Righteous L.

Yesterday I finally couldn’t bear walking by the man who sleeps in the park in the freezing cold so I decided to turn back and talk to him, ask him what he needed that I could provide.

He asked me what I could provide.

I asked him if he chose to sleep there. He said he was framed spiritually and physically. I believe him. He asked, “What do you think I deserve?” I didn’t have an answer, but I in my head I knew what he didn’t deserve—to sleep on the streets. He doesn’t sleep there overnight, which I was relieved to hear (because the temperature in Bostonian winters can be brutal). He said he sleeps during the day, in the morning when it’s very busy. At night is when he keeps his eyes wide awake, and he does all his thinking then, and also his writing. I see him sometimes in the daytime, under the covers, reading magazines and newspapers. Once he even waved at me. He had an issue of Improper Bostonian and the Scout Somerville—he said it was important to know what’s going on around us.

I asked him again what he needed, and he said for me to sing him a song. But I was embarrassed so I asked for something else. He said a gallon of water that’s sealed. Done.

He asked me to describe myself, because he wouldn’t show his face, so he couldn’t see mine. He also asked my birth month and date and told me I was balanced, and vertical, or vertigo, I forget. But he said I was balanced, which was interesting because I think I’m trying to seek balance.

He told me to call him Righteous, Righteous L. L as in l-o-v-e. L Mac L. Maybe that’s his professional name. He writes songs. He said his latest song is about communication.

We also spoke a bit about God. He asked me if I had a higher power in my life–I told him I wasn’t sure. Then he said the most interesting thing I’ve ever heard from a religious person which is that he isn’t into any religion. He just loves God and believes in God. L started talking about Jesus and Mary, so maybe he refers to God of the Bible, but maybe just doesn’t prescribe to any particular institution.

Before I left to get him his water (a steak bomb grinder, some fruit, a couple granola bars, and a bag of pennies my cousin wanted to donate if I thought L wouldn’t mind pennies), he thanked me for conversation. Inside my heart, I also thanked him for conversation. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it. I wish I had said it out loud.