Pidgeon (standard:drama, 2963 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Apr 16 2019	Views/Reads: 1453/1012	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A kindly soul gives regular money to a vagabond, but what does he do with it?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


"Pidgeon?" 

"Yes, if you'll notice, all pidgeons ever seem to do is scavenge.
They're always on the lookout for food, like these fellers, always 
scavenging for stuff. You never see them doing anything else. Two years 
bumming his pound coin and then running off to spend it. Should I be 
jealous? Maybe he's saving up for a house. Or a dog. Actually, at least 
he hasn't got one of them. A bloody dog. Oh please look, I have a cute 
doggy, so please give money to me. If I said I'll buy  some beefy chews 
for your mutt, while I go into the shop, what's the chances of them 
saying 'Nah mate, I'll buy them, just give me the money?". 

"At least the dogs seem well looked after". 

The following morning, there he was, as ever, looking up at her as she
handed him his pound. 

"Aw thanks love". She was about to ask him how he was but he got to his
feet and scooted away into the tunnel beneath the road. She watched him 
vanish from view, wishing she could follow him, but then realised that 
even if she could, she wouldn't. 

The following morning he was there as ever, and she handed him a pound
in change. Twos and fives and tens. 

"Sorry I haven't got a coin," she said. "It's ok," he said, as he took
it, then headed away, through the tunnel. Beverley walked in to the 
coffee shop. 

The following morning, Colin was stood at the window as rain came down,
and wind pushed it at a slight angle, meaning the butcher's doorway was 
barely useful to stand out of its way, and Pidgeon was stood as hunched 
up as possible, waiting for Beverley. He didn't have to wait too long. 
He watched as she emerged from the underpass with an umbrella up, and 
saw her hand him his money, and said something to him. Pidgeon nodded, 
and disappeared into the tunnel. 

"What'd you say to him?" Colin asked as she settled at her desk. "That I
won't be here tomorrow. It's my day off". "Oh yes, I forgot. Didn't you 
say you were doing something?" "Going on a five-mile walk with Jan 
along the coast, then we're ending up at a garden-centre where she 
wants to buy a bird-table. There's a cafe there as well so we'll 
probably have lunch". Colin nodded. "How's she getting the bird-table 
home?" "I think they deliver. Not sure to be honest. I'd better just 
give them a ring to make sure". 

Colin watched the rain running down the window, watched the empty
butcher's doorway, and people generally going about their day. 
"....okay...thank-you, thank-you, bye" said Beverley, replacing the 
telephone reciever. 

"They do" she said. Colin nodded, then went back to his desk. Colin
noticed the following day, there was no sign of the vagabond, and 
wasn't in the least bit surprised. 

The following day Beverley got up late, and hurriedly prepared to leave,
and when she approached the underpass she got her money ready for her 
morning espresso and a pound for Pidgeon. However, she found she did 
not have enough for both. She could buy a drink, but Pidgeon would have 
to go without his money. Or give him his coin and do without her 
morning caffiene fix. 

Please don't be there, she thought, as she entered the tunnel. Please
don't be there...yet, halfway through, she saw him huddled there, and 
he looked and saw her as she approached. 

"Spare some change love," he asked, and Beverley reluctantly handed him
his coin, and headed straight across the road to work. "What's going on 
there?" asked Colin. 

"It was one or the other today. Couldn't afford both". "Aww...so it was
either coffee or smelly tramp. Coffee or coin. How can you go without a 
coffee in the morning anyway? It's impossible. There's no way you'll be 
able to do your job properly today. Our poor clients will get yelled 
at". 

Colin slipped on his jacket. 

"Go on then," he sighed, "What is it? an espresso?" "You're a star,"
said Beverley. "Yes, I know," he said. "It's pity your favourite bummer 
has ran away. I was about to hand him a load of ten-pound notes. Oh 
well..." Beverley couldn't help but smile, and Colin left the room. 

The next day, Pidgeon was there as normal. However, mooching around on
the other side of the road, hands in pockets and looking at the floor 
was another vagabond of a similar age to Pidgeon. When she handed over 
her pound, she half expected him to come over and ask for change, but 
he didn't. She went into the coffee shop as normal for her drink and 
came out to find them both heading into the tunnel, talking. 

"Better hope he doesn't start asking as well," said Colin, "and then his
mates will turn up, and then their mates will turn up, and you'll feel 
obliged to give them all a pound. Soon there'll be hundreds of bummers, 
and it'll be like a zombie apocalypse round here". "I'll just have to 
put my foot down," she said, hanging up her coat. "All I will give is a 
pound, and that pound is for Pidgeon. Pigeon...honestly Colin you've 
got me saying it now". 

The next day was as normal. The other man was not there. Yet, the
following day, Pidgeon was not there either. However, the day after, 
they were both back, but the other man again did not ask for change but 
kept his distance by the parked cars outside the office block. When she 
left the coffee shop they had both gone. 

Late on in the afternoon, Colin was leaning back in his chair as
Beverley was on the computer. "I wonder," he said, "how Pidgeon would 
fare in a place like this. Imagine if he came in here looking for a 
job. I'm afraid I'd have to boot him out". "If he was genuine," said 
Beverley, "Smartened himself up and got back on his feet". 
"Absolutely," said Colin. "I'm not knocking that. I'd welcome it. I'm 
all for giving people a chance, but if he got up from his doorway and 
came in here asking for work, I'd have to get security". 

"Well for all you know, he might have credentials for our kind of work.
You don't know that he hasn't". "We recruit for the catering industry. 
Can you honestly see him with a degree in psychology or medicine? and 
can you see him going to college or uni to get qualified?" 

"No," said Beverley, typing on the computer. "He's just fallen on hard
times, like so many others". 

"If they don't get themselves hooked on booze and drugs and who knows
what else, then they shouldn't have to beg. Half of them are smokers 
anyway, and have got dogs. So they've got some money at least. Your 
just paying them to feed their addictions. Here you go, have a drink on 
me. That's basically what your doing, and giving them money only 
encourages them to beg more". 

"It makes me feel good though. I know it's not much, and I suppose I
could do more, but it feels good to help out, to see the smile on their 
face when I give money". 

"Ok, yes, you could do more. You only live what...two miles away, so why
don't you give him the keys to your house. Let him stay the night, let 
him help himself to whatever's in the kitchen. Or at least get a 
shower". 

She smiled slightly. "No, as much as I like helping the needy, I can't
say I would trust him that much". "Needy?...I need a drink....I need a 
line of coke...I need a joint...." "Aw come on...I think he's genuine". 


"Right...ok..genuine? Let's meet up outside here at three o'clock in the
morning, and we'll go around the town, and the ones we see actually 
sleeping rough in doorways and in tents, they'll be the genuine ones, 
and I'd help them in a second. What d'you think the chances are of 
seeing ol' bummer out there in a sleeping bag in a doorway?" "You don't 
know that, he might be" 

"Ok, he might be, yes". He then pulled a sad face and held out his hand
to Beverley: "Spare some change pleeese..." 

In the morning Pidgeon's friend was by the cars again, looking at the
ground, scuffing his feet, and when Beverley went into the coffee shop 
they both headed away in to the tunnel. 

The following morning it was just Pidgeon. 

"Thank-you there love" he said, and Beverley had decided to ask him a
bit more about himself, why he was on the streets, but instead he just 
headed off into the tunnel, and she watched him vanish, then turned and 
walked to the coffee shop. 

The following day, he wasn't there. 

Nor was he there the day after. 

Or the day after that. 

"It's been four days," said Beverley, looking out of the window at the
empty butcher's shop doorway. "Don't tell me your worried about him," 
said Colin rifling through a filing cabinet. 

"Well, something might have happened". "Well yes, maybe he's made enough
money now. Doesn't need you anymore. Living the high life on the pounds 
he's got from you. In fact you'd better put the telly on. Breaking 
news. Missing bummer. No-one cares Bev. In fact you're probably the 
only one". 

"Yes," she said forlornly, looking around the area below. "I probably
am. Poor feller". 

"Poor feller! you know he'll be out there all day bumming. In fact he
might have nicked someones bottle of cider and got beaten up. Might be 
lying in a ditch somewhere crying out for the only person who cares". 
"Don't say things like that. He might be for all you know". "Please 
Beverley help me..." 

She meekly made her way back to her desk. "Anything could have
happened..." she said quietly to herself. The following day he wasn't 
there again. However, his friend was, looking suspicious as ever, 
hanging around the parked cars as if waiting for no-one to spot him so 
he could try the handles. As soon as Beverley saw him, she walked 
straight across to him. 

"Hi, what's happened to Pidgeon?" she asked. "Whaa...who? Who's
Pidgeon?" Beverley realised what she had said, and pointed to the 
butcher's shop doorway. "The one who sits..." "You mean Denno, 
Dennis....honestly that guy," He shook his head and smiled. "He's a 
lucky guy," he said. "Where's he gone?" she asked. "He's gone to 
London," the man said. "London because that's the place to go when 
you've got a few bob like. You see you gave him a pound every morning 
didn't you?" "Yes, I did", Beverley said. 

"He'd always go the betting shop and put your money on horses or dogs or
whatever, and sometimes in the machines. Every Friday though, it's 
lottery day, and he put the money on that. You see, the other day, he 
won. Jackpot. He had to split it with four other people, but he still 
walked away with 16 million". 

"He's a millionaire," said Beverley. The man nodded. "Like I said, lucky
feller". He saw that Beverley was holding a pound coin, and she saw 
that he was looking at that and almost subconciously she handed it to 
him. 

"Ta love" he said, smiling, then he turned and walked away, disappearing
around a corner. 

Beverley just stood there for a few moments, then slowly made her way to
the coffee shop. 

"No way!" said Colin, "You're messin....a millionaire". Beverley nodded.
"Put my money in the betting shop. Wins the lottery". Colin could see 
on Beverley's face that she was trying to contain disappointment. 
"Didn't even thank you did he? Didn't even give you your pound back. 
Just left with his money". Beverley nodded and sat at her desk. 

"If it's any consolation, people like him won't be able to keep hold of
that amount money for very long. It'll get conned off him. Or it'll 
just be robbed, and he'll be back up here begging for another pound". 
"Well, he won't be getting any more off me. You know, he never even 
asked me my name". Colin went back to his desk, knowing he had nothing 
to say to that. 

".....well it doesn't matter if you choose another agency over us. If
they offer you better rates then go to them then. It doesn't bother me. 
Make up your mind....ok, yes....so you'll stay. Good. Bye". Beverley 
put down the phone, and Colin was staring at her wide-eyed. "Our poor 
clients are going to recieve short-shrift from you today, and I think I 
know who to thank for that. Pidgeon". Beverly sighed and sat back in 
her chair. 

"Do you want to take the rest of the day off? I'll cover". "No," she
said, "What am I going to do? I'll just have him on my mind. At least 
I'm occupied here". Colin nodded, then Beverley's phone rang again. 

The following day, as she walked through the underpass, she saw
Pidgeon's friend crouched in the same doorway, and as she headed 
towards the coffee shop he looked up at her. "Spare some change there 
love..." Beverley looked him straight in the eyes and pointed her 
finger at him. 

"You, can fuck-off!," she said, and walked into the coffee shop.


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