The Theory of Moving On

A light at the end of your wits

HANNA

Hanna’s heart skipped a bit as she looked at the thing in the middle of the road. At first, she thought it was a log, or a snake. At 20 meters, she realized it was a person.

She stopped five meters from the body. I hope it’s not dead, she shuddered at the thought.

The thing, or person moved. It lifted its head and looked at her.

“What?” the person shouted. “Run me over now!”

She realized her mouth was hanging open. She closed it hurriedly. “Hey, mister! Move over!”

The man looked at her with bleary eyes. Holy mother, she said to herself, this guy is stoned.

“What are you waiting for?” the man shouted again. “I said finish me now!”

The man laid down again, his hands folded against his chest. Hanna honked the car horn twice, but the man only ignored her.

“Mister, if you want to die, do it yourself,” Hanna shouted back. “I don’t want to be responsible for your death.”

“I can’t kill myself. Help me,” the man replied. “You can tell the police you had my permission.”

What a loser, she thought. Hanna scratched her head. She was late and she needed to be home in 30 minutes. It was almost two o’ clock in the morning.

She was in a dilemma. Should she run him over? That’s against her conscience. She certainly couldn’t do it, no matter how desperate she is to go home. She tried to maneuver the car around the man, but the man felt it and he moved to place his body against the tires.

“Are you so desperate??” Hanna backed the car and went the way she came. She knew another street, anyway. That guy is really stoned, she thought.

Then, for no reason at all, she felt worried for the man. He wanted to die. Why?

Well, that’s none of my business, she said to herself. But she couldn’t help worrying. She decided to go to the nearest police outpost.

After a few minutes, the police were loading the man in the police car. The man was not stoned; he was drunk. He obviously fell asleep in the middle of the street. He kept mumbling the name Annie over and over again.

“Do you know this man, Hanna?” the police officer asked. He knew her because she usually went to this street for her projects.

“Uh, no,” she replied truthfully. The man did not look like an addict. His clothes were pristine, although his phone and wallet were missing. There was no way to identify him.

“He’ll probably wake up soon,” one of the police officers remarked. “We’ll ask him then.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow to check on him,” Hanna decided suddenly. “I put him here anyway.” She guessed she was responsible for this guy who wanted to die.

“Are you sure?” Officer Fernandez asked. “Don’t worry Hanna, he might just be one of those drunks.”

Doesn’t look like that to me, she said to herself as she left the station.

JOHNNY

Johnny could smell garlic fried rice and dried fish, and brewed coffee. He felt hungry and nauseous at the same time. His eyelids felt so heavy and his neck hurt a little. He realized he slept while sitting.

A loud banging made him cringe. He opened his eyes and realized he couldn’t move his neck.

“Hey, kid,” a voice said. “Wake up!”

He held his chin and moved his head. His neck was stiff from sleeping with his head askew.

When he saw the bars, Johnny’s eyes widened. “Wha---?”

“A lady brought you here, kid,” the voice belonged to an officer. He was holding a cup of coffee in one hand. “You’re lucky she didn’t run you over and brought you here instead.”

His head was spinning. He was in jail. How did he end up in jail? Then, he remembered.

“Oh, she’s here,” the officer said.

The lady was peering at him curiously. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a white shirt. She looked like a college student.

“Sir,” Johnny mumbled. The officer looked at him. “Can I…Can I have something to drink?”

An officer gave him a glass of water and a bucket and mop. He looked at the man questioningly. The officer pointed to a dried puddle of what looked like a vomit. “Clean it up first.”

After cleaning up and a cup of coffee (he refused the breakfast), the officer on duty recorded his name, age and address. He was feeling stupid and scared at the same time. First, he was at a police station. Second, he lost his phone and wallet and there was no way he could contact his relatives.

“I could take you home, if you like,” the lady said. He looked at her from head to foot.

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“You don’t have money,” the lady replied. “Besides, I brought you here so…”

Johnny was silent. He wasn’t being rude. He felt embarrassed for his scruffy appearance and his smell.

“You were drunk last night,” the lady was still looking at him. “You wanted me to run you over.”

Johnny was still silent.

“Well?” Will this lady never shut up, he thought to himself. He looked at her briefly and walked outside. He was thinking of hailing a taxi when he realized he had no money. He turned to look at the lady. She was smiling. “My car is parked that way,” she said.

They were silent as they rode together. Then, the lady started to talk again.

“Why were you drunk last night?”

Johnny sighed inwardly. “Because I drank a lot.”

“Why did you drink a lot?”

“That’s…none of your business.”

The lady looked at her sharply. “That’s not a very polite reply,” she said sternly. “You wanted me to kill you last night. I was late because of you. Why?”

Johnny seethed in anger. “Pull over,” he said sternly.

“What?”

“I said, pull over,” he clenched his jaw. At the back of his mind, he was wondering why he felt so angry at the lady.

“But,” the lady parked at the edge of the road. “This isn’t where you live, right?”

“Like I said, none of your business,” he said curtly. “And next time, when you can’t run over a person, just go the other way and leave.” He slammed the door and walked away.

It was past noon when he finally got to his aunt’s house. He thought of going directly to work, but he decided to take a shower first.

Her aunt was crying when she saw her. “Where have you been?” she demanded while examining his face. “We were so worried about you.” His uncle told him that they went looking for him when he didn’t come home. They were planning to file a missing person’s report when he appeared.

Johnny felt ashamed. He realized how much trouble he was causing in his life because of Annie. Later that afternoon, his aunt refused to let him out of the house. “You need to rest,” his aunt said. “You can take one week’s break.” He decided not to refuse her. Aunt Remy was clearly upset. He obeyed her just to make her feel better.

He went over the things he went through over the past five months after Annie dumped him. So far, he had managed to embarrass himself in a bar while being drunk, he made his relatives worried because he was drunk and he failed to come home, he almost got killed because he was drunk and he acted rude and ungrateful to a kind lady – all because of Annie who no longer cared about him. For the first time, his eyes teared up not because of Annie but because of shame.

He thought of the kind lady who brought him to the police station. If she didn’t bring him there, who knows what would have happened to him. He might have even been dead, and he hadn’t even asked her name nor thanked her properly.

He got up from bed and stared at his hands. Now that he lost his phone, he had no means of contacting Annie, or “checking up” on her in f*******:. He also lost his wallet. He remembered having money in there, plus his ID, Annie’s picture and some receipts. Johnny couldn’t even feel anguished or worried about the lost wallet. He felt ashamed of how he had been behaving.

And so he thought, it’s time to move on. For real.

It’s been a week but Hazel still fumes when she remembers the insolent, unthankful guy she helped. Good thing she got his name, but she couldn’t find him in f*******:. What kind of person doesn’t have f*******:? Or maybe, he was really just a homeless drunk.

A homeless drunk that got an address. She glimpsed the police record of the guy she brought to the station, but although she was dying of curiosity, she couldn’t just go to the guy’s home address and inquire. She had done her civic duty. It ends there, especially to a drunk-probably-homeless-rude guy.

The guard on duty smiled and bid her a pleasant day as he opened the door for her. She had just finished a sumptuous lunch in her favorite restaurant. She even had a take-out for dinner. She was heading towards her car when she stopped suddenly. A man was peering at her car window.

Hazel stepped towards the parking lot carefully, her eyes widening. The car’s sideview mirror was missing.

“How dare you!” she swung the bag of food at the man. He turned to face him. Hazel couldn’t believe her eyes. It was the rude, homeless drunk. “You! What did you do to my car??”

“Wait, Miss, let me explain,” the man lifted both of his hands. She grabbed his right hand and twisted his arm. The man cried in pain.

“So!” Hazel thundered. “I was right. You are ill-mannered and a thief. I’m going to bring you back to that police station and let them beat you to death.”

“Miss,” the man said. “I just saved your car from being --- ”

Hazel put pressure on the man’s arm. His words turned into a cry of pain. “Uh, so you are willing to betray your accomplice. Just so you wait --- ”

“Hey! Put your cameras away,” the man covered his face as he said this. Hazel saw two or three passers-by filming them. She let go of the man’s arm, and turned her face away from them.

“Look, miss,” the man explained while nursing his arm. “This is a misunderstanding. The real thief got away.”

“Hah!

“I am so sorry,” Hazel felt remorseful. They were at a police station. She didn’t want to bring him here but the man needed to give a statement for the police report. He was the only eyewitness.

She insisted to drive him home. Just as during the first time, they were both silent. Hazel kept on glancing at her passenger. She was bursting with a thousand questions, but she was afraid to offend the man again. Finally, she couldn’t contain any longer.

“Why don’t you have a f*******: account?” she asked.

The man, with his forehead in wrinkles (perpetually, she presumed), slowly turned to look at her. “What is this question?”

“I tried to look you up in f*******:. I got your name from the police station,” she smiled apologetically. “I found several people with the same name as yours, but none of them are you. You have privacy settings?”

He was still silent. Eyes on the road, right arm on the rest, like a proper passenger.

“You’re posture in sitting reminds me of my dog Cal,” she said suddenly. “He sits like that.”

The man turned to her sharply. “I don’t know if you’re really curious or if you are just intentionally trying to annoy me.”

Hazel told herself to shut up. But then… “Or maybe, you don’t use your real name in f*******:?”

“Just shut up and drive,” the man answered.

“You’re in my car, but you’re mighty rude.”

“You offered to drive me home.”

Hazel chose to be silent at that. It is pointless to make conversation with this man, she thought. She observed him silently. He had the look of someone who grew up in hard work. He had an angular face, broad shoulders and brown skin. She instantly knew that he came from the province.

“I’m sorry,” she heard the man say. Despite of herself, Hazel smiled and turned to him. “I’m Johnny, by the way,” the man said.

Hazel turned to him curiously. “So that’s why I can’t find you in Facebook.”

“What do you mean?” Jhonny asked.

“Your name is Rosendo Teves Jr.” Hazel replied. “And I can’t find you there because you don’t use your real name.” She saw the man blush. She thought she looked cute, and ridiculous at the same time.

“Would you use that name if it were you?” Johnny asked. “It’s an old man’s name.

“It’s a borrowed name,” Hazel said as she parked the car to the edge of the road. They were at the subdivision gate where Johnny lived. “But it’s your name, nonetheless.”

“Thank you,” Johnny said and looked at her. “And I apologize, by the way. But you are really talkative.”

She laughed at that. “What can I say? And it’s Hazel. I live in ---“

“Yup, thank you, not interested. Bye!” Johnny said hastily as he stepped out of the car. He waved at her as the car rolled away. He couldn’t explain, but the little lady kinda scare him.