What’s it about?
Rain Glass is a simple story about two men of different backgrounds who meet in a park one rainy day. One helps the other realize an important lesson about life and happiness.
RAIN GLASS
by Lance Ong
__________________________
CHAPTER 1
HEART'S DESIRE
The rain poured onto the streets of New York. Old newspapers soaked into grey sheets of mush. George Hartley sits alone on a park bench in the showering rain. The surrounding trees and flora vibrate; pelted by water bullets. Holding a coffee and a cigarette, he hunches forward, takes in a slow puff, then exhales, and sips his drink. Water drips down his face. Up till about 20 minutes ago, George was a marketing executive who worked at the office on Fifth Avenue, a few blocks from here.
He looks at his Omega watch. It’s 2.35pm on a rainy Wednesday. Not really time to do anything or go anywhere. There was nowhere to go anyway. No work to do, no wife to love, no kids to take care of. ‘Total freedom finally,’ George mutters as he stretches back on the bench feeling the patter of the rain on his face; the warm wetness of his shirt and overcoat weighed him down. He closes his eyes and imagines what it would be like to sleep in the rain forever.
Minutes pass.
‘Hey man, mind if you move over?’ a voice shakes him from his dream. George observes the man for a moment – early twenties, dressed in tattered rags and smelling like liquor – obviously a hobo.
‘Sure, why not?’ says George. He moves over to one side of the bench, allowing the man the other half.
The hobo drops his bag onto the pavement and takes a seat on the bench. ‘Thanks fella,’ he says. George lets a slight smile but remains silent.
‘Nice day, isn’t it?’ the ragged man asks.
‘Yeah… it’s my first day taking a natural shower,’ George replies.
‘How’s it feel?’
‘Feels good.’ George smiles.
‘Glory of God, ain’t it? Nature is magic,’ the pauper holds out his hand to catch the rain. ‘This weather we curse is the same one that brings us life.’ He pauses and turns to George. ‘So what’s your story, paardner?’
‘I quit my job today,’ says George looking down sadly.
‘Quit yer job? That’s cool! Never needed one of those pieces of trash anyway!’ the hobo grins. ‘Look at me fella, I never went to school. I’m still doing fine. Mom & Pops died in a plane crash when I was fourteen! Been on the streets ever since.’
‘I see… I’m sorry.’ George’s eyes soften as he realizes there is someone in a worse plight than himself.
‘Why’d ya quit ya job? Got bored of it?’
‘Well,’ George sighs. ‘I really hate someone there. This guy just really got on my nerves. Arrogant bastard, I could almost strangle him.’ George rings an imaginary neck with his hands.
‘Then why didn’t you?’ The vagrant leans in with wide-eyed curiosity.
‘Kill the guy? Hah. Well, he’s my boss. If I killed him, everyone would know that, wouldn’t they?’
Silence passes as the two men go deep in thought. Only the sound of the rain slapping the ground and the rays of the sun can be felt.
‘Tell you what, my friend,” says George. ‘Are you hungry? Let’s take a walk and get a hot meal somewhere.’
‘Sure thing, I’m starving.’ the hobo says.
The two men stand up, helping each other with their bags; one a polished leather briefcase, the other a worn-out polyvinyl sack.
‘By the way, my name’s George, what’s yours?’
‘Samuel’s the name, you can call me Sam.’
*** *** ***
Walking into Smeg’s Deli, there are only a handful of diners at 3 o’clock. George asks the waiter for a corner table where it’s cosier. Sam follows from behind but the waiter stops him.
‘No problem there, he’s with me,’ says George, slipping a twenty dollar bill into the waiter’s hand. ‘Bring us the best beef you’ve got.’
Sam gives the waiter the middle finger as he passes. The waiter smiles politely.
They slump into the cushioned red leather seats, the polished teakwood table reflecting their faces. The atmosphere has a warm western feel, with wild fixtures like the bull head skeleton attached to the wall. In the corner, a golden jukebox plays pop country from Garth Brooks and Dolly Parton.
‘So why’d you hate your boss so much?’ asks Sam, tinkering his fork against an empty glass.
‘My boss…’ George’s face changes to one of displeasure. ‘Well, he’s an asshole; tried to steal my girlfriend.’ The ex high-flying executive clenches his jaws and drops his fist on the table.
‘And he got her! She left me because he was more successful, better looking, and a sweeter talker than I am.’
‘Oh, now I think you should kill him,’ nods Sam. ‘But do you think she’s really worth it? That girl and all? I mean, if she would leave you just like that, she’s probably the Queen of Gold-diggers!’
‘Don’t talk about Monique like that!’ snaps George. ‘We were about to be engaged.’
‘Mm, Monique sounds unique. But you’d really be in trouble then – she’d take all your money and run. Listen buddy, I may just be a homeless bum, but I know how to handle my bitch. You gotta let her know who’s boss!’
They make eye contact for a few seconds… then laugh together. George nods his head. ‘Yeah, she probably didn’t love me much. Probably wanted to squeeze me dry. Lucky I let that bitch take Aaron instead. I fed him to the dogs! But I can’t get over the feeling of losing to that asshole.’
‘What specifically does he have that you do not have?’ Sam asks thoughtfully.
George shrugs. ‘Better looks, more money, faster car? And my hot babe.’
Sam thinks for a moment then says, ‘Well, let me ask you this… 20 years in the future, how old will you be?’
‘55.’
‘Well, at 55, do you think those things will matter to you anymore?’
George puts his hand to his chin and ponders.
Sam continues, ‘At 55, your skin will be wrinkled like a prune. Your eyes will be so blasted; the only thing you can drive will be your lawnmower. You can still get hot babes with money, but I don’t think you can have fun without some help.’ Sam shows George a small gap with his thumb and index finger.
‘Little George can stand by himself, thank you.’
‘You know what I think is the problem with all you rich people?’ Sam points to the glass cup on the table.
‘Everyone starts out with an empty glass in life. It can hold anything you want. It’s your free choice to decide what you want to fill it up with. Some people like to drink whiskey. For others, clear water is best. Some people fill their glass to the brim, wanting to gulp down more experiences and more passion. Others fill it to half, preferring to save and savour what they get. You pick your pleasures… and whether it poisons you or helps you grow depends on the choice you’ve made. You decide whether whiskey is better than water or water is better than wine.’
Sam picks up the glass and observes it in the light.
‘You might have a beautiful life – you can be rich, have an excellent career, good health, great friends, and a deep relationship with your lover – yet like glass, it’s fragile and shatters on impact. Like how your skull cracks when you smash through your windscreen in a car accident. Was it your fault? Maybe not, you could have been killed by a drunk. But still, everything you’ve worked for until then has ended. Has your life been worth it?’
Sam puts the glass down and steeples his hands.
‘That’s why it’s important to realize that each day we are alive is a gift – treasure it; make the best of it. Many people can’t appreciate what they have… always looking for the bigger house, the better car, the prettier spouse. They can’t let themselves be happy until they have attained these imaginary must-haves. Life becomes a race to get nowhere.’
He looks at George and puts a hand on his shoulder.
‘You know happiness is a state of mind, don’t you? I can sit right here, owning nothing and feel good. Like how you were sitting in the rain, enjoying nature’s shower? All it takes is for you to find peace within yourself.’
‘You’re sounding awfully intelligent for a homeless man,’ George breaks his speech.
Sam chuckles, ‘Well, the streets teach you things. Plus, I like to visit your state library. It’s free, you know?’
‘Okay wait,’ George interrupts. ‘So if life is a glass, and glass is transparent; things should be crystal clear for me now, shouldn’t they? But they aren’t. I just quit my job, I don’t where to go, what to do…’
Sam pushes the cup into George’s hands.
‘Look through this.’ Sam instructs. ‘Do things look straight to you?’
George holds the whiskey glass up to his eye and sees a distorted fractal image of his surroundings.
Sam explains, ‘Like how a glass distorts images, our view of life gets distorted as we see only through our own eyes and are limited by our experience and point of view. This distortion affects your ability to see the possibilities in your life. So if you can expand your thinking – listen to others who have succeeded, travel more, read into new fields of knowledge, you will see more chances to get from where you are to where you can be.’
‘That’s easy to say,’ George replies. ‘You see, I have a unique problem. I have been working so long for my company; I don’t really know what to do with my life if I’m not working. How can I know where I want to be?’
Two sizzling hotplates of prime tenderloin steak arrive. Buttered baked potatoes and steamed broccoli with carrots on the sides.
‘Mushroom sauce please,’ Sam calls out to the waitress.
‘Black pepper for me,’ says George.
Sam slices his steak and puts it in his mouth, savouring the smoky sweet flavour of the beef.
‘Mmm, mmm. Never had food this good since ninety-nine,’ he mumbles through his juicy mouthful.
He pours a glass of ice water from the pitcher and takes a sip. Then answers George’s question on “being”.
‘To know where you want to be has nothing to do with your ability to see, but everything to do with what you feel. It’s about knowing your innermost desire. Like, why did you take black pepper sauce instead of mushroom sauce like me?’
‘Well, I like the taste of black pepper sauce; the spiciness adds excitement to every bite.’
The waitress brings the sauces and pours a generous serving for both men.
‘That’s right,’ Sam points out. ‘You liked it. It brought you excitement. Those are feelings. When something is right for us, there’s a natural sense of fun, engagement and interest. If it’s not right for you, you’ll feel disappointed, frustrated; even angry. How often do we not listen to our hearts and keep doing things that frustrate us?’
‘All the time...’ George mumbles.
‘You see that some people dislike their jobs, yet they put up with it for the income it generates. I’m glad you’ve freed yourself of a painful situation and given yourself the opportunity to finally do what you want. Life’s too short to be carrying grudges or be stuck doing something you hate. You’ve only got about 70 years to live your life to fullest. Now which image of your future or vision in your mind excites and inspires you the most? Have you ever searched your feelings while dreaming about these things?’
‘I don’t know… I… I guess I never tried.’
Sam sighs, ‘If you never try, you’ll never know.’
George frowns, then says, ‘You know Sam, if you have such a powerful mindset and can tell me how to live my life, how come you’re still a hobo?’
Sam purses his lips, taken aback by George’s comment.
The well-dressed executive continues, ‘Shouldn’t a man like you be living his life to the fullest? Why are you still on the streets?’
‘Well,’ Sam replies softly. ‘I like it here. This is my home. I have family on the streets. I don’t need to make a lot of money nor do I desire the high life. It seems pointless to me. Look at it this way… one man’s meat is another man’s poison. To you, perhaps my life is not ideal, but to me, it is fulfillment of my destiny. Maybe you might say what kind of destiny is that? But I’ll tell you, it’s the one I’ve chosen.’
George nods then smiles, ‘Thanks Sam, I see what you mean. You’ve given me a new perspective on things. I guess I owe you one.’
‘No problem, I thank you for this meal,’ Sam says warmly.
‘You know, if you need some help getting back on your feet, I know some people…’
‘Well, thanks George. I’m fine with my life as it is. This is a peaceful existence for me. I am listening to my heart’s desire; it’s where I want to be.’
‘I respect that. Thank you for helping me uncover a truth my friend. I have been fooling myself all these years into doing something I never really liked. It’s time to start afresh, and follow my heart’s desire.’
They finish a fine meal and bid their goodbyes. George slips a thousand dollar bill into Sam’s overcoat – for his friends and family on the street.
