Sunday, September 29, 2002

it’s not unusual to find

it’s not unusual to find wallets, empty and discarded, on the greenbelt across from my house.  when i found one on friday that was full of credit cards and i.d., i pocketed it immediately and took it to my office.  i hadn’t even taken a good look at it, but with my arm in a cast it was too complicated to take a closer look on the fly.  As soon as i got to my desk i took it out.  it was a small leather pouch with a perfume company name on it.  i unzipped it and jesse fell out. 

first, there was an envelope from a major bank, folded, stuffed with cards, tattered and grimy.  the first card was a standard looking bank card for this guy jesse.  then there was a veteran’s administration i.d. card; he’s white, born in 1951.  then his social security card, a bunch of other i.d. and business cards, a notecard with a post offfice box address written on it, and a wadded up piece of a napkin wrapped around a little silver key and a tiny flat singed and acrid roach. 

i started by calling the case manager listed on his homeless veteran’s emergency services card but he said that jesse hadn’t been around for two months and was no longer an active file; i got the strong feeling that this guy didn’t want to waste any time with me at all.  the manager at the Golden Eagle hotel, single room occupancy, was very courteous but unequivocally stated that jesse wasn’t staying with them anymore - or again.  the VA clinic at ft miley near the palace of the legion of honor, by contrast, was appreciative and helpful, and asked me to forward the stuff to his doctor, which i did, reminding him that even though jesse may have a p.o. box on file, if we have his i.d. and his key he can’t get to it, so don’t send the wallet there.  i sent on the roach too, at the risk of federal charges.  this guy looks like he’s had a bad day.  he’ll probably need whatever succor that bitter little stub can offer him.  but even so, all day long my cube smelled faintly like a lawn fire.