The Random Lesson

Writing Prompt- "You have some advice to give to someone.  Who gets it and what do you say?"

I never knew that I knew a thing about the world until I met someone who managed to be even more naive than me. I thought I was always the fool that everyone shook their heads at, wondering where the experiment went wrong, not knowing that I wasn’t an experiment. Maybe it’s because I’m thirty in a world where you were supposed to have a stable job by nineteen, and I have no job, or house, or money, or anything at all. I have me, and the rags I call clothes. I guess I still am that fool. But at least now I know that the people walking past me everyday are no different than me, some mentally worse off, if not physically.

He was probably at least half my age, but with a concentrated level of stupidity. I could smell it from down the street. And so when he saunters by in a blue cotton shirt and tan jeans with a new haircut, I laugh. I chuckle, I laugh, I might have even cackled. Either way he stops. He turns. Looks right at me, unafraid of what the crumpled heap on the sidewalk thinks. His eyes are brown, his hair is so black it shines blue, and he’s real tall. Tall enough so that his shadow is casted on me. So I stand up, and end up towering over him. The arrogant sparkle in his eyes dim ever so slightly, but not enough. So I laugh again. I chuckle, I laugh, and I know this time I cackle. He takes a step forward; now he’s in my shadow.

“You laughing at something, old man?” He says it like he wants it to hurt, like I don’t already know I’m laughing at something and that I’m an old man. He’s more ignorant than I thought if he doesn’t think I know that.

Instead of replying to his question, I say “That’s a new haircut isn’t it?” I glance down. “Shiny shoes you got there, too. Say, your Mama pay for that, or you got your own money?”

“Gonna try and steal ‘em? Not a chance, I’ll beat the shit outta you if you even look at ‘em for too long.” He squints his eyes, as if the narrowing of of his irises and pupils is frightening to me.

I grunt, smiling at the same time. “Didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine.” He runs a hand through his new haircut, his eyes still squinted.

“Fair enough.” I look at him for a long time before continuing. I don’t think he knows if he should stay or just walk away, like everyone else does. But for some reason, he waits. “I was laughing at the vibe of naivety your presence emanates.”

Maybe he didn’t know what the words I said meant, or secretly agreed, but he doesn’t blow up in anger and yell obscenities in my face, or even show that he’s upset. He quietly takes a step back.

“What’s your name?” I ask. He contemplates for a second.

“Lawrence. Lawrence Oats.” He holds out a hand to shake. For a moment I do nothing, surprised by the implication of human interaction. But quickly I take his hand, and shake, smiling inwardly.

“Good morning, Lawrence Lawrence Oats.” He squints his eyes again. “Word of wisdom Lawrence Lawrence; squinting has no effect except to make you look like you have a seeing problem. You look idiotic, so stop that whole nonsense. Now, your Mama buy you those shoes?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

I shake my head vigorously, unhappy with his answer. “Yes or no Lawrence Lawrence, otherwise you seem ungrateful. You grateful to your Mama for buying those shiny shoes for you?”

Lawrence nods. “Yes I am, sir.”

“Well you should be, it seems she’s raised you fine. Don’t be making a mess of that model she’s built for you, I can smell your incoming failure if you forget her kindness.” He nods. “You heading to her now?” He bites his lip, a telltale sign. “Where you going then?” I raise a skeptical eyebrow.

“Just to hang out with my friends, no worries. I’m not killing a cop or nothing like that, so don’t look at me like that.”

I squint my eyes, and want to laugh about it, but I don’t. “You may not be killing a cop, but I think I can guess what you are doing. Get your ass back home, how dare you lie to my face like that. You know nothing, why would I expect you to be grateful to your Mama. I bet she knows where you’re heading, and she wants to cry an awful lot. But she ain’t gonna do that, because she’s stronger than that, and still has hope that you ain’t gonna ruin your future by hanging with friends, smoking whenever you can. Now get your ass back to your Mama, I know she’ll be proud if you do.”

He blinks. For a minute or so, he just stands there, not saying anything, or doing anything, or breathing. But after a minute or two, he lets out a breath.

“Have a nice day, sir.” He turns around, and walks back in the direction he came from, where I know his Mama waits for him. I smile, and sit back down, wishing I could have a parent’s love still. But they’re long gone, and so I don’t think about it for too long. But I know my own Mama is applauding me from her throne in Heaven, so I smile again and continue watching people walk by in the bright morning.