Chapter 3

Joshua Green had been a troubled teenager.  His parents fought and drank. When his father lost his factory job, he left the family. His mother worked, but made very little. Joshua managed to finish high school. He worked at a Burger King, then mowing lawns, then farm labor. He had a drug problem. By age 20 he had left no more electronic traces. His social security number was no longer used. And there was a small news report of a Joshua Green dying in a drug related brawl in Denver.

But now there was a new Joshua Green. Maybe his life could be redeemed. Homeless, five years older, with worn cloths, an old backpack. He still had $500 hidden away. He sat looking out at Tampa Bay. He was close to the airport. Planes were taking off and landing.

We spread like seeds falling on disturbed ground. We are the immigrant wildflowers that bloom in desolate places. But at last we find our place.

People liked the new Joshua. He was harmless, funny in a quiet way. He blended into almost any background.

Joe and his family had liked him. Joe had lost his job in a parts plant in Ohio. He was heading south, with a stop over at the Jersey shores. Joshua rode in the back of the van with the kids. Joe’s wife yelled at the kids to stop jumping on poor Joshua, but she was laughing and not too serious about it. Joshua smiled and smelled like gentle befuddlement.

The old homeless drunks liked him, explained the ins and outs of homeless life in Tampa.

The librarians liked him as he sat all day reading everything and using the library Internet terminals.

Phyllis, the social worker at the homeless shelter, liked him. He could be a success story. He could make it back out.

“I don’t have any ID. I lost it all. I don’t know.”

He was sitting in a small office at the homeless shelter. He had stayed there a couple nights.

“We can get a replacement for your social security card. You’ll need that. We can help you get a job. Do you remember your social security number?”

“Sure, I remember.”

Phyllis paused and gave him a long look.

“Are you using, Joshua?”

Joshua seemed puzzled for a moment, then said, “No, no. I used to, but no, not now.”

“How did you get off it?”

“I just don’t want that anymore.”

He believed that he had had a problem and got off it, hiding in a park in Kansas City for days and weeks. He hadn’t wanted it any more. This Joshua Green had never been to Kansas City, but he had read many back issues of the Kansas City Star. He had looked at maps and knew the place names. Some day he would go there to fill the story in.

“That’s good. That’s good, Joshua. I can help with this application. It’s for a cleaning service. It’s a night job, but it’s a start.”

He nodded, smiled meekly.