Better to Worse to Better

My name is Billy Porter and my life sucks. Or at least it did until I met my "Homeless Godfather." He wasn't my real godfather, but he was homeless. In fact, that's really all he was or all he appeared to be. Just a homeless guy. But then he really wasn't... Now I am even confusing myself. I guess in order for you to understand I'll just tell the story. Here it is from the beginning:

One Monday I was really feeling sorry for myself. I hated my job at the real estate company my father owned. I was still just the secretary because Dad said I didn't show potential for more responsibility Whatever that meant. I couldn't afford a car, so I always walked the six blocks home. This group of thugs hung out in an alley by my apartment building and always mugged me at least once a week. If I didn't have at least twenty dollars they would take something dumb like my shoes or my hat. So, I usually just had the twenty dollars ready for them. I love this city! (I hope you sense the sarcasm.) And my apartment was small and cramped and I hated living there, but my father's company owned it, which gave me a good deal and it was all I could afford.

This day in particular on my walk home, the thugs were feeling especially un-generous and took my money and my shoes. After that, a guy ran over my foot with his bicycle. I cursed him and myself and the fact that I didn't have a car that I could drive to save me all this torment. Then I was limping home, muttering out loud about everything I hated; my life, my stupid job, my apartment, the thugs, that guy on the bike...when a man stepped out of an alley and blocked my path. He looked dirty and rough. Mismatched clothing, no shoes, shaggy hair. Probably homeless.

"Hold it right there," I said. "Some guys back there already beat you to it and took everything I had. I have nothing left. Sorry to disappoint you, but don't waste your time."

The man looked at me curiously. Then smiled. "That's okay, Billy. I'm not going to rob you."

"How do you know my name?" I asked checking to make sure I didn't have a nametag or anything on."

"I'm your homeless godfather," he said proudly.

I stared at him for a few long moments. "Right, and I'm your...guy who's at a loss for words. But seriously, how do you know my name. Have we met?"

"No. And I told you, I'm your homeless godfather."

"But why are you homeless?"

"I don't have a home."

"No, I meant-" I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. "You know, I don't have the energy for this right now. You have a good day."

I tried to step around him, but he grabbed my arm. "I'm supposed to help you."

I looked him up and down. "You...help...me?"

He nodded.

"How?"

"You let me crash at your place for tonight and by the end of tomorrow you will love your life."

"No kidding," I said. "Yeah, I'll pass."

"But don't you just hate your life so much? You said so."

"Yes, but I don't know you," I said as I started walking backward away. "This is obviously some sort of scam." I turned to walk away, but he was in front of me again. I gasped and looked behind me, then back at him. "How did you do that?"

He grinned. "Which way to home?"

So, I ended up bringing home my apparent homeless godfather. He looked around the apartment as if it were a castle. "So much space."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, for Tom Thumb."

He sat on the couch. "So, the first step to improving your life is to quit your job."

I turned to him. "What?"

He nodded. "First thing tomorrow morning call your father and tell him you quit and give all the details as to why. Don't hold anything back."

I was already regretting this setup. Homeless Godfather surprisingly came with a lot of baggage and not pleasant-smelling baggage either. Soon the small apartment seemed to shrink to half its size and smelled like a garbage can. But if doing what he says makes him move back out at the end at least then I decided to try it. At this point, I didn't seem to have anything to lose.

So, the next morning in colorful language I told my father everything I felt about working for his company and how he treated me and everything. Then I quit. As I hung up the phone I actually smiled. Homeless Godfather smiled back.

"That felt pretty good actually."

"That's because you're one step closer to a happy life."

I felt empowered and excited. "So, what's next?"

"We need to take care of those thugs who keep stealing your stuff."

I felt my stomach constrict. "How do we do that?"

"You will challenge them. Walk right up to them and demand all your money and shoes back."

An hour later I sat down at the front stoop of my building. I did find the group of bullies and challenged them. But I didn't get my stuff back. All I got was a good beating. I sat there with my black eye and broken spirit when a nice red Mustang pulled up at the curb in front of me. Did some rich guy move in without me noticing? But why would they live in this building? Before I could wonder anymore my dear homeless godfather stepped out of the car.

Even though it was extremely painful, I jumped to my feet.

"Where did you get that?"

He smiled. "I stole it. It's your new car! Now you don't have to walk anymore and as I see the encounter with the thieves didn't go too well it will save you the trouble."

I fumed. "You can't just steal a-"

Sirens interrupted my words. I looked over to the homeless man, but he had disappeared. Before I knew it, I was cuffed and in the back of a cop car on my way to jail. I used my phone call to call my dad.

"Dad, I need you to bail me out of jail."

"What? Man, Billy, you are on fire today. I don't know what to do anymore."

"No wait, I have an explanation. I met this homeless guy and-"

"I don't want to hear it! I have tried to teach you responsibility. It is time you learn from your mistakes. And we're selling that building you're living in, so you need to start looking for a new place. I suppose prison will have to do for now."

Then he hung up.

I sat in my cell contemplating the day. I lost my job, my apartment, my freedom, my ability to open my left eye, and, surprisingly what bothered me most, my relationship with my father. I had nothing and nobody.

"Hey, Billy."

I looked up to find Homeless Godfather looking down at me from the other side of the bars. I frowned at him.

"Leave me alone."

"But I'm here to help you love your life."

"Help me love-" I could hardly spit the words out. "All you've done is make everything worse. You have completely ruined my life. It's all over! I have nothing. And I'll probably get five or more years for the car that you stole. Everything you've told me to do to make my life better has done the complete opposite! So seriously, just leave me alone."

He was silent for a while then asked. "So, you don't love your life now?"

I rolled my eyes and didn't even bother to answer. It was quiet for a while. I figured he left. I sat and wallowed for a minute then stood up to pace. I choked on my scream when I almost ran into Homeless Godfather standing in front of me inside the cell. He touched my forehead, and everything went dark.

I was suddenly on the streets, cars zooming past and people pushing past me. My foot hurt and I looked down. No shoes. There was a bicycle tread mark on my white sock.

"What the heck?" I said out loud. I started walking towards my apartment. That was the weirdest dream I ever had. I was relieved to be out of that jail cell dream or not.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and stepped in. No stinky homeless guy taking up space. It strangely felt huge and overly spacious in the apartment. Wait, this must mean I didn't quit my job. My heart jumped and I flew back out the door. I jogged the whole six blocks until I was back at work. I rushed to my father's office and opened the door.

"Dad!"

He jumped and looked up at me from his papers. "Billy, what-"

"Dad, I know you're going to sell my apartment building."

He looked troubled. "We haven't even officially de-how did you know that?"

"It doesn't matter," I said waving my hands. "I want to ask if I can keep it actually. Personally, I'll take out a business loan or whatever. You can teach me what I need to do. But I have a really good idea for a nonprofit..."

We talked business for about an hour. I have never felt so grown up. Dad even shook my hand before I left. I still didn't even have shoes on, but I had a skip in my step as I headed home. My happiness was halted for a moment when I saw police cars by my building. And the red mustang...

I crouched behind a woman standing in the small crowd that had gathered. "Any idea what happened?"

She turned to look at me and smiled. "Yes, those punk kids finally got what was coming to them. They stole Mr. Larson's car, but he saw them and called them in. They won't be bothering any of us for a while."

I straightened up in time to see my tormentors being escorted into the police cars. Huh, well that's one less thing to worry about. I pushed through the crowd, the skip back in my step. At the door I felt eyes on me and turned around. There was a man across the street staring at me. He wore a hat and fancy business suit. I just about turned around when I recognized him as Homeless Godfather. My jaw dropped. He smiled and winked at me then turned to stroll down the street.

So, I am Billy Porter, and I love my life. I work with my father, I don't have a car, and I still live in the same apartment. But I am happy and feel my life has improved. Homeless Godfather helped me improve it. Even though he really didn't do anything at all. I don't even know if he actually existed and if any of that day ever happened. But I now see potential in everything and everyone.