He was an extremely odd person. I would pass him by on my bus ride to work and I could not help but to stare at him each day. He carried nothing with him besides a bagel sandwich, partly concealed in a lunch bag. On the bus, I would always get off before his stop, and I would return from work with him still in the spot in which I saw him before my departure.
It was a gray sweat shirt that he would wear every day, including a pair of dark shades. On the bus, this man would just stare out the window, gazing into his thoughts, while his sandwich was slowly munched on. The sandwich would be gone when I returned from my daily job, but the wrappings would still be on his lap. I wondered where he would go during the day, if he went anywhere.
Around mid April, work started to pick up pace and I was occasionally running to the bus before work, as to the reason I was finishing some overnight project and was unusually late. One of these occasions, I was running so fast, I knew not where I was heading, and plummeted straight into this curious man. He fell to the ground and his sun glasses skid across the pavement as if it were on ice. I felt terrible and tried to help him up, but he would not look me in the eyes and scrambled like a rat to retrieve the glasses which fell off his face.
I said "Sir! I am so sorry, are you O.K.?"
Yet he still would not look at me or say anything as he scrambled for the glasses.
After about fifteen seconds, he closed his hand around the shades and threw himself into a heavy run, away from the bus. Why he did this? I know not. But he was certainly hiding something.
The next day, at the bus stop, I found the man sitting on the bus bench eating his sandwich. I hesitantly approached him, so I could apologize about the incident of the previous day. My feet took me to directly in front of this man. I expected him to look up at me, considering I cast a long shadow across him. I stood for at least 3 minutes, or so it felt, and he still did not acknowledge my presence. I mustered up the courage and uttered "Hello."
He automatically shot his glance up toward me and muttered "How long were you here."
"Oh", I said ,"just a few minutes, that's all. I figured you would see me."
His expression did not falter, it was still serious and mournful.
"Anyway", I continued "I just was hoping to apologize for my running into you yesterday.
"You broke my glasses" he uttered without emotion.
It was then, did I realize the large crack expanding across the right lens of his shades.
"I am, again, so sorry. Please, let me buy you a new pair. It's the least I can do."
He mumbled "Okay...".
Suddenly the bus arrived and I had a silent trip to my work, the eye care facility.
Considering I did work at the eye care facility, I took the liberty to buy the nicest pair of sun glasses I could find. I had an employee discount, even though it was not my department. I worked in the research center, specializing in the very chemistry involved subject of eyesight regeneration. Some find this subject a lost cause.
I gave the glasses to the man at the bus stop after work. To my surprise he never once looked down at them, he just rubbed his hands over them repeatedly and told me his name was Goliath.
I thought it was a peculiar name. I've heard people named David, but never Goliath.
It really was just an ugly name.
To my utter disappointment, he never once put them on. It seems strange that he would be embarrassed to do it. What was there to hide?
But there was something to hide.
I was smart enough to put together the pieces.
Goliath was blind.
I was sad for him. Truly, I was! All this time I figured he was just a grumpy strange person, he really had a reason to be grumpy, after all.
It took me a few days to finally bring up the subject to him.
I was sitting on the adjacent seat on the bus when I told him "Goliath, I understand now, that you're blind. I just wanted to make that clear. I hope we could be friends-"
"Congratulations!" he blurted sardonically, "I'm pretty sure it's clear I don't have this special ability that god has granted all the other children!" He sat back in his seat and turned towards the window. He was wearing the glasses I gave him.
A small smile curled on my lips, then I became serious again.
"Special ability?" I asked "What do you mean? You know what eyesight is."
"Know..." Goliath said "...Yes. Experienced...no."
Thus ended our discussion.
A man who never experienced sight. I could never survive like that. Never.
I was so quizzical about this strange man, that I could not help but to tell everyone at the eye facility. Everyone gathered in the lab during the lunch break to hear me tell them about the all remarkable Goliath. Even the CEO, Bernie Haleye was, to my surprise, listening as intently as the others.
While I was sitting at my computer, Mr. Haleye approached me in a very solemn manner with my boss, and the research center collaborator.
"Mr. Haleye?" said I. "What is this about?"
Bernie Haleye's large mustache quivered across his lip.
"Mr. Thurth," he mumbled ",We would like to ask something of you...." Mr. Haleye nodded to the men standing near him. "You see, the research you have been producing to the research department, about eyesight rejuvenation, is not a complete dead end."
What he was trying to tell did not trigger the correct portions of my mind, I was insulted to hear that anyone thought my research was a dead end.
Mr. Haleye continued "We have been secretly been studying your research...and...have reached a breakthrough. Eyesight can be rejuvenated, theoretically"
"What do you mean "theoretically"."
"I mean...we need a human, a guinea pig, so to speak, that will be capable to bear eyesight. Especially without...mental deterioration."
I was stunned "You want Goliath to do this, to handle the mental trauma. He was born without sight, his mental capacity can't handle it!" I stood up "You need someone who recently lost sight...so the world won't tear their mind apart! Goliath's mind is too fragile! He won't want this!"
We stood in utter silence for a few incomprehensible seconds.
"I don't think that is you're choice whether he does or doesn't participate." said Mr. Haleye understandably. "If you don't ask him...I will. We must know what kind of mental trauma will be released before we let others try this. We must."
What could I do? He was CEO for pete's sake. I had to agree.
The day after, I walked carefully up to Goliath sitting in his usual spot, waiting for the bus to transport him to wherever he went.
"Goliath..." I was going to ask him, but something else came out "where do you live?"
His face twisted into a confused scowl "I...will not even answer that. A stalker would do me no good."
I planted my hand to my face.
"Goliath, look I just want to talk to you about...my work. I work with eye care, and treatment...glasses, you understand, right?"
"Yes"
"Okay...well, we have made a new discovery, one that could change your life."
"Yes?"
I swallowed stiffly "...How would you like your eyes back. Metaphorically speaking. Well...vision...I guess would be more proper."
I could tell by his look, it was a vague look, that he was thinking about some deep memories. And I could tell...he wanted this.
***
I walked close to Goliath as he strode comfortably into the eye care building. It was amazing how he could use only his four senses to guide him around, as if that was all the world consisted of. I suppose that was how he learned to live.
Mr. Haleye was waiting for us outside the lab doors. He was shaking nervously and muttered "Goliath, pleasure to finally meet you in person"
"Hmm" contemplated Goliath.
"I suggest you wait out here, Tom." said Mr. Haleye "The process should take at least four days."
'Days!" I exclaimed as Goliath confidently propelled himself into the lab "The cells take that long to regrow!"
"No, Goliath will be nocked out for three days to relieve the pain."
"Pain! Get him out of there!" I yelled with half a mind.
"Considering you were the one who worked on the project, I thought you would know more about the surgery required!" He said with superiority.
My faced blushed.
He continued, lecturing me on how I should stay calm and trust the facility for which I worked, then locked the doors after he entered the lab.
I stood like a child in front of the now closed doors. All I could do now was to wait.
The bus was extremely quiet without Goliath, not saying he made any noise, it was just vey discomforting. I had dreams each night about bagel sandwiches, I wonder what that meant. At work I would take my ipad near the laboratory doors and work there. It was all I could do to calm myself.
On the third night, I fell asleep waiting for news from the lab, for anyone to come out. And when I woke up on the third day, I found the lab doors wide open. I scrambled to my feet and rushed inside. My boss, Don Garshnup, was all who was in there.
"Don! Don!" I yelled "Where's Goliath!"
He turned to me with a clip board in his hands and said "We took him out the back early this morning...dropped him off at his house."
Something troubled me about Don, he wasn't smiling. He was really a cheery person.
Since I had not the slightest clue where Goliath lived, I went home, assuming he would be at the bus stop tomorrow.
He never showed up.
Nor did he show up the second day.
Or the third day.
Or fourth.
Or fifth.
I was worried about Goliath. The people at the lab told me that under law they could not give me Goliath"s address. I begged Don, even Mr. Haleye. Yet they would not give in.
To my surprise, Goliath, instead, came to me.
It was the middle of the night, about two weeks since I last saw Goliath, when I heard a pounding on my oaken door. Startled beyond my wits, I ran to the door, unhinged seven locks, and saw a down trodden man sobbing on my mat.
I immediately recognized him, by his gray sweat shirt, as none other that Goliath.
"Oh god." I mumbled, and led him into the house. He fell to my couch, covering his eyes with red hands. And it was a terrible sight to see, for he was still crying.
"What's wrong!" I yelled at him. "Goliath, listen to me!"
Before I knew so, he had fallen asleep on the couch. I covered him with a blanket and sat on the adjoining couch, reading Paradise Lost. My curiosity over came me and I removed his hands from his eyes...his eyelids were purple...that could not have been from the surgery. I was almost like...he had been socked in the eyes. Then it hit me, he had been attacking his very own eyes, probably out of anger. After a few moments I found the audacity to carefully lift his eyelids, he looked like he was sleeping hard enough....They were all black, everything. I should have known this, I designed the procedures after all.
I skipped work that day and did not call the office, they would have made problems worse, like bringing in their psychotic psychiatrists.
I had to handle this.
***
For all who saw us that morning at the bus stop, they would have thought we were going to set a bomb off, because we looked just as suspicious. Goliath was staggering, with his dark glasses on, while I tried to steady him.
"Okay, Goliath" I said "We are at the bus stop...OK? It's fine, you can look, things may seem much more different than in your imagination. Things seem more 'real'. I know. Just open your eyes, look through your glasses. Look at the people."
Goliath cracked his eyes open through the glasses and stared at all the people, as if they would jump at him. His eyes then caught the cars speeding across the road. He did not wince...he was mesmerized.
"Cars aren't quite what they say they are on TV." uttered Goliath.
I laughed "Afraid not, Goliath, afraid not."
After some minutes, the bus chugged around the corner and halted to a stop before Goliath's terrified eyes. The door steamed open and Goliath hesitantly boarded, sniffing the bus driver. After we sat in next to a window, Goliath mumbled "He smells just as bad as he looks."
I smiled.
"How about you take the glasses off" I said. He looked uneasy about it at first, but did it anyway. He refused to look out the window, though.
I sighed "Look, Goliath...you will never really know until you try."
He then glanced slightly to his left and shot straight out of his seat.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Goliath stammered as he plummeted into the aisle. I helped him up to his feet and told him to look out again.
His mind could hardly bear it...it was something beyond bewilderment.
His glassy black eyes took in the multitude of moving objects, gliding past his view.
When we returned to the bus stop, Goliath insisted on walking home alone. Though I was still worried about him, I said it would be fine. I went home and finally, politely called the office...well, it was more like a scream than a call. I yelled at anyone who was on the phone, eventually they transferred it to Mr. Haleye.
Unfortunately...I gave him a piece of my mind.
Goliath tried to kill himself that night.
At least I think he did, the evidence would certainly lead to that conclusion. He was unsuccessful, of course, I warrant he hardly knew how to do it...mentally, to be precise. I heard about it on the 12:00 AM news, because I could not sleep at such an ungodlike hour, as usual.
As fast as possible, I darted out of the house into the raining streets. I could not feel the marble sized hail cracking against my head. I was so unbearably worried for what was to be seen.
Automatically I ran to the bus stop, not because it was on the news, but because it was simple instinct. There were ambulances closing off the intersection next to the bus stop, and many EMT's throughout the whole scene.
There was also a semi truck, turned on it's side.
I stumbled into the situation, save for the patrolling officers attempting to stop my inevitable path.
On a stretcher on the ground, lay Goliath. He was breathing fast, but seemed unharmed.
"God...Goliath, what happened? How could this happen?" Tears soaked my eyes as I knelt next to him.
His eyes were closed as he said "I...I-I...I thought...I could get out...just get out."
"Goliath...why did you stand in front of the truck. It dodged you...you fell back and had a concussion...why did you stop?"
"I...saw a voice. I wanted to get out...I told it that the world was horrible, that there was nothing good to be seen."
"What did it say?"
"It said..." he smiled "that I wasn't looking in the right places."
His black rubies of eyes widened with glory. A tear trickled from them.
I couldn't say anything, the paramedics took him away on the stretcher and loaded him into the back of an ambulance and drove off.
I found out, days afterward, that Goliath was no longer in this country, nor any country. He was off on a ship, exploring the glorious seven seas,
looking for the right places.
A woman at the hospital told me of this news, saying, and I quote:
"That man has got some interestin' look on life. He's a real odd one too."
And that really sums up the life of the man known as Goliath.
That was the last I heard of him.
