HOMELESS
I had nowhere to go. Absolutely nowhere. “A couple of nights at the train station might be manageable, but then what?” Suddenly, a glimmer of hope flickered in my mind: “The allotment! How could I have forgotten? Well, ‘allotment’ is a stretchit’s really just a dilapidated shed, but surely that’s better than the station,” I reasoned with myself.
I boarded the local train, resting my head against the chilly window and closing my eyes. Flooded by painful memories of recent events, I thought about the last two years: losing Mum and Dad, left entirely alone, no safety net or support. I couldn’t afford my studies at university and had to abandon them, picking up work at the local market instead.
But after all that hardship, luck seemed to smile on me when I met Tom, my love. He was kind, decent, and before long, we had a modest wedding. It seemed things would finally look up. Yet, life had other plansTom suggested selling my childhood flat in the centre of town to open our own business.
He painted everything so beautifully that I felt not the slightest hesitation. I trusted him completely, certain we’d soon leave our financial worries behind. “Once were settled, maybe we can start thinking about a baby. I so want to be a mother,” I dreamed, naïvely.
The business quickly fell apart. Arguments about wasted money became routine, and our relationship disintegrated. Eventually, Tom brought another woman home and showed me the door.
My first instinct was to go to the police, but I realised there was nothing to accuse him of. Id willingly sold my family flat and handed Tom all the money.
***
When I arrived at the station, I wandered alone along the deserted platform. It was early spring, the allotment season hadn’t begun yet. The plot had sprouted wild weeds, falling into despair over the last three years. “Never mind, Ill tidy up and things might feel normal again,” I thought, though I knew nothing would ever be as it once was.
The key lay where it always hadunder the porchbut the wooden door sagged and resisted my attempts to open it. I tried with all my strength, but it wouldn’t budge. Defeated, I sat on the porch steps and burst into silent tears.
Suddenly, I spotted smoke and heard a shuffle from the neighbouring allotment. Hopeful to find the neighbours, I rushed over.
Aunt Rachel? Are you home? I called.
But instead, I found a scruffy old man tending a small fire, warming water in a battered mug. Fear and surprise made me freeze.
Who are you? Wheres Aunt Rachel? I asked, stepping back.
Dont be frightened, he replied. And please, dont ring the police. I mean no harm. I dont enter the housejust live here, in the garden.
His baritone was unexpectedly gentle, educatedhe spoke like a person whos read books and spent time in lecture halls.
Are you homeless? I blurted out, forgetting myself.
Yes, he answered softly, avoiding my gaze. Do you live nearby? Dont worry, I wont disturb you.
Whats your name?
Michael.
And your middle name? I ventured.
Middle name? he seemed amused, Frederick.
I studied Michael Frederick. His clothes were worn but clean-ish, and he presented himself with a quiet dignity.
I genuinely dont know who to turn to for help right now I sighed, feeling the weight of it all.
Whats happened? he asked, kindly.
The doors stuck… I cant open it.
If you let me, Ill take a look, the homeless man offered.
I would really appreciate that, I said, desperate.
While Michael worked away at the door, I sat on the bench and contemplated this stranger. Who was I to judge him? In a way, we were in the same boat Both rootless, both lost.
Miss, the jobs done! Michael Frederick smiled and pushed the door open. Wait, are you planning to sleep here tonight?
Well yes, where else would I go? I replied, a bit surprised.
Is there heating?
Theres a wood stove, I think but Im clueless about it.
Alright. And firewood?
I havent a clue, I admitted, feeling hopeless.
Let me see what I can do, Michael said decisively, and stepped off the allotment.
I spent nearly an hour tidying up. The shed was bone-cold and damp, hardly inviting. I felt so lost, unsure how to live here. Soon enough, Michael returned with armfuls of firewood. For the first time in days, I felt glad there was another soul nearby.
He managed to clear the stove and get a fire going. After an hour, the shed grew welcomingly warm.
All sorted! Keep tossing in bits of wood every now and then, but let it die down at night. The warmth should last until morning, he explained.
And you? Back to your neighbours? I asked.
Yes, Ill stay on their plot a bit longerdont fancy heading back to town. It would just stir up old memories.
Wait, Michael Frederick. Please, lets have supper and a cup of tea before you go, I insisted.
He didnt resist. Quietly took off his jacket and settled by the stove.
Sorry if Im prying but you dont seem like someone who belongs on the streets. Why are you homeless? Wheres your family?
Michael told me about his life: lecturer at the university, dedicated to his work and science. Old age crept up unnoticed, and by the time he realised he was completely alone, it was too late to change anything.
A year ago, his niece began visiting. She gently hinted shed help if he left her his flat in his will. Of course, Michael was delighted and agreed.
Then Tanya gained his trust, convinced him to sell the flat in the city for a cosy house in the suburbs, with a large garden. She said shed found exactly the right place, and at a bargain price.
Hed always wanted clean air and peace, so readily agreed. After the flat sold, Tanya suggested they open a bank accountbetter not to keep all the money on him.
Uncle Mike, sit on this bench; Ill go find out the details. Id better take the bag with mejust in case someones watching us, she said outside the bank.
Tanya disappeared inside, promising to sort everything out. He waited an hour, then two, then three. She never came back. Eventually, he entered the bank only to find no customers and another exit at the rear.
Michael Frederick couldnt believe his own niece would deceive him so cruelly. He sat out there, waiting for Tanya. The next day, he went to her house. A strange woman answered, explaining Tanya didnt live there anymore, and shed sold her old flat two years ago.
Such a sad story Michael sighed. Since then, Ive been on the streets. I still cant believe I have no home left.
Honestly, I thought I was the only one My own situations quite similar, I admitted, and told him my story.
Its all pretty grim. But at least Ive lived my life. Youre young; you left university, lost your flat Dont lose hope. Every problem can be solved. Youre young, things will work out for you, he tried to reassure me.
Lets stop dwelling on sadnesstime for supper! I smiled.
I watched the old man eat pasta and sausages with gusto. I felt an ache for himso alone, so helpless.
How frightening, to end up completely alone, on the streets, realising no one cares about you, I thought.
Miss, I can help you regain your place at university. I still have friends there, and you could study on scholarship, I think, Michael said unexpectedly. Of course, I cant visit old colleagues like this, but I can write a letter to the head, my old friend Constantine. Hell help.
Thank you, that would be wonderful! I was delighted.
Thank you for supper and for listening. Ill be offits late already, Michael said, rising.
Wait. It doesn’t sit right, you going back out. I have three rooms herechoose whichever suits you. Honestly, Im scared to stay here alone. That stove worries meI know nothing about it. Wont you stay, help me out? I asked quietly.
No, I wont leave you, he answered seriously.
***
Two years later Id finished my exams with success and, looking forward to summer holidays, headed home. Well, homeI still lived at the student residence but came down here weekends and holidays.
Hello! I called, hugging Granddad Mike warmly.
My dear! Why didnt you call? Id have met you at the station. So, did you pass? he beamed.
Yes! Nearly all top marks! I boasted. I brought cakeput the kettle on, lets celebrate!
Michael Frederick and I drank tea, sharing our news.
Ive planted grapevines. Over there, Ill build a gazeboitll be pleasant and comfortable, he enthused.
Lovely! Honestly, youre the boss heredo whatever you want. I just pop in and out, I laughed.
Michael had transformed. No longer alone, he now had a home, and a granddaughterme. I had found my feet again. Michael Frederick became my family. I am grateful life sent me a granddad who stood by me and filled the void when I needed support most.
