WEARING THE GUY IN THE PICTURE

By William Snesrud

Somebody was softly kicking my feet as if trying to get my attention.

“Hey old man, you need to get up and move before they come through and haul you off again.”

As I slowly opened one eye at a time, I realized I was no longer in my comfy recliner but instead on a hard surface with the sun glaring down on me causing issues with focusing as I opened my eyes.

Yep, something was vastly different than my tv room at home. I seemed to be laying on something rather hard and much uncomfortable as I looked up into the bright sunlight and found myself staring into a shadow of a man who was once again nudging my legs with his foot.

“Come on old man, this is Doug and I need you to get up and gather your stuff,” he stated. “Last time they hauled you off you nearly didn’t make it back which would mean I couldn’t help you anymore.”

As the shadowy figure came more into focus, he appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties with clothes that said he must work in a job with a very casual setting.

I sheepishly asked, “What do you mean take me away?”

“Come on you know,” he responded with a voice of plea and frustration. “If you don’t get up and move around they will take you away and then the work we have been doing to help get your true life back will have been wasted.”

As I began to stretch the sleepy stiffness out of my legs, I began to take notice that my clothes were no longer sweatpants and a t-shirt, but instead a pair of worn and somewhat dirty jeans with an oversized t-shirt covered by a red and blue checkered long-sleeve shirt that also appeared to be somewhat worn and a bit on the dirty side.

Sitting up a bit, I noticed also that I was wearing what seemed to be a pair of old steel-toed work boots with some of the leather worn off the steel-toes, along with a pair of grayish looking gym socks.

I found myself hanging on to an oversized pillow which was resting on top of a pile made of two full size plastic garbage bags along with an old suitcase that looked as if it had traveled hundreds of trips over thousands of miles.

As I began to stand up, I saw my reflection in the window of the building I was apparently sleeping by and found I was also wearing a well worn old black drivers cap.

It was at that point that I realized I seemed to be dressed in the same style of clothes that a homeless man in Phoenix was wearing in a picture that had caught my eye the previous day within a story about some guy with a coffee shop helping the homeless in Arizona.

“Come on old man, let me help grab up your stuff and get on over to the coffee shop.”

As I stood and took a quick account of all my faculties, the worn somewhat dirty clothes I was wearing, the lined dark black jean jacket that sat atop the garbage bags and suitcase, I squinted a bit, still bothered by the bright sun, and asked the guy, “You know who I am?”

“We don’t have time to be silly right now,” he replied with a sense of urgency in his voice. “But of course, I know who you are, you are Karl Janis, and I am Doug, your homeless sponsor.”

“Karl Janis?” I said more like a question than a response.

Thinking back to that picture I had been fascinated by, I decided that must be the name of the guy. This was something I needed to know more about.

Realizing the urgency Doug had pronounced about moving from the spot I was at, I joined him in gathering up my stuff and then proceeded to try and keep up with him as he hustled down the sidewalk and around the corner.

As we walked, I figured I needed to produce a reason why I had no clue about the clothes I was wearing or even who I was supposed to be.

I turned to this Doug fellow and said, “Sorry about feeling lost, but I stumbled and hit my head against the wall underneath those windows as I was getting ready to rest last night. It must have messed with my memory, plus I have a nasty headache as well.”

“No problem,” he answered with a smile. “Let’s get you and your stuff back to the coffee shop before those Phoenix people begin to run their daily roundup of homeless people in another fifteen minutes or so.”

“You’re taking me to a coffee shop?”

“You must have really zapped your head and memory Karl, of course my coffee shop,” he reflected while pointing a couple of doors down ahead of us.

The sign read, Alleviate Coffee, Sandwich & Soup Kitchen.

I questioned the destination, “they allow folks like me into that place?”

“Of course, it is my establishment and I have been helping the homeless there for several years. It’s one of the reasons I opened the place.”

With that I followed him through the front doors and down a short hall into a side room where he had it set up with a small table, three chairs, some shelving and a cot complete with blankets and a pillow.

“You know the routine, get yourself comfortable while I go get some hot chocolate and a couple of egg, sausage and cheese biscuits for you.”

With that Doug disappeared out of the room, leaving me to put my stuff orderly by the shelving before I began to snoop.

In one bag I found a couple of extra pair of jeans along with some clean underwear, t-shirts and three button up outer shirts plus a pair of colorful pullover polo type shirts as well. It seemed this Karl Janis character also had some extra socks but just one extra pair of shoes, some older Keds Tennis shoes. All the clothes seemed to have had seen many days of wear but yet recently washed.

Looking in the small of the two bags, I discovered the essential items like deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush, an electric razor, and some after shave, the latter likely to help keep the guy from not smelling too bad after a few days on the streets.

Before I had the chance to open the suitcase Doug returned with large mug of hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows along with those couple of breakfast biscuit sandwiches and a large chocolate chip cookie.

“You enjoy the eats and I will be back in a bit, maybe eating will help with your headache,” he noted as he set the food on the table and then quickly turned and left the room once again.

While getting some food in my tummy, I studied the suitcase and noticed how it was still very sturdy despite it having the appearance of much wear and tear from traveling or just moving around on the streets.

Continuing to snoop the background of this Karl Janis that I seemed to have become, I opened the suitcase and the first thing I found were three books. One being a copy of the Bible, one being a copy of “The Power of Positive Thinking” by Norman Vincent Peale, and the third being a copy of the “12 Steps for Alcoholics and Addicts”.

All three books had obviously been read several times over by their appearance and while giving them each a quick flipping through the pages, I found scribbled notes filling in around the edges within each book. To me it was saying that this Janis guy was a reader and had the want deep within himself of getting back to a better life than on the streets.

Underneath the books was a couple of notepads, maps of Kansas, Nebraska, and Iowa as well as several very faded pictures of what appeared to be possible members of this guys family at one time.

Looking through the notepads I found scribbling on several pages, but just as I began to read them, Doug reappeared.

“Here is another big mug of hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows plus an apple and a banana to keep you full for now.”

With my body finally warming up, I stretched long and hard for a moment before turning to Doug and asking, “What’s meant by Alleviate?”

“Replying with a bit of sarcasm, Doug said, “Karl, you’ve heard this story before.”

As I threw my hands up in the air, giving him a reminder that I could not remember, he began to remind of the story behind the name Alleviate.

He told me how the definition of Alleviate was ‘to make suffering, deficiency, or a problem less severe’ and that fit his personality because he had previously worked with people who were either disabled or suffering from early forms of dementia.

Alleviate covers a lot of things he continued, from helping solve the deficiency of food and drink of the regular customers to the opportunity to helping those less fortunate to get some food and drink in their system while he would help them work at getting their life back.

“I’ve been here for five years now, and the location has worked delightfully well for both the business end as well as my passion to help others.”

“So, am I just one of your projects?”

“No, I do not consider any of the homeless or unfortunate folks I have helped as simply projects,” he responded. “I consider it a calling to help my fellow man without the hassles of bureaucracy found with the government.”

Doug went on to explain that over the past four years he had helped well over thirty folks whose circumstances had become very bleak to rediscover themselves, their past, their families, and for most a future of hope, faith, and love.

I then began to press Doug about this Karl Janis whom I seemed to have become, “Looking through some of the stuff I have here I was curious to note that there seems to be not proper identification of who I am, but yet you know who I am?”

“Yep, you really did whack your head and lose some memory files,” he responded while shaking his head in concern.

He then explained that after several visits here the two of them decided to trust him with Janis’s wallet so he could put it in the store safe because those times on the streets they did not want someone to come along and steal his personal information. Plus, as Doug pointed out, I was apparently carrying around close to $1,200. He did mention that my wallet held an outdated Arizona driver’s license as well as a very faded Kansas driver’s license from some small town called Clay Center.

“So, what more can you remind me about myself since I seemed to have lost my memory?”

“Let us remember, I first came across you about three months ago on a corner a couple of blocks from here during a severe rainstorm. I brought you here and got you dried out and since then we have had several lengthy talks about you and your past.

Doug continued by informing me that I had at one time been a successful educator until my wife and two kids, ages seven and nine, were killed in a tragic automobile accident. From there I, this Janis fellow, struggled with the loss of his family and one day, took some paperwork to his attorney giving him permission to sell his home and all the belongings within and take the proceeds and put them in an investment portfolio with a bank in Clay Center, Kansas, the last known address of Janis in his real life.

At that point, this Janis guy just walked away from life as he knew it, leaving a note for his three siblings, put $5,000 in his pocket and enough clothes for a long trip and just drove away.

Eventually, according to Doug, Janis ended up in the small town of Craig, Colorado where he left his car in the Wal-Mart parking lot, mailed the keys to the local police department telling them to donate the car to someone who needed one. Janis then got on a bus and headed south to Arizona.

After trying to start over, even with a new name of Gus Wellington, Janis floundered and fought depression and began drinking to the point where he could even keep minimal jobs like cooking or washing dishes in a restaurant.

At that point I looked at Doug and pretended it was all coming back to me, “Wow, I forgot what I mess I have been sometimes. Right now, my headache is getting worse and if it is okay, I think I will change into some cleaner clothes and crash on that cot for a nap.”

Doug nodded his head in agreement before saying, “That is never a problem Karl, you know that. After you change, just put the clothes you have on in a nice pile by the door and I will bag them up and take them home to wash them.”

“Thanks Doug, you are an awesome guy and apparently friend. I really appreciate that.”

“I will check with you in a while Karl,” added Doug as he headed for the door and turned the lights out.

After changing clothes into a fresh pair of everything, I set the dirty stuff by the door as requested, returned to the cot and laid down, falling asleep within moments.

What the heck is making my face all wet?

I opened my eyes and found myself back in my tv room laying back in my comfy recliner, wearing my normal sweatpants and t-shirt while my puppy was literally standing on my chest looking down at me after giving me many very wet kisses.

I was home once again, wearing my own clothes and now wondering just how real the dream was I just experienced.

Guess that will be a story for another day.