A Message for the Damned

"Your soul is doomed. The world is damned. We cannot save it. We can only save ourselves. Repent now," boomed the voice attached to the creature gripping Penny's arm. His grip had gotten tighter with each syllable in his message. She had actually winced at the sound.

"Let go of me," she said pulling her arm away from his clutches. This wass what she did not like about the city. One was never completely free to travel its sidewalks without being apprehended by some maniac, some person looking for a handout, or the inevitable lost tourist. The preaching sort, such as this one, all seemed to be made of the same mold. Perhaps there is truth in stereotypes she mused, not really panicked or frightened, but just wanting to stay on track with her reconciliation task with Joan.

The man stepped in front of her now, blocking her entrance into the safety of her car.

"Even as you get into your pollution maker, you are damning yourself. Toxic chemicals will enter your body and death becomes inevitable," he said earnestly with this yellowed eyes, of which dirty, thinning, long hair hung. Then Penny realized she was not intimidated by the encounter, as she once would have been. This dirty, older urchin of the street was tiny, quite a bit shorter than she. Luckily, he did not carry an odor of unmentionable horror. There was just a tiny aroma of sweat and no bad breath. In fact, now that she looked, he seemed rather clean. Not too many, if any, nights had been spent sleeping on the city streets.

"Well, damned I am then. I shall be even more damned if I do not get in my car and go now," Penny told him, understand that ignoring his efforts would only delay her more. Normally she would turn on her heels and walk towards her building and wait out this personal storm, but today, the idea incensed her. She had a right to walk from Point A to Point B and go where she needed without the hassle of communication. With these thoughts came a small jolt of adrenaline or irritation.

"Excuse me, I am late," deliberation of task shown through the tone of her words, authoritarian and decisive. As they were spoken, she moved around the source of irritation, put the keys into the lock of the car and began to open the door. Apparently subconsciously she had been fingering the keys to find the right one for just such a moment of opportunity as this.

But the preacher was not so forthcoming with his moment of opportunity to leave her alone. Though there was now no way he could block her, his hand reached for the door, unaware that he might get his fingers smashed when she slammed the door shut. It never occurred to him that her own inner processes would not yield to his words. Here was a lost soul he could save, or so he told himself.

With his other hand, he thrust a pamphlet at her, "Save yourself sinner, the time has come to repent."

Penny actually took the pamphlet, again, hoping this would end this unexpected, unwanted menage. For a moment she looked at the words on the piece of paper, hating that with the onset of personal computers people could now publish their own literature. It would not have been so bad, but most people had absolutely no design instinct. They went for too many type faces (more is better after all)and different sized one's at that, thus making their message chaotic and unreadable. But in her quick summation of the pamphlet, she did notice it was actually an add for a lecture and book release. She squinted at the piece of paper and noticed it was to be at a book store not too far away from this address. As her eyes roamed the page, the annoyance had become silent and had removed his hand from the door, apparently in shock that someone was actually reading his pamphlet. Penny became aware of this, and without lifting her gaze, she quickly slide into the driver's seat and shut the door. Even quicker, she locked the door and prepared to start her ignition.

He stood on the curb looking both puzzled and dejected. Penny actually found herself feeling bad for him for a moment. Had he never been rejected before or dealt with in this manner?

Without realizing she was rolling her window down, as it opened she asked him, "You were hired by the bookstore or author to spread his 'good word,' weren't you?"

He looked stunned and brushed the scraggly hair out of his eyes. As he did this, he suddenly looked much younger, his eyes that she thought were yellow, were actually a very clear green. Penny was struck dumb with her next thought, he was actually beautiful. Innocent.

He took a deep breath, "Yeah. They hired me. How did you know?"

A laugh erupted within her, "Your fervent tone was a good approach, though grabbing my arm was a little over the top. Really street preachers probably know not to touch people. It can get them in trouble. Now I suppose if they were hungry enough and wanted a place to rest they might do such a thing to enjoy the benefits of being hauled to jail for a short time. And you are too clean. Wearing yesterday's clothes is not enough to pull off the stench of living out here."

He actually grinned back, "Hey thanks. I will keep it in mind." And with that, he turned back to the sidewalk and to others who were traveling upon it. As Penny rolled up her window, she watched as he gave out the pamphlets, no speech, no fake insanity, just a smile. As she pulled out from the parking spot, she looked back at him for a moment, and caught his wink.