Charlie descended the stairs like a zombie out of one of the movies he used to watch. What’s more, he knew what he looked like. His reflection in the glass door at the base of the stairs slowly came into view, like a camera panning upward, he saw his feet, his legs, then, his growing gut and finally his pale, hopeless face. His disheveled beard and hollow, empty eyes with their constant glassy eyed stare.

Enough sense remained to check his mail, it was stuffed with bills, the envelopes had been stuffed in for so long that even drawing them out took several tugs, and when he did it was obvious the white papers had permanent crinkles on them.

One envelope however, did catch his eye. He flipped the stack over, ‘Oh right, the credit card… wait, I ordered that… yesterday. Already? Wait was that yesterday? It shouldn’t be here already.’ Charlie reached up and touched his forehead, like a pitcher with too much water, everything felt just overflowing, like things were running away from him as water down the sides.

With slow, ponderous effort, he tore open the envelope with the little blue card and slipped the plastic into his wallet. The rest of the mail didn’t matter. He pressed his hand to the warm glass of the building door and walked outside. The rest of his mail was thrown immediately into a covered green garbage can, the lid of it flapping back and forth for several seconds behind him. Without thinking, his mind immediately went to work, ‘Eight swing cycles before it stops.’

Charlie didn’t have to look to know he was right.

The street wasn’t very busy, few cars were ever out at this time of the day except the ones parked. A few people boarded buses, a few people walked the sidewalk with him.

‘No.’ Charlie said to himself. ‘Not with me. ‘As’ me.’

The way they crossed the street when they saw him coming, the doubletakes he got, the leary looks, the whispers he caught from groups that did neither of the other two things told him plenty. ‘I’m among them, but I’m not one of them.’

‘They don’t want me here. Nobody wants me here. I’m not part of their city that they want to think of.’ It was an unspoken truth that Charlie understood, but largely tried to ignore.

A bird chirped overhead, he stopped to look up, red crest, as he expected. And a mate alit beside it, a nest was well under construction. Twigs were shaping up in a crude circle, and again his calculating mind went to work. ‘At current pace assuming they continue to struggle to find materials it will take another five days to finish.’ Past the birds he saw the clouds overhead, ‘Another rainstorm, typical max construction for a structure of that sort is six days, bad weather and high winds will make it harder. They’ll be homeless longer.’

His hand was moving before he thought about it, he reached out to a little branch that grew off of another branch, and snapped it off. He began breaking it down into smaller twigs that were roughly the same size as the ones chosen by the birds overhead.

Passersby watched him the way he used to watch crazy homeless people ranting on the street. ‘I make no sense.’ Charlie knew it, he could feel it in their eyes. He ignored it, reached up, and broke off another small branch which he then broke down into tiny twigs the same as the first.

He then dropped the twigs at the base of the tree, waved to the birds, and went on his way.

His shuffling gait away from where the birds perched was ignored when he stopped doing what Charlie knew they considered to be just pointlessly crazy. ‘They didn’t know what that was for, they didn’t see the birds, they didn’t make the link between my actions and what it would mean for the ones above. Of course it seemed crazy.’

His thoughtless walk carried him to the corner store, a once familiar place where he used to buy off-brand versions of Gatorade for his group’s morning runs.

The Get-n-Go corner store was a fixture in the neighborhood. The original owner having started it in the years prior to the second world war, it still kept much of the post prohibition and pre-war look. Now retired, as was the owner’s son, their grandson Josef now ran the place and still worked behind the counter.

Megacenters, and large grocers moved in years earlier, but nothing could unseat the little corner store with its unusual family and genuinely welcoming atmosphere. Charlie came through the glass doors and the same bell that had rung for almost a hundred years, rang again.

Josef looked up from behind the counter. “Charlie?” Joseph asked with wide azure eyes. “Charlie?!” He repeated with shock. “My god man, what happened to you…?”

Josef immediately left his spot behind the long counter, flipping up the board that led to the employee side and coming out to greet him. Josef’s eyes were filled with worry. “You haven’t been by in weeks or I guess… months now. What happened, are you alright?” Josef approached and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

He looked down at Charlie’s haggard face, and Charlie raised his head to meet the eyes of the towering owner. Big as a bear, cuddly as the teddy variety, Josef’s love of his neighborhood and everyone in it made him a popular man.

Charlie however, found it all the more unbearable to hear an expression of concern out of an old friend.

“I figured you had gone off on another one of your trips, doing… whatever you guys do at those institutions… don’t try to explain it to me, I’m too dumb.” Josef flashed pearl white teeth as he mocked himself.

Charlie snorted, he knew it was the opposite. ‘No, you’re the only one I’ve ever met who is smarter than I… you just love your family and neighborhood and legacy more than you like your mind.’ The praise he’d given verbally many times leapt unbidden to the front of his tongue, but he couldn’t pry open his mouth to say it.

“Sh-Shop. I need to shop.” Charlie got the words out, and with agonizing slowness he used the back of his hand to brush off Josef’s concerns. “Just, I need a few things… that’s all. I. Won’t. Be long.” Charlie muttered and went past the big shopkeeper.

Charlie began going up and down the aisles after snagging a small basket. Anytime he saw the aisle had people in it, he went to the next one. Such a ponderous process made his earlier statement about not being long turn into a lie even though all he needed was a few things.

Cheap chili.

Cheap trash bags.

Sugary cereal.

Crackers.

If it was cheap and it was slop, Charlie bought it, his only trip past the fruits or vegetables in the back, where the sound of water spraying over the produce and the chill breeze of the air conditioning that kept the product fresh for longer wafted over him, was to avoid people.

As an added measure, he snagged a few off brand two liters of soda. It all weighed heavily in the basket, sliding back and forth until he wedged a few cream filled cookie packages into one part of it, sealing the gap and keeping the contents from sliding.

Every now and again he could feel Josef’s eyes on him, the soft azure irises were as bear-like as the rest of the man, but he couldn’t just stand away from the counter forever.

Charlie saw a white haired, stooped over, little old lady approach the counter with a few items, and Josef had to leave the spot where he stood and return behind the register.

With his shopping completed, Charlie made his way in a slow, hopeless shuffle toward the counter. A few customers began to emerge from their aisles, some of them he recognized, none of them knew him. Their shocked, disgusted stares were followed by some of them turning their carts around and walking away. Others simply stepped back, giving him a wide berth.

‘It’s okay that they don’t know me.’ Charlie told himself, ‘Even I don’t know me.’

He went on, standing well behind the old woman who shifted about on her feet, whether she saw his reflection in the microwave on the rear wall behind Josef or whether she simply smelled him or felt Charlie’s eyes behind her, she wasn’t comfortable. She paid without chatting, and left as fast as she could.

“Sorry, register’s down.” Josef said when Charlie stepped forward.

“What…?” Charlie’s red, cracked eyes tried to grasp what he just heard.

“I said, sorry, the register is down.” Josef replied. He tapped the machine connected to the card reader.

“But-” Charlie pointed to the old woman that was almost out of view, “she paid…”

“Yeah, cash, you got cash, Charlie?” Josef asked.

“No… credit card.” Charlie said and hung his head.

“You are Charlie Manning, right? You don’t use credit cards… since when…?” Josef asked, but Charlie only shrugged.

“Okay, go on.” Josef said, and Charlie stepped away, leaving the basket behind.

“Wait, Charlie!” Josef exclaimed, and Charlie stopped to slowly turn around and face the grocer.

“You forgot your stuff, man.” Josef said with a glowing, warm smile.

“But… you said…” Charlie trailed off when Josef put a broad hand over the edge of the basket and pushed it toward him. “Just take it, man, and use the basket. I’ll come by your place with a smartphone and the Square reader attached, you can pay me then. You’re always good for it.”

Pain like a knife to the gut ran through Charlie’s whole body at his friend’s words. Charlie shut his eyes tight so as to reveal none of what he felt, and took the basket, hefting it in one hand, he murmured, “Thanks, Josef.” Then slowly took himself out.

Josef watched as Charlie headed back the way he came.

When Charlie was gone, another customer stepped up, a man in a crisp three piece suit. “Sorry, did I hear you say your credit reader was down?” The slender businessman asked.

“Nah, it’s fine, let me see your card.” Josef replied and the telltale noise of the receipt being printed off rang out a moment later. “Thank you, and come again.” He gave a smile and a wave to the customer, then went on about the rest of his day.