Moonie's Not So Secret Diary

A guy named Joe.

I was just reading about a young man (possibly 30 years old at most) who basically lived in bus stops in a neighboring town. I often visited this city to do shopping.

I saw him there month after month and day after day, just sitting there doing nothing. He was either across the street in that stop by the Urgent Care, or on the same side as me at the other bus stop. My car wasn't working so walking or taking the bus was my way of getting around.

It didn't matter how hot or cold it was, he was there. Every time I saw him he was alone, but had a cart of what I guessed was his belongings. I never saw him drunk or disorderly. He wasn't dirty looking either. This was somebody's son, brother, or cousin. I simply couldn't do nothing.

One day I finally asked him if he needed anything. He shook his head. "No."

I asked a second time anyway, thinking he might say, "Okay, yes."

Instead again he said "No".

Then I let it go, thinking that he had his right to his privacy.

What I had hoped to do was find out why he was staying in bus stops, and what brought him to that point. I would hate myself if I pretended to not notice.

At the same time, I wondered how safe it was to talk to him. Some people tend to get defensive if you ask questions and think you're being nosy or possibly trying to cause trouble.

I'll never get to find out now because the police had come and found him there and had corded off the area.

Earlier today is when someone had posted in a online city site, that a man had passed on, in or behind the bus stop.

What's ironic is that this was on a busy main street, and very close to an Urgent Care. Why hadn't anyone helped him? Where was his family? Why was he always alone? I hadn't even known his name, which I had recently found out it was Joe.

In hindsight, I think he might have been that same young man I had noticed at the community center many months before this event. I had just eaten lunch and was in the reading room. He was the only other person in there besides me. He didn't look at me.
He didn't seem familiar to me, maybe because he wasn't wearing a covid mask. But I did look at him this time because he seemed very thin. And for some reason I wondered if he was homeless and why. Did he leave home because he was abused or had his relatives pass on already? Maybe he lost his job or maybe he had some kind of disability that wasn't obvious.

I couldn't outright ask him about his life situation. I decided to hand him a small unopened carton of milk I had with me. He took it, then I dug through my purse and drew out a ten dollar bill. It wasn't much, but maybe he could use it, if he accepted.

Instead of asking, I merely handed it to him. He looked up at me, as if puzzled. I gave him a faint smile, hoping he understood that it was a gift. "It's for you to use as you wish."

He looked almost cheerful and said, "Thank you".

I had another appointment so I bid him goodbye. "You're welcome. I have to go now. Have a good day."

"Thanks again."

It wasn't much and might not go far, but there was nothing else I could offer.

Yet, even so, a hint of guilt hit me. I felt bad that whatever was going on with him, I couldn't do anything about it. And if I had asked, it might have embarrassed him.

I'm sorry Joe. Maybe I should have tried harder.

Rest in Peace my young friend, wherever you are. I'll assume you're with the angels.