with an old hat sitting on a stoop with his bottle and his mother standing waiting to pass one of her little printed Garfield calenders she exchanges for coins. The father was sitting beside the boy and I thought at least they are together, which is better than I have managed with my own family.

I am earning exactly what it costs me to live and I have to be careful even with my coins, but I resolved to give them the money I had in an envelope to have my hair cut this month if they were still there when I returned from buying supplies for my dinner.

I walked down the street a bit with cold tears on my cheek when I caught some movement across the street in the corner of my eye. Just a group of beautiful people. Their statistics were so far out my brain had pulled them to the foreground. Four of them all in back. Two men and two women. All tall and perfect. The women looked like twins. Genetics had assured that their lives would not be too uncomfortable, I thought to myself and walked on, prefering to think about my little family behind me.

I was no longer hungry so I ducked into a cafe to have some tea and think and in the middle of tea and thought, the four beautiful people came in the cafe. I didn't look up from my little notebook, buy I noted the eight perfect legs walk by me. Thirty seconds passed and the legs had returned. They are going to sit in my little corner? Why, the place is full of room? I looked up and one of the beautiful men approached my table and opened a tray of Lucky Strikes and asked me if I smoked. They were pushing cigarettes!

I got very angery very quickly and essentially shouted, not in this life time! The four of them were shocked, and all took a step back. The man closed his tray and the four of them quickly left. I noticed a little man with a tally sheet counting the number of smokers in the cafe and when he noticed my notice, he bolted for the door.

I calmed down and drank my tea and read my book--yes, I carry a book with me even when I go to the supermarket--and then went home. It was past ten and my little family was still there in the shadows. I approached them and lowered myself to the level of the boy.

None of them were dressed very warmly. No gloves or scarves.

The boy smiled at me and offered me his bottle and I laughed maybe the most difficult laugh I have ever attempted and I asked them about their lives, which is how I knew at the start of this, that they came from far north of the city.

I explained that I myself had no money to spare but that the night was cold and that I would forgo my hair cut this month so that they could go home. I gave them my supermarket money and shooed them north as the mother said thank you uncle a few times. As I turned, she called out and asked me my name, Christopher, I called back.

I went inside to transfer $10,000 pesos from my hair envelope to my food envelope. I crossed hair off it and replaced it with charity.

I will grow my hair long.

beautiful people

[naoursla]

When I first read you description of the beautiful people I thought, "Ah, Chilean vampires!" It seems I wasn't too far off.

Re:beautiful people

[mindpixel]

dead on. emphisis on dead.