The Girl Who Watched

They were sitting on the coner of the street. The busy intersection thrummed with noise, but they lay there, propped against the wall, staring. Staring listlessly out at the people that passed by. If one of those people looked like they might be kind, or afraid, the boy would stir himself and ask if there was any spare change to be had. Mostly there wasn't.

She had been watching them for a couple days now. She'd take her daily walk at lunch and see them, supine and baking in the heat on the busy corner. The girl was a junkie, she never roused herself for anything but the little packets the boy bought for her with the money he begged. The boy didn't seem to use any drugs. Or alcohol. Or food. He took all the money he collected and bought the little baggies of powder and handed them over to the girl. Thankfully the people downtown were distrustful of homeless people, and gave the boy food instead of money sometimes; the girl wasn't interested in anything but the powder. The gir who watched thought maybe he'd never eat otherwise.

The girl who watched had made her decision a week ago. The boy could be saved, maybe even the girl junkie. She would save them.

People thought it was a bad habit. Finding homeless or broken people and giving them hope and a chance at a normal life.

But they were wrong, the true bad habit was her inability to hear what she had inside herself under the din of everybody else's truths and lies. Saving people was the only thing she knew for certain was all her; the only truth she had was that this was the only thing that made her feel good.

So two days later she walked over to them. Hands on hips she feigned outrage at their state. 

As expected the boy was defensive. Until she held the money out. Money almost always buys the truth. And his truth spilled out. The truth she had already known, or guessed at. Teenage lovers, disapproving parents, and a vow never to leave one another. Except the girl had, she'd left him for the drugs a year ago; and, thinking he could lead her back, he followed. And wound up hungry and sunburned on the busy,noisy street corner everyday.

The girl who watched knew now that the boy would be saved. She added more money to the bill already in her hand and the boy swallowed hard. His eyes never flicked to the girl junkie. The girl who watched added a business card to the money and said it was all his if he and his girl junkie took themselves and that card to the addressed listed on it.

The address was for a halfway house that specialized in cases exactly like theirs. Drugs, mental illness, or just hopelessness. They provided a safe place to stay, detox if necessary, food, and classes on resume writing and information on getting one's GED. It was by referral only, but the girl who watched was listened to by the man who ran it. It seemed that her referrals always made it. Were saved.

The boy agreed and took the money and the card. He seemed confused. He asked why. Why them. The girl who watched told him that the truth was that he could be happy, that happiness wasn't just a wish in his heart. She told him that it wouldn't be the teen angst story that was the start of his journey with the girl junkie, and it wouldn't be the grinding pain of their life now, it would just be a life. A regular life full of sandwiches, and television, and buying groceries, but also at least one genuine smile everyday that he wasn't forcing to thank somebody for their spare change.

The idea that a life like that could exist seemed to be beyond him, but the wad of cash in his hand made him trust that what she said was true. He thanked her.

As she walked away the girl who watched thought to herself that he wasn't really any different from any other person she'd ever met. The noise she walked through every day had a single theme, no matter how it was approached by the person feeling the thought. We all just want to be loved, she mused to herself. We all just walk through life waiting for someone to tell us that we're remarkable. That we're loved.

The girl who watched felt grateful that she could see that, and wanted to find a way to tell all the people who needed to hear it, you're remarkable and you are loved.