The businessman was hardly aware of the hat on the pavement.
It may well be the case that he wouldn’t have stopped if his phone hadn’t sent out a merry jingle. He answered it and stood. He seemed to have little interest in what the caller was saying. Hardly aware of the beggar and his old hat, he stood listening and fishing out coins from his pocket. They fell with hardly any sound into a hat that was almost empty. He didn’t seem to see where they landed. He was now telling the person that this item was not his priority; they would have to wait.
The beggar glanced at the hat and wondered what it would be like to tell someone they would have to wait. He looked up at the man. He figured he would have a nice home away from the city. A home and a pretty wife and a car and smartly dressed children and money in the bank and regular holidays…
He suddenly became aware that his benefactor was moving off. He called out his thanks. The city gent just flapped his hand without looking back. His phone had gone off again. This time he didn’t stop. No doubt it was someone of even less importance than the last someone. They’re probably about to get shoved into a holding pattern as well.
The beggar watched him go. He guessed he would be around his own age, give or take a year or two. He was wearing the uniform of a successful city gent. The beggar’s uniform had only ever been army camouflage.
How is it that he didn’t go out there and I did?
Maybe he did.
Then, how is it he wasn’t posted to that hellish town?
Maybe he was.
Why is it that he had to be alongside one of his best mates when the rocket came down?
He didn’t think the man had ever been there.
He didn’t think he had laid awake at night seeing what he had seen, over and over.
He knew he hadn’t come back and been designated unfit for work.
He knew he hadn’t come back to a wife that couldn’t cope or kid’s that couldn’t or wouldn’t understand.
He hadn’t come back to find the solution to it in a bottle.
No. He hadn’t come back to this, with nowhere to sleep.
He hadn’t gone away to any of that, and he hadn’t come back to any of this.
This man in the suit. This man who had just dropped coins so casually into his hat. He could so easily have been this man. He could have been him.
But hey! It’s no good blaming him. It’s the ones you don’t see that are to blame. The warmongers. The powerbrokers. The only ones to truly benefit. They want what the others have got. They don’t share. They just want.
His head shook as he dragged his hat nearer and did a count. Just short. The guy that runs the pub in this part of town was friendly, he’d probably waive the full price.
After that, he’d be up to facing the nightly problem of finding a place to sleep.