Strolling down Davie Street, I came across a sorry-looking individual sitting on the sidewalk, a toque full of holes sitting in front of him, sorting a few coins.  His hair was dirty, greasy, long and scraggly and in his bushy white beard there were traces of food or maybe vomit.  His filthy t-shirt said, “Love thy Neighbour as Thyself.”  On the ground beside him was a cardboard sign with the words, “Turn the Other Cheek” printed on it in squiggly letters.  I noticed that the bottom of one of his shoes was hanging out like a dog’s panting tongue.

As I leaned over to put a couple of quarters into his hat I could smell piss, puke, and alcohol.

“What is your name?”  I asked him.

“Jesus Christ,” he replied, with a slight slur.

“Nice to meet you, Jesus,” I said.  “You seem a bit down on your luck today.”

“My father has forsaken me these days, my friend,” he said.  “It seems he doesn’t like my being drunk so much lately.  I think I’d best cut down or quit drinking for my own good.”

”You know, Jesus, I’m on my way to an AA meeting.  Have you heard of AA?”

“Yes, I have,” he stuttered.

“Hey,” I said.  “How about you come with me and help some people how to hook up with your father.  Many of our members have trouble getting in touch with a higher power.  You could help us and maybe we could help you.”

Jesus looked at me as if to ask me a question or something.  Then he turned his head and spit on the ground.  Suddenly, he got to his feet, a little unsteadily, put his arm in mine and said, “I’d like that, friend.  Lead the way.”

Johnny participates in Megaphone's creative writing workshop at the Gathering Place.