Only on Tuesdays

I twisted. I turned. I contorted my adolescent body into all kinds of frighteningly awkward positions. Some of the kinder passersby dropped coins and even paper money into the can at my feet (though it was often far nearer to my bum). This persisted, from nine in the morning until noon, when I started to become hungry. I stood up straight and stretched my limbs. Then I collected my earnings and moved onward.

When I was deeper into the city, I stopped for a bite to eat. I was thankful to find that I only had to spend half of the money I had made thus far, meaning that I could simply take a break before supper, instead of returning to the street. One can only take so much performing before one goes mad.

I decided to spend my next few hours at my favorite park. I gazed longingly at happy families—mothers who watched proudly as their children played and grew. I never had that. I would never have that. I sighed and chose something else to focus my attention on. I noticed a young man, sitting on a bench by himself, sharing a bag of potato chips with nearby birds. He was dressed in an old jacket and jeans; he probably was homeless, like I often was. I wanted to go start a conversation with him, but I was too young for him, by at least ten years. It's too bad it was a Monday.



I gently fed my last potato chip to the bird on my shoulder. It chewed, swallowed, and, seeing that I was now empty-handed, flew off. I stood and brushed crumbs from my lap. I was about to leave when I noticed a girl watching me. She couldn't have been more than thirteen, less than half my age, so it was wrong of me to be attracted to her. But somehow, she looked wise, well beyond her years. I wanted to approach her, but her mother was probably just around the corner, and what would she think of a twenty-nine-year-old homeless man shooting the breeze with her daughter? I gave her a quick wave and was on my way.

I woke up the next morning to the sweet sound of an acoustic guitar. Its player was a woman, sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk under the hot sun, making her golden hair and flawless skin glow. Her back was to me, but I needn't any more than the sound of her guitar to know that she was beautiful. I knew I looked an eyesore, but still, I needed to see her face, so I got up and walked slowly toward her. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that her eyes were closed peacefully as her song enchanted those who heard it. She was way out of my league. I stole a last glance at her and turned to leave but realized that, with all these people blocking my exits, I was cornered in, right in front of this beautiful creature. She finished her song, and before there was anything I could do about it, her eyes opened and locked on me. The smile faded from her lips, and she opened them to ask, "Are you all right, sir?"

"Y-yes," I stammered. "You're... very talented."

The smile returned to her lips, and a soft pink appeared on her cheeks. "Thank you." And she began to play again. I had a clear path out now, but I didn't bother with it. I was glad I hadn't left before. I let the girl's beautiful music caress my ears instead.

At the end of her second song, she opened her eyes and looked at me again, oddly, as if she hadn't been expecting me to stay. Then she reached into her guitar case and began to count her earnings. When she finished, she pocketed the money, put her guitar in its case, and stood up. She looked at me again. I felt stupid, suddenly, like I was gawking. I opened my mouth and started to ask her out on a date, but felt even more stupid. I was penniless! Where would I take her? A dumpster behind some restaurant, where we could feed on scraps? I lowered my head, defeated, and walked away.

But before I had taken even my first step, I heard, "Accompany me to lunch?"

I spun around and saw the beautiful musician smiling sweetly at me. A part of me felt like it didn't matter to her that I wasn't able to pay for it. I nodded, and she stepped into the crowd of people on the sidewalk. I followed her closely.

When we were in a quieter part of town, I cleared my throat and said, "I'm Axel. What's your name?"

"Lorraine," she answered, adjusting her grip on her guitar case.

"I could carry that for you," I offered, but she only shook her head.

I asked, "How long have you been playing?"

Lorraine hesitated, and I thought she was counting. If she was as young as she looked, there couldn't have been much to count. "Quite a while," was all she replied.

"Well, you're wonderful," I told her. She blushed again, a faint smile crossing her lips. "I loved hearing you play. I wish I had something to give you in return."

"It's fine," she assured me.

"No, really." I stopped her, and gazed into her honey-colored eyes. "I feel like... I owe you."

She paused, as if studying me, and then smiled. "Then come with me."

"I can't buy you lunch," I pointed out.

Her smile didn't falter. "I know," she said. Then she turned away and kept walking. Again, I followed her.

We found ourselves inside a cozy diner. Despite my refusal, Lorraine had doubled her order of a sandwich, onion rings, and coffee, and the food was later placed in front of me, its enticing aroma tantalizing my nostrils. I had been long aware that I was hungry, but never this aware. Still, I tried to deny her offer. It didn't seem fair to accept this meal when I had done nothing to deserve it.

"Eat," she insisted, a bit of impatience in her tone. I looked up from my—I mean, the—plate of onion rings as Lorraine chewed a bite of her sandwich. "Please."

Reluctantly, I stuck the first onion ring in my mouth. It was delightfully hot and made loud crunches beneath my teeth. I swallowed, and it was difficult not to reach immediately for another. "Thank you," I said.

Lorraine only smiled in response, and I continued eating. My food was gone before Lorraine had even finished her sandwich. She pushed her onion rings toward me, and I furrowed my brow at her. "Why are you doing this?" I asked.

She pushed the plate an inch closer, and I reached in.

"Life gets lonely when you live like me," Lorraine said, looking away.

"That's hard to imagine," I marveled. "You're nice, you're beautiful, and you're talented; I can hardly believe you've ever been lonely in your life."

She was trying not to show a reaction, but I saw her cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. "You'd be surprised how poorly I'm treated some days."

"Poorly?"

Lorraine looked at me then and shrugged. "People don't always see me as you do. That's all."

"I don't understand," I said. "What else could they be seeing?"

She smiled. "Thank you for having lunch with me, Axel." She rose from her seat, and I walked her out of the diner. At the door, she stopped me. "It's been nice meeting you," she said. "Take care of yourself." And she turned and walked away.

"Well... wait!" I shouted after her.

Lorraine spun around, her head cocked slightly to one side. "Yes?"

"Isn't there some way I can repay you?"

"That's not necessary," she insisted. "Your company has been payment enough. Goodbye, Axel."

"No!" I shouted as she tried to leave once more. Desperately, I admitted, "I'd like to spend more time with you." Lorraine frowned, and I quickly added, "You don't have to spend another cent on me, I promise. Your company is payment enough." However, her frown did not falter. Looking closer though, I noticed that her expression was not one of adversity, but of longing.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I—I have to go home."

I did not want to let her leave, but I nodded in acceptance. "Thank you anyway. Farewell, Lorraine." I faced the ground as if it would help me to force my feet into Lorraine's opposite direction.

"I'll be at the park again later tonight," she said finally. "If you want, you can meet me there."

I smiled. Meet her there? I lived there. "Thank you," I said, but by the time I turned, she had already gone.



Closing the hotel room door behind me, I dropped my guitar carelessly to the scantily carpeted floor and launched myself onto the bed so hard that I nearly bounced off. I clutched its pillows with angry fists as I cursed my soft heart. Axel was a wonderful man, but I could never have a relationship with him. No matter how strongly I craved attention, I could never have a real relationship with anyone. I had led Axel on, and to see him again would be to further encourage his false hopes.

I had never stood anyone up before. I knew it wouldn't matter tomorrow, but I didn't know if I could find it in my heart to break my promise to Axel, especially after he'd been so kind to me. The least I could do was spend a few more hours with him, even if it meant an aftermath of immense pain, one way or another.

I sighed and grabbed my guitar. If I was ever going to eat again, I needed money. I had six or seven hours to decide whether I was actually going to meet Axel at the park. But a lot could happen in six or seven hours. That was something I knew all too well.