Charley's Story

Charley’s Story

         The house was huge, practically a mansion, still, it bore a striking resemblance to the house he grew up in.  He was overwhelmed by the size.  There was no doorbell so he used the brass lion-head knocker.  The door was promptly answered by his father. 

         His dad was smiling, “Charley boy, welcome home!” 

         His mother heard what was going on, and pushed her way past his father and embraced him tightly.  With tears in her eyes she said “Oh Charley, welcome home, I’m so glad you’re finally here!” 

         Charley was stunned, “Oh Mom, Dad, I thought you had . . . uh . . .”

          “What?” His dad asked, “passed on, gone home . . . died?”

* * *

         Charley sat up in his bedroll, tears rolling down his cheeks, trying to catch his breath.  It was the same dream, night after night, he searched for meaning to it, but still it escaped him.  His parents had been dead for many years. 

         He felt the cold biting at his face.  He looked around the park and only his friends in their bedrolls were around. 

         He continued to sit there for several minutes slowly gathering himself back to his reality, back to alertness.  His heart was still beating hard and his head was pounding.  Finally, he got to his feet and rolled up his bedroll to begin his daily “rounds.” 

         Emma was still sleeping and was not easily awakened.  Mack was snoring.  Dog got up and snuggled in next to Charley.  The four of them shared a space at the back end of the park wedged in between a tall hedge in and a red-brick building.  They were a pseudo family of sorts.  The Cooper Building was an aging office building a few small businesses still occupied the building, a couple of lawyers and an adoption agency run by a group of Paralegals and supervised by the lawyers. 

         Fixing his bedroll to his knapsack, Charley made his way quickly around the swings, across the sandbox, through the ball field and over to the bathroom.  His face was chaffed by the cold as he walked.  The bank clock across the street indicated 6:45 a.m. and 43 degrees. 

         Feeling as if he was being watched he looked around and spotted Mellott, staring at him.  He moved quickly and picked up his pace to avoid him.  He did not want a confrontation this morning.  Mellott was a hard-case, a mentally disturbed addict and prone to violence. 

         Charley entered the bathroom, rinsed out the sink and began to brush his teeth.  He then washed his face with hot water.  He was out of cartridges for his razor so no shave again today.  Living outdoors was sure taking its toll on his skin.  At 45 he looked more like 60 and he had more grey hair every day. 

         He put his toothbrush and comb away and fixed his stocking cap on his head and walked out into the crisp morning air.  There was a light drizzle as he made his way down the street, his destination was the Waffle House. 

         As he passed the freeway exit by the overpass he thought back to the time when he lived in the bushes in the center of this exit, that was until the night a drunk driver lost control or his car, rolled over and wound up in those bushes missing Charley but not Big Mike.  Mike was completely crushed by the rolled over vehicle.  He missed Mike deeply, but this was the reality of life on the streets:  People come into your life and sometimes just disappear.  At other times they are ripped away from your life for one reason or another. 

         Charley was deeply affected by the loss of Mike.  Mike had been a type of mentor to Charley and had taught him how to survive on the streets.  He showed him that he didn’t have to beg, that he could actually make a living of a sort and survive the streets.  Mike had also pointed out how easily the streets could kill you if you didn’t have your wits about you.  Losing Mike had been a wake-up call for Charley. 

         It was after Mike’s funeral that Charley first met Pastor George.  Pastor George had spoke over Mike talked about his life, where he came from, who he was and said a prayer.  He didn’t pray for Mike, no he prayed that each person there would come to know Mike’s Lord. 

         Anyone who knew Mike knew about Jesus, he talked about Him freely.  He didn’t push him on anyone though, he just let them know where he stood, and where they stood, if they would listen.  Charley respected that.  But what Pastor George had said made a lot of sense.  Pastor George had taken Charley in to the Mission for a while, gave him a Bible, and led Charley to Jesus.  Now it was Charley’s “ministry” to look after Mack and Emma. 

         Finally arriving at the Waffle House he bent down and began to pick up trash.  He would pick up as much as he could carry and took it over the trash receptacle near the back door.  He then went over by the hose-reel and found the plastic left there for him.  He changed the bag in the trash receptacle and took the full bag to the dumpster.  Next he took the hose and washed down the sidewalks around and in front of the restaurant. 

         Just as he was finishing a big man in an apron came out of the kitchen, “Buenos dias Charley.”

          “Buenos dias Miguel!” Charley returned. 

          “What you want today, the usual?” 

          “Sure, that would be great, thanks.”

         Miguel smiled and disappeared back into the kitchen.  He returned several minutes later  with Charley’s breakfast, a scrambled egg with cheese and bacon wrapped up in a pancake, a cup of coffee and a small orange juice. 

          “Here you go, the most excellent breakfast sandwich in town!”

          “Thank you.”  Miguel turned and went back into the kitchen and Charley walked over to the bench the restaurant kept in the back near the dumpster.  Rosa, one of the servers was sitting there having a cigarette.  He sat down on the other side of the bench, bowed his head and gave thanks.  He always gave thanks for his food and he learned on the streets to be thankful when someone shows you any kindness at all, and especially when the kindness is from their heart. 

         The breakfast “sandwich” was so good, it was a real blessing.  The coffee was hot and black, not bitter but just right on a cold Dallas morning. 

         After tossing his coffee cup and cup from the orange juice in the trash, he turned to leave when he noticed a young couple coming out.  He wasn’t going to approach them, the lady made eye contact with him but quickly turned away.  The man reached in his wallet and pulled out two five dollar bills and offered them to Charley. 

          “Thank you, very much.” Charley smiled as he took the money, “God bless you!” 

         The man smiled back at Charley, “Please don’t buy alcohol with it,” he said. 

          “I don’t drink.” 

          “Uh, sure,” he looked away and joined his wife in the car. 

         Charley had been a drinker when he first hit the streets. Losing Big Mike had taught him a hard lesson that Mike had told him over and over again, that if you weren’t alert all the time the streets would do you in.  Some homeless people were mentally ill like Emma, others were just slow like Mack. Some street people had sold their souls to the streets, junkies, hookers and pimps; they were walking the street that led to slow suicide.  Some were just dangerous like Mellott. 

         A lot of people think of the homeless as aimless wanderers, just hanging out, trying to beg a buck for some beer or cheap wine and there are homeless people who are like that, but not all of them.  Some are just down and out, others need a leg up.  What Charley wanted most in the world was to get his life back together and get off of the streets but not until Mack and Emma were taken care of.  He needed to make sure he could take them with him. 

* * *

         Mack was chilled to his bones.  It was a cold morning.  He’d slept good last night.  He had a nice thick bedroll.  Dog had thankfully slept through most the night inside the bedroll with him.  Emma had snored off and on through the night and Charley talked in his sleep.  Mack heard some of this on some nights.

         Charley had been talking to his dead wife Amanda about getting his life back together and how things would be better real soon.  He cried a little as he spoke to her.  Mack could tell that Charley still deeply loved Amanda.

         Emma had wandered off at sunrise and Charley had left early to pick up trash at the Waffle House.  That left Mack and Dog to fend for themselves this morning. 

         Mack walked Dog across the play-area, past the swings to the water fountain.  There he took a small plastic bowl from an inside coat pocket and got some water for Dog.  Dog was very grateful to receive the water and wagged his tail as he lapped up the water to the last drop.

         He then began to walk out of the park and toward the bank when he spotted Officers Bradley and Collins riding their bicycles through the park.  He knew he wasn’t supposed to have Dog in the park and hoped the officers didn’t see him.  He had received several warnings in the past.

          “Mack, hold on a second.”  Officer Collins called out.

         Mack froze in his tracks.  He hoped they didn’t run him off. 

          “Good morning Officer Collins.”  Mack did his best to sound cheerful. 

          “Morning Mack.”  Officer Collins said.  “You should keep a close eye on your dog today, there’s been two more dogs found beaten to death in this area in the last week.  You do know where your dog is right now, don’t you?”

         Mack couldn’t believe his luck.  Dog was nuzzling up to the officer, wagging his tail.  “Yes Officer, I think I know right where he is.  I’ll be sure to keep him close today.”

          “Okay, and see that you keep him out of the park, you know he’s not allowed here, okay?”

          “Okay Officer, I will, and thank you, thank you so much.”

          “Stay safe Mack, I think these boys wouldn’t hesitate to beat a homeless person either.”

          “Thanks officer, I will stay close with Charley and Emma.”

         The officers left.  Mack was so thankful that they pretended to be blind to dog.  How lucky was that?

         Mack and Dog went to catch up to Charley over at the Waffle House.  Maybe he could get Miguel to give him and Dog some breakfast too.

         The two of them walked together for a block when Mack became aware that there were three boys following them.  By the time they reached the freeway overpass there were four more boys up ahead.  His heart was pounding, he looked to see if he could cross the street, but there was too much traffic.  He could see no way out of this confrontation. 

          “You got any money pop?”  One of the boys asked.

          “No, sorry, I don’t have any money.” 

          “Well, too bad for you pop, and too bad for your sorry looking dog.”

         One of the boys had a six-foot strip of garden hose and he brought it down across Dog’s back.

         Dog screamed out a yelp and tried to run as one of the boys kicked him down and another grabbed him by the tail. 

          “You sure you don’t have any money pop,” the boy with the hose snarled. 

          “I don’t have any money, please, please leave us alone,” Mack wailed. 

         Another boy kicked Dog as he tried to get away.  And another grabbed Mack as lunged forward trying to protect Dog. 

         The boys were laughing and making rude and obscene comments while torturing Dog.  They were drunk with excitement. 

          “NO, don’t do this. . .”  Mack sobbed, “Please, don’t, PLEASE . . . DON’T HURT HIM.”

          “Shut your mouth old man.”  One boy snarled as he punched Mack in the gut. 
Another boy kicked Dog in the ribs.  Dog was pleading with yelps and screams.  Mack had never heard an animal make such awful sounds.” 

          “NO, boys, no, don’t hurt him any more.”

         One of the boys backhanded Mack.  “I told you to SHUT UP.”  The boys holding him back tightened their hold on him. 

         After several minutes, Dog was on the ground, not moving and not breathing.

         The sound of a close police siren filled the air and the boys ran off in several directions. 

         As the boys released Mack and ran off, he fell to his knees next to Dog and carefully scooped him into his lap. 

          “No, Dog, No, you’re such a good boy.  Don’t leave me, okay?  You’re such a good boy.  Stay with me.  SOMEBODY, HELLLLPP!”

         Sobbing, Mack felt like his heart was being torn from his chest, “No Dog, no, don’t leave me.” 

          “Somebody!”  Mack wailed.

         Mack looked up just as Charley came under the overpass.  He saw Charley break into a dead run toward him and Dog.

* * *

         As he made his way back to the park Charley followed the same route walking under the freeway overpass.  There he spotted Mack on his knees, holding his dog on his lap, sobbing.  It was a horrible, mournful sound. 

         Charley rushed to his friend’s side, “What happened?” 

          “Some teenagers roughed Dog up real good, they hit him with sticks, kicked him, poured beer on him and kicked him some more, I don’t think he’s gonna make it Charley,” Mack sobbed, “Dog is family . . . what are we gonna do?”

         Charley sat down next to Mack, he reached out for Dog’s throat.  “No pulse, I’m so sorry Mack,” the words caught in Charley’s throat, “looks like dog has got him a new home, I’m sorry Mack, real sorry.”

         Mack let out another loud hard sob and hugged Dog more tightly. 

* * *

         Emma was about seventy-five feet away, on the opposite side of the street from Charley from Mack.  There he was again, the angel, a good looking man with long white hair wearing white flowing robes.  He put his hand on Dog’s shoulder, she had never seen such love on anyone’s face.  “Arise,” He said, “Let’s go home boy, you can wait for the others there.”

         Emma couldn’t believe it.  Dog actually got up and went with the Angel.  Dog seemed younger somehow and Emma couldn’t believe he had taken such a beating and still got up.  She didn’t understand what she had just witnessed, but she knew that this was the same angel she had seen all over this part of town.  It was why she stayed in this area.  The angel’s presence made her feel safe, well that together with the fact Charley and Mack still needed her.  The three of them and Dog were a family.  Mack looked so small and broken to her right now.  She thought about how much she would miss Dog, but she felt that he was going home to a better place as she watched Dog and the angel disappear. 

         Charley put his hand on Mack’s shoulder and knelt beside him.  They sat there together most of the morning.  Traffic passed, people walked by, Mack and Charley just sat there, being together with dog. Mack sobbed occasionally, Charley hugged Mack to comfort him. 

          “We gotta give Dog a proper grave.”  Mack was still crying off and on, “How about in the park, near our place?”

          “If we bury him there, somebody might notice and call the cops.”  Charley also felt very close to losing control of his emotions, but he wanted to be strong, help Mack through this, he would have time to grieve on his own, later. 

          “Then what can we do?” 

         Charley put his hand on Mack’s shoulder, with his face near Mack’s looking into his eyes he said, “Mack, Dog is gone, this . . . is only his body, he’s done with it.  He lives in here now.” Charley put his hand over Mack’s heart.  “We’re going to have to leave Dog here, maybe we can flag down a cop and have him picked up.”
“You’re right, but Dog deserves better.”

          “Yes, he deserves better.”

         Mack looked into Charley’s eyes and said “You’re a good friend, thanks for being here with me and Dog.”

          “You know Mack, sometimes we can make it on our own, and sometimes we need someone to help us through, and I’ll always be here for you.” 

         Charley and Mack continued down the street toward the park.  They walked quietly together, not speaking. 

* * *

         When they got there they walked across the park, Mack returned to their squat to grieve and Charley went to the bus stop on the other side. 

         Charley noticed a lady on the bench.  “Mind if I sit down,” he asked?

          “I certainly do mind, please, just leave me alone.” 

         Charley was taken back by her response, he would never get used to the hostility some people had toward the homeless, but he respected her wishes and stood several feet away as they waited for the bus.

         Soon a bus marked “Red Line – Mesa Verde” pulled up to the curb, Charley boarded after the lady. 

          “Morning Tom,” Charley said to the driver. 

          “Morning Charley, heading out to Word of Love again?”

          “You know me too well Tom.” 

          “You’re sweet on Miss Linda, that’s what I know.” 

          “No Tom, there’s no woman who would have a guy that’s on the streets, you know that.” 

“Well, all I know is I can always tell where I’m going by reading the signs, and Charley the signs tell me that you are sweet on that woman.” 

          “You’re a hopeless romantic Tom.” 

          “How right you are Charley, how right you are.” 

         Charley moved to the back of the bus and took a seat over the driver’s side wheel well.  He could see almost everyone on the bus from there. 

         Bus riding was an exercise in patience for Charley.  A lady and her baby and a three-year-old sat in the seat in front of him.  He kept hearing the three-year-old saying things about his old clothes, he didn’t shave and he smells funny.  Charley suppressed a little grin, young children were so blunt, and so honest about what they are thinking. 

         As the bus made its way down the road, Mack and Dog filled Charley’s thoughts, so Charley bowed his head and said a prayer for Mack, asking God to help him get through losing dog and asking God to take good care of dog. 

         The bus route deposited Charley about a 30 minute walk to the Church.  The Church maintenance man and gardener was Bill Hingle and he had recently had a heart attack and was unable to work.  As he walked to the Church Charley said a prayer for Bill asking God to strengthen him physically and help him grow spiritually during his recovery. 

* * *

         Charley arrived at Word of Love Community Church much later in the day than he usually did but he went right to work.  He started in the parking lot picking up papers and trash.  This was  Monday morning and the parking lot was very messy from the weekend.  When he finished with the parking lot Charley went to the Church office to check in with Miss Linda. 

          “Charley, good morning, how wonderful to see you.” 

          “Uh, thanks Miss Linda, its good to see you too” Charley offered his best smile.

          “Did you already pick up the parking lot?”

          “Sure did.” 

          “Good, could you please weed the lawn and the flower beds?”

          “You bet!”  Charley turned and went straight to the tool shed. 

         The Church had a shed well stocked with tools and Charley quickly found what he needed.  He went straight to work.  It was a good thing that Mr. Bill had left a big straw hat for him, the sun was particularly brutal today. 

         The yard work lasted the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon. 

         Miss Linda left the office and came out to the yard.  She had a shopping bag in her hand.  Charley figured she was either coming from or going to do some shopping.  He was busy cleaning up and putting the tools away. 

          “I’ve got something for you Charley. . .”

          “You got something for me?” 

          “Yes, I’ve got something here I know you’re gonna love.”  Miss Linda was all smiles as she handed Charley the bag.” 

         Charley was deeply touched.  He opened the bag and his eyes began to fill with tears.  It was a sturdy new pair of work boots, and maybe as many as a dozen pairs of thick new socks. 

          “Winter’s beginning to set in Charley, you’re gonna need these.” 

          “Miss Linda, you really shouldn’t . . . I mean, I can’t accept these. . .” 

          “Sure you can Charley.” 

          “You know, your Father loves you and I do too, and so does this Church.  Now come on into the fellowship hall, I’ve got a good hot lunch waiting for you, red beans and rice with corn bread.”

          “With jalapenos in the corn bread?”

          “Is there any other recipe?”

         Charley followed Miss Linda into the fellowship hall and on into the kitchen.

“No Charley, sit down, I will serve you.” 

         Charley was deeply moved by this woman’s Godliness.  She was going to serve him?  Today was certainly a day of tears for Charley. 

          “Charles Anderson Davis, you are always busy helping everybody else, it’s the least I can do.”

         Miss Linda reminded Charley of his mother when she used his full name like that. 

         Charley loved red beans and rice and he loved cornbread.  Again, he bowed his head and gave thanks.  He savored this lunch, eating it real slow and enjoying every bit of it. 

          “You know Miss Linda, I don’t know how I can ever thank you for the shoes and socks, its just. . .”

          “Oh, there’s nothing to say Charley, you have been giving of your time and labor to this Church for some time now, this gift is just a small token to say that we love and appreciate you.  Also, here’s a little something for your labors today.”

          “Absolutely not, no I can’t.”

          “Oh yes you can,” Linda stood up.

          “But this is too much.” 

          “No, its more than fair and you know it.  Besides we would pay a landscaper three times that for what you did today.” 

          “You have paid me three times that with the work boots and the socks.” 

          “Now, I don’t want to hear another word. Will we see you on Friday to mow the lawns before the weekend?” 

          “Linda, you can count on it.”

          “Good, cause I’ve been wanting to make a fried chicken dinner and a cherry pie.”

* * *

         Caught in late afternoon going home traffic, Charley arrived back at the park after dark.  The park was not always a safe place after dark, one had to keep their wits about them and stay alert.  It had been a long bus ride so Charley headed toward the restroom. 

* * *

         The instant Charley entered the restroom he was hit with a white-hot pain in his abdomen, doubling him over.  Then he saw him, it was Mellott.  Mellott was a junky and right now he didn’t look good.  Mellott was holding a baseball bat, and he was about to swing again.  This blow caught Charley in the upper back, knocking the wind out of him and driving him to the ground. 

         Charley heard the bat fall to the ground, now Mellott began kicking Charley, first in the ribs, one, two, three, up to four times.  Darkness was closing in on him.  Then a final kick in the head finished the job. 

* * *

         As his consciousness returned, Charley was aware of severe pain.  He felt he may be seriously injured, he felt chilled and light headed. 

         He laid there shivering for quite some time.  He could taste blood in the back of his throat.

         He tried to get up, but the pain was intense.  He heard footsteps, “damn,” he thought, “Mellott must be coming back.” 

         He tried to get to his feet, but dizziness and weakness kept him down. 

         He was relieved to see it was not Mellott.  “Help me, please, help me!” 

         The stranger rushed to his side, he had the appearance of another homeless man. 

          “Are you all right?  What happened?” the stranger asked. 

          “Some junky just beat the snot out of me,” Charley answered. 

          “Let me help you to your feet.”

          “I don’t think I can get to my feet just yet.”   

          “Uh, where are your shoes, it’s cold outside?”

          “My SHOES?  No! They’re gone.  They were brand new, they were a gift.” 

          “You know, I think I saw an old pair of shoes not far from here, hang on, I’ll be right back.”  The stranger went off in the direction he had come and returned a few minutes later with a pair of old black shoes.  “Well, at least they don’t have holes in them,” the stranger offered. 

         The stranger helped Charley put the shoes on. 

          “Thanks so much,” Charley said, “say, what do I call you?” 

          “Call me Gabe,” the stranger returned. “What’s your name?” 

          “My name is Charley Davis.”  Charley felt a wave of nausea sweep over him.

          “We need to get you to a hospital Charley Davis.” 

          “I don’t think I can make it to the hospital . . .” 

          “Looks like you were roughed up pretty bad.”

          “The guy that beat me up was a junky.  He’s probably been watching me and probably figured I had some money on me.” 

          “Charley, can I stay with you?  You really don’t look so good.” 

          “Gabe, to tell the truth I’m so weak and dizzy, I’m just not sure I’m going to make it.” 

         Gabe got up and brought Charley a cup of water and helped him sip it. 

          “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of these . . .” Charley quoted.

          “Ye have done it unto me.” Gabe finished for him. 

          “You know your Bible.”

          “Yes, I know the Bible well.”

         To Charley it was a tremendous effort, every movement was painful, his head ached, he felt nauseous and his ears were ringing.  It seemed like the least movement increased the pain. 

          “So he took your bedroll, and all of your things?” 

          “Yeah  he got it all my new shoes, my money, everything. ” Charley coughed up a little more blood.

          “That’s really a tough break Charley.” 

          “It’s happened before, just never been beaten quite this bad.”

         Charley didn’t know what to say.  The room was spinning so fast and he felt like he was falling.  The light was already bad in the bathroom, but it seemed to be getting dimmer.

          “Charley?” 

          “I’m still with you.” 

          “Are you a man of faith?” 

          “So strange you should ask the lady who gave me the new shoes once asked me that.”

         Charley felt as if something was pressing down hard on him, dizziness and nausea increased until he threw up. 

          “So what did you tell her?”

          “In spite of every stinking lousy thing life has thrown at me I have found and kept my faith.  Fact is I’m sure I couldn’t make it now without faith.” 

          “That’s good Charley, so you don’t blame God, for any of this?” 

          “God, no.  He didn’t put me on the streets.  That was the consequence of my own mistakes.  At a critical time in my life I chose depression over faith and it cost me everything.”

          “Then its your own fault then your life turned out like this?” 

          “It sure is.  God didn’t send my wake up call until I was on the streets and in a position where I had nowhere else to turn.  Pastor George at the mission is a good man straight as they come.  Really tells it like it is.”

          “So your faith helps you make it through each day?”

          “My faith helps me each and every hour of the day, minute by minute.” 

          “And you haven’t blamed God for any of this, not even the beating?” 

          “No the beating was a junky who needed a fast buck so he could get a fix.”

          “And your new shoes.”

          “Yes the shoes.  He must have just seen them and took them.  These shoes were probably his.”

         Nausea and dizziness were getting worse and Charley was finding it more difficult to talk.  He felt so cold.

          “You ever just want to give up?”

          “What do you mean?” 

          “You know give up and die?” 

          “Well,” Charley coughed up some more blood, “I’ve was suicidal once, right after my wife died.  Now, I’ve been plenty discouraged, but I have enough hope to get through each day.” 

          “Yeah, I heard that about you.” 

          “Really?  Who from?” 

“We have some of the same friends.” 

         Charley pondered this.  He had never seen this Gabe on the streets, not even once. 

          “Say Gabe, why are you here?” 

          “Why am I staying with you?” 

          “Yeah.” 

          “Well Charley, sometimes you can make it through on your own, and sometimes you need someone to help you through, know what I mean?”

         Charley and Gabe sat in silence for several minutes while Charley took this in. 

          “Yeah, I think I do,” Charley replied. “Gabe, I’m not going to make it, am I?” 

          “Charley, your injuries are pretty severe.” 

          “And you’re helping me through this.” 

          “Yes, Charley, I’m helping you through it.” 

         Charley became somewhat alarmed and yet strangely at peace, “Can you get some help?” 

          “I’m the help, I was . . . sent.” 

          “Gabe, you say?” 

         Gabe straightened and stood up, “Yes, Gabe.” 

         Charley looked more closely at Gabe. 

          “And you’re helping me through?” 

          “Yes.” 

          “Am I . . . going to . . . die?” 

          “All men die Charley.” 

          “Yes, all . . . men die.” 

         Charley felt the pressure on his body bear down hard on him as pain swept over him in a storm that seemed to last for a long moment, he closed his eyes and rested somewhere in the distance a thought came that maybe he had just passed out.

          “Charley, arise, you are beloved of God, and despite your circumstances you have done what good you can with what you had.” 

          “The Father loves me?” 

          “Yes Charley, very much, rest now, be at peace.  Let’s go home.”

         A smile brightened Charley’s face, he felt surrounded by pure love. 

* * *

         As the sun was rising over the park, Mack made his way toward the restrooms.  He was almost there when he saw Charley.  It was not the fact that he was laying on the grass that troubled Mack, it was the position he was laying in, face down and he was completely out in the open with no bedroll or anything.

         Mack ran over to Charley and gently pushed on his back, “Charley, time to get up!”  Mack repeated this two more times.  Then he remembered what Charley did and put his fingers to Charley’s neck, no pulse.  Mack, began to cry and hold Charley.  “You were a good friend, Charley, the best.  Looks like you got yourself a new home!”

The End