A Two Dollar Suit Part 2 -Dave Rose

The center was about to close by the time Wallace arrived. Tom was waiting for him with a big smile. Tom had a warm spot in his heart for Wallace. He didn't know why. Just a shell. A dirty,
smelly, whiskey soaked shell of a man...but there was something about Wallace that touched Tom. He always added a little extra change to Wallace's earnings. Earnings, that was it! Wallace scoured the streets of this town, picking up trash, junk and stuff as if it were his job. In fact...if he didn't, this town would sure be a mess. Tom figured that in the last fifteen years, Wallace had single handedly kept the streets of this little burg clean enough that it was no wonder that it had won several awards for being so environmentally correct. Whatever that meant.

"Wallace, how are you buddy?" Tom called out to the old man gasping up the slope of the parking lot with his cart. He looked bad. Worse than Tom had seen him. "Whatcha got for me
today Wallace?"

Wallace looked up at the friendly face that called him buddy. Tom was a good man with a good heart. Wallace had nothing but respect and admiration for the man who had come to call him friend over the years. Wallace was wearing a coat that Tom had given him six winters ago.
It was new then. It had kept Wallace warm on those cold winter nights under the overpass on the hightway, or when the rain drenched him unrelentingly.

"I got a few cans, not much today." Wallace managed to gasp out.

"Wallace, I do believe that you have once again surpassed the ability of this community to generate enough litter and trash to do you any good, but lets see what you have and we'll see what we can do today." Tom smiled as he grabbed the thin garbage bag from Wallace's cart.
The bag was the same one that Wallace had used for several years. He never threw anything away. Everything had a use or reuse. Tom remembered when he had wadded up the bag as if to throw it away. Wallace got upset with him and made it very plain that the bag was not some piece of trash to be tossed aside, useless and empty, but that it was a possession that had a purpose that had a purpose and it was his property. Tom remembers apologizing and offering to give him a new one. Wallace said ..." I have one...I don't want another one...it wouldn't be the same. This one knows me...knows how to work with me..why its almost broke in...its almost part of me. Now gimme back my bag!"

The scale showed 1 pound of cans...not much. That came out to about 43 cents. Wallace hung his head in recognition of the fact of disappointment. "43 cents...can't do much with that" he thought to himself.

Tom saw the look on Wallace's face. He had come to know Wallace's ways and knew that despite the fact that no one would give him the time of day...that he still was a man of pride and wouldn't accept charity. he had to convince Wallace to take that old coat six years ago. Told him
it would be a personal favor if Wallace would take it off his hands, since he lost the receipt and couldn't take it back. Wallace only accepted it on the condition that he could work it off...do something for it. Tom let him sweep the office.

"Wallace," Tom said,"someone left this old shirt, shoes and socks in their bags of cans and my dumpsters full...could you toss em for me? Maybe you'll find a dumpster over by the grocery store that has room. I just hate to clutter up the place. Could you do that for me buddy?"

Wallace knew what Tom was doing. After 15 years, he knew Tom pretty well too. Nobody left the shirt, shoes and socks there...Tom either cleaned out his closet or bought them at the Goodwill store. It really didn't matter. What mattered was that Tom was showing him respect by not just giving them to him. Honoring his sense of dignity.

"Well sir, I guess i can do that for ya...but tell me...is 43 cents fair market value these days? I know this ain't a lot of aluminum butg a hard working fellers got to eat..know what I mean?"

Tom smiled. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a large wad of bills. he pealed off $5.00 and handed it to Wallace.

"Here..." Tom said, "Consider this labor and delivery fo dumpin my trash for me."

Again, with respect, Tom had seen through Wallace's pride and met his need. No questions, no 'don't spend it on drinkin' lectures...just respectfully treating him like an equal.

"Wallace, you be careful, its supposed to rain tonight...you want to..uh..you need a place to stay?"

"No thank you...I got a place. I'll be fine. god Bless ya for askin tho'! God Bless ya for askin! I better be on my way...I got stuff..you know..." his voice trailed off and another coughing fit started to seize his lungs. He pushed his cart off the lot of the recycling center and headed towards Muzzy's.