Pidgeon (standard:drama, 2963 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Apr 16 2019	Views/Reads: 1649/1142	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A kindly soul gives regular money to a vagabond, but what does he do with it?

He was there again, with mournful, puppy-dog eyes, greasy complexion,
unshaven, crouched in the doorway of a boarded-up butcher's shop. Even 
though he knew he couldn't guarantee any money, he still asked anyway. 
"Spare some change please?" 

Beverley Hayes always had a pound coin ready, and she handed it to him
with a smile. "There you go," she said. "Thanks love" he said, as she 
continued on into the coffee shop next door. 

When she came out with her morning espresso she knew he would be gone.
He always was. Every morning when she came to work, her twenty minute 
walk from her house would take her via a dual-carriageway underpass, 
beyond which was a row of shops where he would be huddled, waiting for 
her, waiting for his coin, where he would then leave and vanish further 
into the town. 

Opposite those shops was an office block where she worked on the third
floor in a catering recruitment agency, and she entered as she had done 
for the past five years, up the lift and into her shared office where 
Colin Jacobs was already there, as he always was. He was looking out of 
the window. 

"I don't know why you bother," he said. "I mean, I know I get here
early, but he gets there even earlier. There's no way he sleeps there 
though. Clearly he waits for you, then when he gets his money he 
disappears into the underpass". "Probably hungry or something, going to 
get something to eat. Gone to get breakfast". 

"Breakfast, with a pound, what's he going to get with that? He's not
going into that coffee shop you go in is he? Can't even afford the 
entry fee to get in there. What is it for that anyway?" he said, 
pointing to the coffee she held, "about four quid or something". "Four 
twenty," she said, settling at her desk. 

"He knows he's got a good thing with you," he said, "Guaranteed money".
"If I can help him, and not just him, others as well, then I will". 
"Who is he, anyway? Every morning I see him there, sponging off people 
who walk past. Then when you come along and give him his pound, off he 
scoots until tomorrow, back in position. Oh poor me I'm hungry and 
homeless, give me cash so I can buy drugs and booze and cigarettes". 
"They're not all spongers," said Beverley, "some are genuine". "Yes, I 
know that, but its the spongers, sorry, the bummers that give the 
genuine ones the bad name, and makes people not trust them, not want to 
give money in-case it's just some sponging waster who wants his next 
fix, who'll come out with some sob story about how he got his benefits 
stopped because he got found out cheating the system. Oh woe is me". 

"I don't suppose you'll be giving any money to him then?" 

"I'd rather put my money in a bonfire. At least then I can warm my hands
and get more use out of it. I'm doing them a favour by not giving them 
anything. Motivation to get off their lazy arses and earn it, rather 
than just putting their hand out to ask for free money". The following 
morning, he was there again, Beverley with her pound ready as she left 
the underpass. 

"There you go," she said, smiling as she headed in to the coffee shop.
Colin was there again, early as usual, and he came quickly over with 
his hand out and a forlorn, sad look on his face. 

"Spare some change there Bev. Oh please, pleeeease...I need to buy some
petrol for my BMW. I need the latest phone. Oh go on". Bev tried not to 
smile, but couldn't help herself. 

The following morning was one of those rare times when he wasn't there,
and when that happened she felt a pang of concern, wondering where he 
was and what he was up to. 

"Remind me who he is again," asked Colin, "I was so overwhelmed with
worry for him the last time I forget who he is". 

"To be honest," she said, "I don't really know who he is, even though
I've been giving him the money for nearly two years. I asked his name 
once but I don't think he heard me, just went into the tunnel". "Think 
I'll call him 'Pidgeon'," said Colin. 


Click here to read the rest of this story (255 more lines)