Josh

I once met a man named Josh.

Josh was homeless, I think for at least three years or so. Prior to that, he lived in the sticks (one of those small towns that no one remembers, and if they do, they don't usually have anything good to say about it) and he worked in construction. I'm not sure what he built, but he did mention something about going up and down a ladder night and day and how hard it is to find someone willing to carry timber. 

Josh's dad had also worked in construction, but died some time after a scandal involving Josh's mother. His dad tried to keep the scandal quiet but eventually the word got out and the authorities got involved. The whole thing was a bloody mess that you would hardly believe even if I told you. It ended up with them having to temporarily flee the country and live as refugees over seas. As I understand it, the three of them did eventually come back, but ended up relocating to "Stick-ville" when they returned. They were probably trying to keep a low profile— I got the vibe from Josh that this was kind of his family's standard operating procedure: head down, chin up.

Anyways, Josh didn't give me the details on when his dad had passed away or exactly how. Maybe he had a fatal construction injury or something... I overheard Josh warning people about unfinished building projects and collapsed structures killing people— overzealous, selfishly ambitious projects with no end-game vision and even worse financial stewardship don't just waste time, money, and labor, they destroy livelihoods and ruin families. Maybe Josh was speaking from experience. Like I said, he didn't really go into detail about it. I'm sure his dad was a "head down, chin up" kind of guy; Josh did talk a lot about wanting to be like his father, to do what he saw him do and speak the way he grew up hearing him speak. He even insisted—repeatedly—that he was the spitting image of his father, "If you can see me, you can see my dad. What's in his heart is in mine. If you want to learn about my father, you don't have to look far: I'm right here and he's in me... He's always with me everywhere I go."

As I was saying, Josh was homeless when I met him. He didn't really like being in the city, but he always ended up needing to go there for one reason or another, usually around the holidays. He hated how commercialized the holidays had become, and had even made a big stink at the big church downtown when he chewed out the priests for robbing the people blind. He hated how they encouraged people to live in ways that put them further in debt, shamed them for it, and then couldn't be bothered to help anyone who was actually struggling— not even the locals let alone the immigrants and foreigners everywhere. (This latter group was always a sensitive subject for him, his experience as a refugee in early childhood probably marked him for life.)

Josh and his mom did, however, have a sizeable family. He had several cousins, aunts and uncles, and lots of friends that were as close as family to him. Even being homeless, Josh could make a friend out of anyone. He didn't care where you came from or what kind of mess you were currently in, he just wanted to help you get where you needed to go— where you really needed to go, not just where you thought you needed to go. Honestly, a lot of people didn't want to go anywhere else after meeting him, they just enjoyed hanging out with him. But Josh kept moving and kept encouraging others to do so also, one step at a time. Like I said, a "head down, chin up" guy. "It's not that the destination is unknown— the way leads somewhere, I promise you that— but if you knew all the turns at every bend you'd probably chicken out. There are no cowards where I'm going. And the journey isn't over until we get home." That last part seemed ironic to me. I kept wanting to remind Josh, "Bro, you're homeless. Where's home?" I don't think Josh thought of himself as homeless though, not truly anyways. I think he just saw himself as a man on the road, maybe a man on a mission. If he had a mission it was a mission to be a friend and make a friend, especially with those who have no friends. Josh was misunderstood a lot. I mean... a lot. But he was patient with those who didn't know any better. He wasn't afraid to speak bold words to you if you were some know-it-all who looked down on everyone else. Even then, a lot of people he cut into with sharp words ended up better for it. I guess they realized it was better to be told the hard truth than to go on making life harder for everyone else. (God, have mercy on us.)

Josh's cousins were weird. At least, the ones I had the good fortune to meet were. The one I saw the least (I heard he got locked up for contempt of court or something like that) might have been the weirdest. He was committed to wearing full leather every day— I mean, every single day, and it was hot outside y'all— it was not flattering. The smell wasn't as bad as you'd expect. Even though he spent almost all his time camping, he did bathe a lot. That man was all about taking a bath! He had a sweet tooth but didn't have much if any money, so he ended up mostly eating candied crickets or something like those big-booty ants covered in sugar cane. Honestly, I'm not sure what kind of bugs they were. Does it really matter? Crickets, ants, locusts, grasshoppers... whatever, man. Have at it, bro. 

Josh had another cousin, Johnny, who I saw a lot more often. (The weird leather-bound cousin above was also a John. I don't think they were very creative with their names in the family. They either reused the same old ones as always or else, on rarer occasions, though not as rare as you'd like to imagine, went with what "the voices" told them.) According to Johnny, he and Josh were practically inseparable, bosom buddies if you will. "Wherever he's going, I'm going. If he's in, I'm in. If he peaces out, I peace out." Except Johnny was kind of hot-headed and more ambitious than Josh... At least when I first started seeing him on the regular that's how he was. I don't think he knew any better then, but over time he did seem to chill out and take on the whole "head down, chin up" thing that Josh was all about. One of the things I always liked about Johnny was how he remembered everything. I mean, everything. But... again, I said they were kind of weird, it was like he remembered everything all at once simultaneously. As a result, even though he was very gifted and extremely insightful, he preferred to see you face to face. He loved the encounter with the person. It's not that he didn't write, he did... He just said that if he tried to write down everything he wanted to say, everything he was thinking about everything that had gone on, was now going on, and is definitely going to be going on, he wouldn't have enough hours in the day or enough pieces of paper or enough ink to get it all down. So, when he did write he wrote a lot of poetry, and loved to pack every single word and sentence and paragraph with as much meaning as possible. But, he always preferred to see you face to face. He just wanted to hang out with his friends in person and show them how much he loved them, any and every way possible. For all the things he had to say, or for all the things he probably could have said, he mostly just wanted you to know how much he loves you... And of course that Josh loves you even more and would be back around soon. A peculiar and very loving family, perhaps a peculiar love for a peculiar people.

Like I said, Josh was homeless. There was a group of ladies who helped him out all the time with whatever he needed, and he would stay with friends he met along the road sometimes. But he kept moving, said he had to get back to that city and those "churchies" that frustrated him so much. It wasn't that he didn't love them— Johnny made sure we didn't misunderstand that part— it's just it was so near impossible to share anything with them. They didn't have ears to hear it, I guess. Or, maybe they just couldn't see his heart (a timeless folly even the wisest among us fall into). He had so much he wanted to do for them, to give to them— he loved to serve and help— but they didn't want to hear anything from him. They didn't think he had anything they needed or wanted (except maybe people's attention). They just started worrying and called the cops whenever they heard he was around. Sometimes they did try to talk to him, but it was almost always antagonistic, trying to pick a fight with him or to get him to do something the police would actually arrest him for. That always backfired though, and several poor schmucks ended up becoming friends with him after crossing words with him anyhow. I think they were just jealous for how free he lived. They didn't seem to be very "head down, chin up" kind of people. More like, "foot down, nose up" kind of people.

... I wonder how he'll work it all out with them in the end. Josh always managed to get the day's trouble worked out one way or the other. 

Anyways... I once met a man named Josh. He and his cousins changed everything for me. I'm beyond grateful that Johnny helped me love the encounter with the person, especially his cousin, Josh (he'll be back around soon, Johnny says). Most days in this city I feel pretty homeless, even when my friends find a place for me. But, I know there's a destination to the journey. The way leads on to somewhere. Josh said the journey isn't over until we get back home. I'd like to see his home and meet his mother. Maybe between him and her and all the cousins and friends they've collected over the years they could help me be a better "head down, chin up" kind of guy. Maybe Johnny can help me talk to Josh again. Maybe Josh can show me the way to where he's going... The way home, I mean.