Clifton
was down on his luck when he made the decision to jump inside a moving
boxcar in Portland, OR. Actually it was two things: the state of being
down on his luck, but also the gritty, raw, industrial beauty of the
freight train itself, which seemed to him something like an Edward
Hopper painting come to life, or maybe a Woody Guthrie song turned into a
machine. In any case there was something in the power and squeak of
that train that moved Clifton to heave himself into the open side door
of a yellow wooden car with bales of hay stacked neatly along the sides.
It was an archetypal boxcar for a career 21st century hobo.
Yes,
Clifton was a career hobo, but one with a credit card leftover from a
previous life, a card linked to an account with just enough funds to
survive at the most rudimentary level. By his calculations he had enough
savings to cover two cups of coffee a day for twenty-seven years. Since
coffee was the main staple of his diet, the problem of food was more or
less solved.
Another
piece of his decision was the memory of a particular intersection in
Salinas, CA. It was a busy intersection, and strangely mesmerizing to
stare at - a lot like gazing at a stream or a river. He remembered that
by staring at the flow of traffic there, everything else in the world
was put in perspective, because everything else in the world was at some
level linked to the flow of that traffic. It was very Zen. He made a
mental note: if all else fails, there was always the intersection.
It
reminded him of another intersection in Phoenix, AZ, but the Salinas
one was better - not nearly as big, but just big enough to convey the
force of the flow of life itself.
He
was steeped in these thoughts when a voice came out of the hay bales, a
fellow hobo. "Smile man, smile! We're going places. Don't look so
fucking grim."
***********************************************
It
was true, Clifton was outwardly humorless, and he had a mouth that was
inclined to remain shut. It wasn't that he didn't have joy or smiles in
his heart, but rather that his mouth was constructed in such a way that
smiling didn't come naturally. He had good features but often looked
disturbed. As a hobo he felt that he had the right to look disturbed. He
wasn't running for public office and he wasn't a matinee idol, so why
the hell should he smile? Even so, it weighed on him at times that his
demeanor might have an adverse effect on his fellow humans, and this
thought made him even more humorless.
***********************************************
As
the train was passing through Salinas the next day he heaved himself
out of the boxcar. He landed face down in the dirt and actually liked
the feeling: the sting of impact made him feel alive.
As
he walked north on Main Street he could see the tall eucalyptus trees
in the distance, the ones next to the rodeo grounds - more or less his
destination. Once he got past the gas stations and bail bonds stores, he
could smell the eucalyptus trees, and this sensation filled him with
something resembling happiness.
Just
beyond the trees and the rodeo grounds was a shopping center right at
the busy intersection. Like a pilgrim arriving in Mecca, Clifton reached
his destination: a concrete curb on the side of a 99-cent store that,
when sitting on it, looked directly out onto the intersection. It was
still there, exactly as he had left it. It was still vacant. No one
except him seemed to know about this perch or its special power. Clearly
the Universe had been reserving it for him.
Clifton
perched and Clifton stared. There were trees, concrete, and a few empty
shopping carts. There was a steady flow of traffic. It was
transcendent.
***********************************************
Across
the street was a Starbucks. Every day, twice a day, Clifton walked over
to get a coffee. He always got a plain coffee with lots of cream. Never
sugar - sugar was a distraction from the serious business of staring at
traffic.
He drank his
coffee with incredible, heroic slowness. He would take a small sip and
let the bitter fluid linger on his tongue, all the while staring at the
cars and trucks as they barreled through the intersection or waited at
the light. Clear skies or gray, this is how he passed his days, car
after car, coffee after coffee.
***********************************************
One
day he was surprised to see the same hobo he shared the boxcar with.
The hobo walked by and said "You man, YOU again? Don't you ever smile?"
After which the hobo lit a cigarette and walked away.
It
was a pleasant, sunny day and after the hobo walked away Clifton saw a
newspaper flapping in the wind nearby, and with each flap he saw an
advertisement with the words "Let Us Help You With Your Smile". This
piqued his curiosity so he picked the paper up.
It
was an ad for a local dentist, a Doctor Tran, and as Clifton looked
closer at the ad he saw the address and realized that it was right
across the street. In fact, it was right near the Starbucks that he
walked to twice a day.
He tore the ad out of the paper and decided to check the place out after he got his afternoon coffee.
***********************************************
The
coffee and the service there were consistently decent. He remembered
once passing through the San Jose bus station where the service had been
excellent but the coffee weak and undrinkable. Then there were other
places where the service was atrociously bad but the coffee surprisingly
good. Such is life.
Instead
of returning to his perch, he had his coffee at the shop, so as to
visit the dentist afterwards. It was warm and sunny that day, so he sat
on the patio.
Afterwards,
Clifton entered the dentist's office and was greeted by a receptionist.
"Hello" he said, holding up the ad from the newspaper. "I need help
with my smile".
"Please have a seat" the receptionist replied. "Dr. Tran will be with you shortly".
Clifton
sat down and picked up a copy of Sunset magazine, gazing at the photos
to the sound of the electric waterfall display, flanked on either side
by philodendrons. Were they real or artificial philodendrons, he
wondered. Before he had time to check, a voice addressed him.
"How
do you do?" It was Dr. Tran. "Please, follow me", he said with a strong
Vietnamese accent. The doctor had a lean build and a very kind face, a
face that looked as though it might burst out laughing at any moment.
His lighthearted demeanor immediately put Clifton at ease.
"Sit
down, sit down" Dr. Tran said when they entered his office. "Let me
see. You have good features, just no smile." He examined Clifton's
facial muscles with his hands. "Try, if you can, to stretch these
muscles" he said, placing a finger on either side of Clifton's mouth.
"Try to pull these muscles back".
As
Clifton did his best to pull the muscles back, the doctor slipped out
for what must have been at least three minutes. When he returned, he was
wearing a yellow clown suit. He was also holding four oranges.
"Ok
let's give this a try" the doctor said as he attempted to juggle the
four oranges. It didn't take long for one of them to fly out of control
and knock over a container of dental tools, which spilled off the
counter and onto the floor.
"Oh,
aren't I a clumsy clown" said the doctor, as he kept on trying to
juggle the oranges with comic ineptness. One landed in the sink, while
another burst open on the floor. Clifton noticed a smirk involuntarily
growing on his face.
The
doctor slipped out again for about three minutes, and this time he
returned wearing a full-body bird costume. It was completely over the
top with oversized feathers and plumes that may have belonged to a
peacock. The doctor starting swaying, shaking maracas and singing "I am
Chiquita banana and I'm back to say-ay... I am the TOP banana..." He
then added, in a mock Groucho Marx accent, "What's the matter, don't you
like my Carmen Miranda imitation??" And with feigned anger he pushed
more dental instruments off the counter onto the floor. Then he opened
the cabinets and began throwing latex gloves and cotton balls into the
air.
At this point
Clifton couldn't take it any longer. He burst out laughing with the
largest, most involuntary burst of laughter he had experienced in years.
And he kept on laughing so hard that his eyes started watering. He
laughed for what seemed to be an eternity, and he laughed so hard that
it started to hurt.
"Thanks doc" said Clifton as he finally stood up and patted Dr. Tran's back feathers. "I needed that".
"Ah, I see you smiling!" beamed the doctor. "You are a good patient. Come back any time."
"Thanks doc" Clifton said again as he strolled out of the office.
In this way, Clifton was able to return to his perch and gaze at traffic with a slight smile on his face.
- Copyright 2018 by P.T. Gachot
