The Son of Hayduke

Yeah, they do look at him in an odd way.

At first glance, their heads are bowed down with their eyes on his sandals.
They look funny and foreign. His pant legs are rolled up like he has been wading in the water. They murmur amongst themselves and continue to gawk when he is not looking. His hair is pulled back and held together in a ponytail. He hasn't shaved and his teeth are kinda yeller. I reckon, he doesn't smell too pleasant either. Their eyes still noting every little detail and matching it with a judgment. He rolls up a cigarette and tucks it behind his ear.

"Hey look at the bum."
"Dumbfuck!"
"Subject has been identified. Over"

He sits on the city bench watching the tourist folk pass through while spending ridiculous amounts of money on shit they don't need. Of course, that is his thinking and his reasons are his only.

"It makes them feel better to think they own things. Vain."

A pigeon flutters beside him while he picks his toenails and he begins to talk to the bird as it draws closer to him.

"But really, people don't own things, things own them. They sign some papers, buy a nice house, fill it up with shit, stack up bills, add a ball and chain to their ankle, and become immersed in the artificial. They live in a world full of superficial relationships because they value reputation and images over truth and respect. Fuckin' vanity! It is rather deceptive and corrupting to and of those who are truly good and honest beings. So bird,... where shall we fly away to this time?"

They, the curious, seem to listen to his words not because they understand but simply because it is amusing to watch a man who appears to talk to himself. He grabs a toenail and sticks it in mouth to gnaw on. The bird is frantically trying to find the right spot. He hollers a few more incoherent words and startles the pigeon enough that it flies away. It is then that he turns and makes eye contact with the curious crew. They look away and act like nothing happened.

"Psst, he's watching us!"
"Change the light, I repeat, change the light."
"Don't look at him."

He gets up, throws his bag over his shoulder and walks towards them. They're now watching him from the corner of their eyes. He knows and he doesn't care. The street light signals that it is okay to cross and they, like ordinary sheeple, begin to cross the street. He casually follows them with long and exaggerated steps.

"Is he still there?"
"Yeah and he's still watching us."
"Dammit, I gotta pee."

They immediately walk into a T-shirt business and act like ordinary AmerIcans. He stops just outside the store they're in, drops his bag on the curb, and lights his cigarette as he leans on a parking meter.

"Fuck! He's waiting for us."
"Give me some money, I'm buying a shirt!"
"Bathroom."

He takes long and hard drags as he watches people blindly walk by. The mountains and the rivers are singing glory over the sound of the machine. He hears it well and looks up into a tree and sees the same pigeon from the bench. He looks back into the store then back to the pigeon in the tree.

"Shall we help them or are they not worth it?"

In the store, the three gawking guys are arguing about how to get out of this situation. One buys a shirt, one uses the bathroom, and the other paces nervously before the shelves of merchandise. He sees their uneasiness and decides that the time has come to do the deed. He tosses his cigarette onto the sidewalk, walks into the store, and approaches the fearful one of the three.

"Who are you working for?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'Who are you working for?'"

"I' um, am sorry but... I do not follow what you're saying?"

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid? Who is your CO?"

"I need to go because my friends are leaving. I'm sorry."

"Ha, you're evading and now you expect me to believe that you and your 'friends' are going to leave me alone?"

"You're harassing me! Let me through!"

"No, correction: YOU and YOUR 'friends' are harassing many! You pry into the lives of innocent people. You scoop up information on them. You threaten them. You lie and manipulate things in a way that corrupts any chance for Truth to be in you. You follow orders and you whore yourself for their hidden agendas. You are afraid to tell the Truth because they will kill you and hurt your family if you disobey their orders. And do not think I don't know because, you know what, my old job was being YOU. So before I let you through, tell your 'friends' that the Truth always wins and that this line of work you're in will always be a burden to the health and life of your soul, your very integrity. The Death of Spirit has consumed you. You see, no one will trust you ever again."

He steps back and let's the jittery man through and then he eyes all the still faces in this tourist trap of a T-shirt store. He smiles big, waves at them, and right before he exits, he bows. Ta-Da!

Yeah, they really do look at him in a strange way.