A Waste of a Life.

 

Life Is For Living. 

By Jane Scoggins

   Maggie hated turning a corner and seeing someone sitting on a bit of cardboard huddled on the pavement with a paper cup in front of them waiting for passers-by to drop in a bit of change. She never knew what to do. Look for her purse somewhere in the bottom of her bag, or having being caught on the back foot, escape her own embarrassment and hurry past pretending she hadn’t noticed. Today that encounter unexpectantly happened on a nice street she often walked along near the town centre en route from the car park. Having never seen anyone there before it came as a big surprise to see a young man. Seconds later a man reached down and handed him a ‘burger. He had a dog, a small rough-haired terrier who looked hopefully when he smelled the meaty treat. Smiling his thanks to the benefactor the young man broke the burger and the bun in one slow careful tear making sure the soft stringy slice of cheese was also torn in half. He gave one half to the dog. Touched by this scene it replaced Maggie’s sense of discomfort. But then, emotion shifted again as a young woman looked his way as she passed by and gives a smirks. Such a contrast between them. Her, tripping confidently along in new white Converse trainers, and a baggy pale blue off the shoulder mohair sweater that looks expensive. He sees her smirk and a flicker of something like pain passes fleetingly across his pale features. Almost simultaneously he sees Maggie and averts his eyes. Seeing her standing there probably made him even more aware of his poor appearance as she is a smart middle aged woman. He wears a worn lightweight jacket with frayed cuffs over a grey sweatshirt. His tracky bottoms are stained. One of his black trainers has a rip down the side. He is probably about the same age and build as her son Billy, but does not look like him. Billy is blond, blue-eyed, and handsome like his father.  Maggie thinks of that young woman and her smirk. My daughter would never behave so unkindly she thinks to herself. Bev with her kind heart and common sense approach to life is a credit to her father and me. Always the child who brought home stray cats, and took a child with a grazed knee in the playground to the teacher for a plaster. Billy on the other had, with his carefree nature never seemed to notice what went on around him.  He just loved life, had lots of friends all the way through school and lived life to the full. Maggie felt blessed to have two children who had never given her or her husband any real worries. Billy had wanted to go to university but he wasn’t getting the grades he needed because he didn't study enough. His Dad and her had tried to talk to him and make him see sense but instead, he decided to get a job when he left the sixth form. He was happy earning his own money and being independent. And give him credit, he had worked hard, taken all the breaks offered and now worked in the city, in a well-paid job, and was almost there with a deposit for his own flat. Always smiling he coped with the hard work and pressure in order to get ahead.

   Looking again at that young man on the street she suddenly felt only intolerance towards him. Lazy good for nothing, probably on drugs or drink. In contrast to Billy she reflected on their different lives. She knew she should feel at least some compassion, but she couldn't.  She could only imagine that he had brought it on himself. A vague sense of recognition prompted her to look at him again. She was uncertain at first but then was sure it was Mark, a boy who had been at school with her Billy. She remembered him as a bright boy who sometimes came home with him after school and always stayed for tea. And what an appetite. The boys would play computer games in Billy’s room until she called them down. She liked to hear them laughing together. A clever boy he had definitely gone away to university. Look at him now. Thrown it all away. What a waste of an education, and a future. A fit of frustrated anger made her turn and hurry away. She sat in a cafe and drank a cappuccino to get over the shock of seeing him. She wondered if he and Billy had stayed in touch after school, and how long Mark had been on the streets. She would ask Billy when they next spoke.

Maggie finished her shopping and drove home still thinking of Mark and glad he hadn’t recognised her. She would not have known what to say. She thought of Billy and his good job, nice clothes, and expensive car, and was proud of his efforts to make his way in the world and be successful.

   When her phone rang one afternoon Maggie was in two minds as whether to answer it. It was an unidentified number and she had had an unsolicited call recently purporting to be from her bank telling her she was in danger of having her bank account hacked by thieves if she did not press 2 immediately and speak to the call handler who would be able to prevent the scam. So she ignored the call. A message left on her voicemail alerted her to a request to call a hospital staff nurse. Maggie returned the call. The Staff Nurse explained that Billy was in hospital and they had found her number under MUM on his mobile. She gave some details and Maggie confirmed she would contact her husband and they would drive the thirty miles to the London hospital straight away. John drove to London with Maggie by his side in the passenger seat, both feeling anxious. They were minutes too late. In the time it had taken to drive to the hospital Billy had died from an overdose of cocaine. Imprinted on Maggie's mind forever would be his pale face, remnants of a white crustiness around his lips, and the stains and smell of vomit on his expensive silk shirt.

   Six months later Maggie and John continued to feel the impact of Billy’s sudden and shocking death. They were horrified to discover that their beloved son had been a regular user of Cocaine, and had spent most of his savings to fuel his addiction and lifestyle. Maggie could not comprehend how a boy from a loving home and with a promising future could have turned to drugs and become an addict. This happened to other people’s sons and daughters. She thought of Mark and his situation on the street and again the memory of seeing him, and wondered if that was to be a waste of his life too. She wondered if his parents knew. She avoided the street she had last seen him. She could not face the burden of seeing more sadness or hopelessness. But one day she thought she saw him waiting at a bus stop in a different area of town. As she approached on the pavement he looked at her. Realising he recognised her and was about to greet her, she could not avoid him. This time however he was neat and tidy with decent clothes.

  ‘Hi Mrs Grant, remember me, Mark?  It's been a long time, although I did actually see you a few months ago and think you recognised me but just didn't want to speak to me because of the way I looked, and you know, on the street. I had all sorts of things happen when I was at Uni and dropped out.  I suffered from depression and ended up on the streets. But I am back on track now and have a job and somewhere to live. Life is good again. Glad I’ve seen you so you don't think I am some sort of wino or something like that. I used to love coming to your house after school and eating your amazing dinners. My mum was hopeless. I was always starving and you never minded me having seconds. Such good memories. Oh, here comes my bus. How is Billy and his city job? Would love to hear from him. Send him my best won’t you?’

  Before Maggie had time to respond, Mark had hopped onto the bus and was gone.

 

                                                                                                        Copyright Jane Scoggins