sorry for everybody. Y'know. I
always say everybody was once somebody's baby. Y'know what I'm saying, Steve?"
"I know." I try
unsuccessfully to get the attention of a waitress going by.
"Even the guys who killed
somebody, Steve. They was somebody's baby too. Y'know what I mean? I used to go
down to the cells to talk to them. I remembered one guy who killed his whole
family. He looked at me through those bars and you know what he said, Steve? He
said, 'I need help.' Y'know. It does something to you inside when you hear
stuff like that."
I put my elbow up on the table.
"I know, Tommy." I've always thought Tommy was a very nice man, but
his penchant for repeating trite and obvious things is really irritating. The
sad truth is that Tommy is not too bright, and while everybody likes him,
almost nobody respects him. Jack and the others are using the gathering more as
a union meeting and a drinking session than as a chance to say good-bye.
"So, Tommy, what're you going
to do with yourself now that you're retiring?" I ask, taking a cigarette
out of my shirt pocket and thinking about a stroll over to the cheesecake
display.
"I dunno, kid. Y'know..."
"Are you gonna travel?"
"Nah, kid, I was in de
merchant marines. I seen the world already."
"Oh. Do you have family you're
gonna stay with?"
Tommy tries to keep his chin from
sagging and his eyes from dropping. "Nah. I really don't have much family
around, Steve. Y'know. I got a room around the corner from here. That's where
I'm gonna be most of the time."
I start to get depressed as Tommy
explains that he's actually looking forward to spending the rest of his days in
the tiny room. "It'll give me a chance to catch up on a lot of
things," he says, like he's trying to convince himself it won't be so bad.
"I gotta catch up on watching television. They got some good programs on now..."
I don't know. It seems like a
frustrating end to an unsatisfying life. I hope I don't wind up like Tommy. I
wonder what, if anything, he has to show for all his years on the job.
"Tommy, can I ask you
something?"
"Sure, sure, kid. Fire away.
Anything you want."
"Well, you've been a probation
officer a long time, right?"
"Long time, Steve. Very long time.
Y'know. More than twenty years. Ever since I got outta de merchant marines."
"Okay." I put up my hand
to interrupt him. "And you've seen a lot of clients in that time. Probably
thousands of them..."
"Sure, thousands, kid."
Tommy bobs his head up and down furiously like a doll on a car's dashboard.
"Thousands..."
"And a lot of those people
were in terrible trouble when you met them, right? Like they'd really messed up
their lives. They were really at the end of their rope ..."
"Absolutely, kid, absolutely."
With the way he's bobbing his head, I worry Tommy's about to sprain his neck.
"So tell me something, Tommy.
How many of those people did you really help? I don't mean giving them bus
fare, or getting a summer job for a kid who didn't commit that serious a crime
in the first place. I'm talking about actually turning somebody's life around.
Giving hope to somebody who was in total despair. Do you know what I'm talking
about?"
Tommy's head stops bobbing and he
gives me a hurt look. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about," he
says slowly.
"So I was just wondering what
you had to show. Can you name one person who you really helped that way? Did
you ever change somebody's life?"
Tommy looks glummer than ever. He
pokes his cheesecake a couple of times with his fork and then puts the fork
down. "I dunno, kid," he says after a very long silence. "I
guess I gotta think about it a little. I never thought about it like that."
I'm sorry I asked the question. I
didn't mean to make Tommy feel so bad. I only wanted to know what I might have
in store for the future. Better to leave it alone now. I try once more to get
the waitress's attention, but she still won't look at me.
"Excuse me a minute, Tommy.
I'm gonna go to the counter and get a beer. You
always say everybody was once somebody's baby. Y'know what I'm saying, Steve?"
"I know." I try
unsuccessfully to get the attention of a waitress going by.
"Even the guys who killed
somebody, Steve. They was somebody's baby too. Y'know what I mean? I used to go
down to the cells to talk to them. I remembered one guy who killed his whole
family. He looked at me through those bars and you know what he said, Steve? He
said, 'I need help.' Y'know. It does something to you inside when you hear
stuff like that."
I put my elbow up on the table.
"I know, Tommy." I've always thought Tommy was a very nice man, but
his penchant for repeating trite and obvious things is really irritating. The
sad truth is that Tommy is not too bright, and while everybody likes him,
almost nobody respects him. Jack and the others are using the gathering more as
a union meeting and a drinking session than as a chance to say good-bye.
"So, Tommy, what're you going
to do with yourself now that you're retiring?" I ask, taking a cigarette
out of my shirt pocket and thinking about a stroll over to the cheesecake
display.
"I dunno, kid. Y'know..."
"Are you gonna travel?"
"Nah, kid, I was in de
merchant marines. I seen the world already."
"Oh. Do you have family you're
gonna stay with?"
Tommy tries to keep his chin from
sagging and his eyes from dropping. "Nah. I really don't have much family
around, Steve. Y'know. I got a room around the corner from here. That's where
I'm gonna be most of the time."
I start to get depressed as Tommy
explains that he's actually looking forward to spending the rest of his days in
the tiny room. "It'll give me a chance to catch up on a lot of
things," he says, like he's trying to convince himself it won't be so bad.
"I gotta catch up on watching television. They got some good programs on now..."
I don't know. It seems like a
frustrating end to an unsatisfying life. I hope I don't wind up like Tommy. I
wonder what, if anything, he has to show for all his years on the job.
"Tommy, can I ask you
something?"
"Sure, sure, kid. Fire away.
Anything you want."
"Well, you've been a probation
officer a long time, right?"
"Long time, Steve. Very long time.
Y'know. More than twenty years. Ever since I got outta de merchant marines."
"Okay." I put up my hand
to interrupt him. "And you've seen a lot of clients in that time. Probably
thousands of them..."
"Sure, thousands, kid."
Tommy bobs his head up and down furiously like a doll on a car's dashboard.
"Thousands..."
"And a lot of those people
were in terrible trouble when you met them, right? Like they'd really messed up
their lives. They were really at the end of their rope ..."
"Absolutely, kid, absolutely."
With the way he's bobbing his head, I worry Tommy's about to sprain his neck.
"So tell me something, Tommy.
How many of those people did you really help? I don't mean giving them bus
fare, or getting a summer job for a kid who didn't commit that serious a crime
in the first place. I'm talking about actually turning somebody's life around.
Giving hope to somebody who was in total despair. Do you know what I'm talking
about?"
Tommy's head stops bobbing and he
gives me a hurt look. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about," he
says slowly.
"So I was just wondering what
you had to show. Can you name one person who you really helped that way? Did
you ever change somebody's life?"
Tommy looks glummer than ever. He
pokes his cheesecake a couple of times with his fork and then puts the fork
down. "I dunno, kid," he says after a very long silence. "I
guess I gotta think about it a little. I never thought about it like that."
I'm sorry I asked the question. I
didn't mean to make Tommy feel so bad. I only wanted to know what I might have
in store for the future. Better to leave it alone now. I try once more to get
the waitress's attention, but she still won't look at me.
"Excuse me a minute, Tommy.
I'm gonna go to the counter and get a beer. You
Similar Books
