The Writer returned to the center. It\nwas practically deserted. The woman was drinking coffee out of a\nStyrofoam cup, and the girls were eating chips and watching a\nChristmas cartoon on television. She had changed the station. Just\nlike that. Just got up and changed hate to joy with a push of a\nbutton. The world can work like that too, sometimes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A sticky heat rushed up inside the\nWriter. He walked up to the counter and the man came over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI want to buy tires for that woman\nsitting over there,\u201d he said gesturing. \u201cThe best you have. It\ncan wait until after the ice storm but I’ll pay for it now.. She’s\ngoing to leave the Honda here until the day after Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He fished out his wallet and produced a\ncredit card. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The counter man shot him an odd,\nsmirking look, a \u201cyou sucker\u201d look. Then he rattled off some\nholiday all-weather specials and the transaction was completed. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A chorus of giggles emanated from\nbehind the Writer. He checked its source: the girls were laughing at\nsomething on television. He began walking over and the woman saw him\nand stood up to meet him. The hood was off and all her hair was\ncoiled over her right shoulder. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI bought you some new tires for\nChristmas. They’ll put them on when the shop reopens and then you can\nhit the road,\u201d he said. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She hesitated, then said, \u201cThanks.\nI’m obliged.\u201d A cracked smile formed at the edges of her mouth. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Writer still didn’t get that word.\nHe vaguely recalled a poem by Pablo Neruda called \u201cThe Poet’s\nObligation,\u201d where the poet boldly announces his noble obligation\nto serve distressed humans by helping them hear the old, stirring\nsound of the ocean. It was the poet’s \u201cdestiny\u201d to do so. It was\nsuch a heroic metaphor and absolutely worthless in a moment of\ncrisis. The Writer wondered if Neruda was a phony. If every single\nwriter alive was a phony. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI have an idea,\u201d said the Writer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But really, he didn’t. He just\nimprovised. And it went something like this: I’ll pay for three\nnights in the motel for you and the girls. I’ll buy you a phone at\nthe convenience store and put a hundred minutes on it. I’ll give you\nsome cash to buy some food. I can check on you later if you want or\nyou never have to hear from me again<\/em>. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n She listened without expression and\nthat unnerved the Writer. Was she capable of expression? Was she\nsupposed to act a certain way? \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n He finished. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay,\u201d she said. She accepted his\noffer without expression. Was she supposed to act a certain way?<\/p>\n\n\n\n She left him, gathered up the girls,\nand explained to them they were leaving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He watched her and thought: She’ll\ntrash the room and run up a huge bill on his card. She’ll meet some\nmeth head at the convenience store and they’llshoot up in front of\nthe kids while watching Frosty the Snowman. She’ll steal. She’ll text\nhim asking for more money.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n He stopped himself. He remembered\nsomething his mother taught him long ago. She did more than teach him\nthe lesson with words. She modeled it until the day she died. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n Give without expectation of reward.\nYou might get burned, You might save someone’s life. You’ll probably\nnever know what transpires when you give. You just give.<\/em> \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n Writing isn’t giving. Giving is giving.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n A few minutes later, the woman and\ngirls caried a few bundled possessions they’d scavenged from the\nHonda and struggled across the icy parking lot to the motel. The\nWriter brought up the rear and toted a black leaf bag full of\nclothing and blankets over his shoulder. It was all very Santa-like\nif Santa had shifted his priority to the homeless, as he well should.\n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Writer returned to the center. It was practically deserted. The woman was drinking coffee out of a Styrofoam cup, and the girls were eating chips and watching a Christmas cartoon on television. She had changed the station. Just like that. Just got up and changed hate to joy with a push of a button. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5586,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5585","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","category-meditations","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5585","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5585"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5585\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5588,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5585\/revisions\/5588"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5586"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5585"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5585"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5585"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}