Relates to the next post, “PESB: A ‘woke’ excess.”

The story here is very similar to that of the opening chapter of Edwin Friedman’s Friedman’s Fables, “The Bridge.”

Friday 12/16/22, I got to Dunkin’ Donuts for the first time at about 11:00.  I normally do not bring my laptop’s charging cord on that trip.  I get a large frozen coffee, which takes me 90 minutes to consume; and after that, a medium frozen coffee, which takes me an hour to consume; I’m busy online the whole time, and at the end of that 90+60 minutes, my battery’s just about drained.  I go back to the shelter, take my meds, do my meditation and prayer time; pack up the power cord, and return to DD until supper.  But on this day, come 14:00, I was still on my first visit.

Here came Tom.  I’ve known him for years, from the previous shelter.  He’s short — It’s taken me some time to grasp that bullies pick on him sometimes because of that. — black as coal, has some cognitive deficits, has possibly some affective deficits also; stutters.  But he’s a really, really good guy, and has been a good friend.

Given the slings and arrows of life, the randomness of events, the last several months, he’s been sleeping outside.

We visited for a while, and he asked for, and I bought him, an extra large iced coffee and an apple fritter.  He put his things down by the table where I was sitting — and then asked me to watch them.  He said he’d be back in ten minutes.  Very, very much unlike me, I agreed.

I myself NEVER ask anyone to watch my things.  Some wholly unexpected circumstance might meet me during my errand, and that person would be left — literally — “holding the bag.”

Which is exactly what happened now.

My laptop battery was very nearly drained by now; in a matter of minutes, it would shut down on its own.  Then I would not just not be able to do anything online; I wouldn’t be able to use it at all.

Ten minutes came and went.  Then more time; then more time.

How to busy myself while waiting?  Had I gone back to the dorm at this juncture, I would have (1) taken my meds, (2) done the day’s first meditation, and (3) done my prayer time.  So I meditated now.  And did my prayer time now.  And waited.  With nothing to do.

Staying here to watch his things was about to interfere with my needs.

The time frame for checking one’s mail, on weekdays, is 14:00 – 16:00, and I’d not checked my mail for a couple weeks.  Today would be my last chance to do that this week.

If I stayed beyond 16:00, then what?  Supper is normally at 17:30.  Would I even get supper?

I looked at his things.  They consisted of a lightweight athletic jacket; a small grocery bag containing some trash and a pound of sliced cheese; and a pair of shoes he meant to sell or give away.

I determined to leave out, to go check my mail, at 15:45, whether he’d shown up or not.  After the mail check would come supper.  I’d come back to DD after that.

At 15:45, I got up to go.  I prayed over his things, for their safety; I prayed for him, for his safety; and left, without feeling any guilt.

It was still there at 18:20, when I got back from supper.

It was still there at 21:00, when the store closed.

Whether or not I had some obligation or duty or responsibility to stay there and watch Tom’s things, beyond the ten minutes, beyond my available free time; to stay there in interference with my own needs — was and is an invisible thing, if it had any real existence at all.  Maybe it existed on the astral plane, as a thing.  But it is analogous, I think, to the invisible debts or obligations the organizers of that conference seemed to think that the non-indigenous residents of the state of Washington today, have toward the indigenous persons who previously inhabited that land.

If it’s invisible, is it real?  Only the facts, the concrete What Is, is real.