My Favorite Hobo

    Remember, every morning my best friend Karl comes to my house at 7 am sharp.  He is an early riser, I am not.  One day I'll learn to get up early and write in the morning.



    This is true.



    Today Karl and I head into the city.  To us, the city was a big place.  It had many dangers for us to navigate through. 



    It has a train station in the center of town.  At least as near as I can tell.



    We are headed for some fun at the local department store.  Back then we had no malls to hang out.  The city and stores have grown.  I have not.



    We are headed for the 4th floor, that's the toy department, one of my favorites.



    Hey, were kids, we are gonna buy some rockets to build and fire them off.  We have been launching at night, we are shooting for the moon. 



    One time, we put a mouse into the nose cone,  we didn't do a good job of insulating the cone, so we had our first fatality in our rocket missions.  We buried him in a nice place with a marker and said he was a hero and gave his life for our program.



    The vestibule at the department store sprays perfume when you walk in.  My mother always new when we went there cause we smelled so nice.  She could smell the perfume over the cigars we smoked on the way home.  Of course she could always detect a hint of smoke from the cigars too.  Trouble for sure for me.



    Were headed home and who do we run into....Sharky.  His jaw and teeth really look like a shark...no joke.  He was dressed in old clothes.  He was poor.  His mom died when he was young.  He can't remember his father.



    "Hey Sharky, how is it today?"



    He hits us up for money.



    We make fun of him and call him names.



    He chased us for 6 blocks before we lose him coming in a back alley.  We knew the city.  We knew where to go and hide.



    Down the hill on main street is the train depot.  It is in disrepair.  Bums hang out there.  There is one waiting for us now.



    We head to the hot chocolate machine.  It is dark in the station.  i get a half cup as usual.  We then proceed to punch the hell out of the great American Hot chocolate machine.  My knuckles hurt.  Karl kicks it a few times to make sure it is dead. 



    They didn't have quality control then....they still don't have it...ever use those darn things...



    Our hobo com is in our sights.  He has a dark beard and black shiny hair.  We smell him a mile away.  Sure smells like a hobo with a stinky cigar smell.  Just like us.



    "Hello boys" greeting us like were in a plush hotel.  "Top of the morning, my fine young friends", he adds to his opening statement.



    His heavy dark hand reaches into his front pocket of his worn out black trousers.



    He pulls out a ring and shows it to us.  It hovers just below my nose.  It reflects the dim light of the train station. 



    "Here is a fine trinket, yes sir, made in Germany during the war."  He smiles and his yellow teeth and big grin make me step back a bit.



    "What would you offer me for this little treasure"  he asks?



    I looked at Karl like were gonna get taken on this deal.



    Karl, still interested in this ring, says to the hobo, "I'll give you a dollar for it."  Karl gives him the Karl smile, a generous smile,  a smile full of millions of dollars.



    "You must be kidding my boy, I can get ten dollars from any Jack on the street" he smarts out.  Well you know who Jack is don't you.  It is you and me.  But my name isn't Jack.  Still the same.



    "But look at this dollar Mr. Hobo" Karl says with sincerity.  "It's new from the printer".



    "Call me Jack" the Hobo says.



    He likes this, it has to be more than a bucks worth in his mind.  If not today, real soon, maybe tomorrow.



    Hobo jack says "let me see it boy".



    "Oh no" Karl pulls back. "Don't touch the magic dollar". "It has more value than you think".



    Jack smacks his jaw.  His hand rolls smoothly around his chin.  Then he says " Hmmm, okay, let's swap for it even up,"



    His right hand extends the ring to Karl.



    Karl extends the dollar to Jack.



    All of a sudden, Jack grabs Karl and his magic dollar.  The fight begins.



    Jack turns to run and Karl jumps on his back.  They spin in a circle together.  I tackle Jack and we all fall onto the wooden floor.



    We rally around, kicking, biting, cursing. 



    Jack throws Karl and me across the train station floor.  He runs out the door and down the tracks.  Just as luck would have it, he hops a caboose attached to a moving train.  The locomotive pulls the train, the whistle blow, our favorite hobo waves good by. As the hobo tips his hat, he waves the dollar at us with his big smirking smile. 



    I look over at Karl and expect him to be bummed out about losing his dollar.



    On his middle finger of his right hand is a big gold ring with diamonds on it. 



    He is smiling from ear to ear.



    We ran all the way home just in case the hobo finds out his missing ring.  By the time he does we will be miles away.



    Karl's mother got the nicest Christmas present.



    Karl got, well, in a little trouble.