A Two dollar Suit part 4-Dave Rose

Fletch could hardly get the top off and guzzle down the last of the nasty liquid that Wallace was sharing with him. He drained it and tossed it back to Wallace.

"Thanks buddy," he said to Wallace. "I best be goin... got to get going... yep... stuff an things... I got stuff an things to do...see ya round! Lay off the sauce a while."

"By mornings light , Wallace was burning up with fever. He managed to get up and get his cart loaded back up. He started out on his rounds. By mid afternoon he found himself over by the Second Avenue Assemblies. That is where the 'Miracle and Healing Service' was gonna be. He could hear the choir practicing. He walked down the side of the church. It was an older building. No air-conditioning...so even on a rainy day, there was no air circulation unless the windows were open. Wallace found a window on the side of the building, next to where the choir was singing. He felt so tired. The wheezing in his lungs was getting worse. He was coughing up more blood...and the fever was raging. He found a spot beneath the window and just sat and listened. It was like angels singing.

"Amazing Grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me..." sang the choir. Wallace felt every word of that...he felt like a wretch...he felt lost...he felt awful.

"Hey!" came a gruff authoritative voice. "Whats the idea sneaking round here...you some kinna prevert?"

"Well, no...its just that I thought, I mean...I was hoping for a chance at the miracle healing..."Wallace said meekly.

"Get out of here old man!" came the reply... "The only miracle you are gonna see is that I don't catch you and beat the living tar out of you for trespassing! Now get out of here before I call the police to come scrape you up and haul you away. Garbage! Thats all you are is GARBAGE! You get going or i'll..."

Wallace just stared in disbelief. It was the sweaty man that had hung the poster that had haunted Wallace's dreams the night before. Now this man was telling him that he wasn't welcome and that miracles can't happen for the likes of him. Maybe if Wallace sweated like the sweaty man did, mayge he could get the miracle then. He took a deep breath and held it. The sweaty man looked on in horror as Wallace's face turned beet red and then purple. It was no use though. Wallace was just too weak to sweat or protest. He grabbed on to his cart and started down to the street. A coughing fit started again and the sweaty man screamed!

"Get that diseased stinkin man out of here!"

That was when a couple of unfriendly looking young men came up behind Wallace and grabbed him and his cart and pushed them both towards the street.

"We don't let your kind round here. You stink up the place. Have a little self respect and go clean yourself up!"

Wallace started to say something to the young man who was yelling at him, but he flet a warm wet sensation on his backside. He had soiled himself. It had happened to him before.

"Oh man...he just messed himself!" the biggest fo the two young men screamed.
They threw him into the street, slammed the cart into his head. He saw stars for a moment and then another coughing spell came on him. He lay there in the street gasping for air as the three men, the two young guys and the short fat sweaty man, went back into the church. The choir started singing again..."It is Well...With my soul."

Wallace picked himself up and grabbed his cart. He had hit the lowest point he had ever been in at that moment. He couldn't tell what stung most...getting hit in the head with his own cart, or being thrown off the church property. he couldn't understand how something as sweet as the music that was coming from the window could not affect the hearts of the guys that threw him out. He shook his head. The dizziness was coming back. He was soaked to the bone with sweat and he smelled of his own waste. The fever was raging inside his body. He headed over to the recycling center. Maybe Tom could help him out. Give him a placeto get cleaned up. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a bath or a shower. Maybe if he cleaned up, got himself some decent clothes...maybe then, maybe heaven would let him into the miracle and healing service.

Tom looked up and saw Wallace struggling down the street. He laid down his clipboard and walked over to him. He got there just in time to catch Wallace as he passed out in the street.
Tom yelled to one of the guys in the center to come help him. They carried Wallace to the back of the building. There was a storage room with a cot in the corner. Tom got Wallace into the cot and sent for some water. He looked at his watch. He had promised his wife that he would take the afternoon off adn spend some time with her and their new baby.

"Wallace, you a mess buddy...we gonna fix you up!" Tom gently undressed the old man. he sent one of the guys next door to the goodwill store. Told him to get some pants. shorts, shoes and a shirt for Wallace. Tom stayed there and bathed his old friend. Wallae coughed and groaned. There was a lump on his head. Tom put some ice on it and continued washing who knows how many layers of dirt off of Wallace. The stench was overwhelming. There were a couple of times when Tom had to get out and breath in some fresh air. Wallace finally woke up after a couple of hours. His head was pounding but he felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time...clean.

"Hey Buddy, you doin better now?" It was Tom.