A Man Named Charley

‘If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.’ -Henry David Thoreau, Walden

I sat on the T, worried over the many problems facing me for the day:
-A car that barely started and probably wouldn’t start when I got back to the station
-A new job on Monday in which I was starting to feel overwhelmed by already
-A cell phone that needed a new screen
-Traveling issues due to the car dilemma
-and more

Then Charley got on the T

Before he sat down a cute guy passed me by and I hoped he’d sit down in the empty seat next to me
He didn’t- Charley did
Greyhaired and and with a bushy greying beard, he sat down with his bag and sketch notepad on his lap
Almost immediately he started cracking up, all by himself
I looked around wondering if anyone else was noticing this breach of the code of common conduct
Everyone else- too afraid to break the code- too afraid to look interested in anything but themselves- just sat around, not daring to look
Charley spoke of Harvey and they had a convoluted, one-sided conversation
Everytime Charley would address Harvey he’d put his cane to his mouth
As I looked at the cane, I noticed a metal label with the words HARVEY engraved on it
Soon a young man, probably going to college in the city, struck up a conversation with Charley
He asked him questions as one does to those you think are mentally disabled
I think some of us laughed on the inside- mocking this man who dared to break out of the norm
Charley just ignored the laughter and kept it all up
The young man’s stop came and he said goodbye to Charley
Charley returned to his conversation with Harvey and many would take a glance and then go back to their shells

“I don’t even get paid for this”

He says it under his breath and what I had suspected all along is confirmed:
Charley is doing this in an effort to amuse random strangers
“look at the weirdo, the poor mentally disabled”
in the end, he is probably the only one who ususally knows it’s only a con. . .

As he goes to leave he says goodbye
“Goodbye Charley” I say
“Goodbye sweetheart” he replied

I think all along he knew- I’d caught on to him but I didn’t give him away

March to your own drum Charley, march to your own drum