I had a weird encounter last night. I was waiting at the bus stop (a big empty cavity in a long line of rundown buildings surrounded by strip clubs, casinos and homeless people of various unfortunate dispositions) and this 70-year-old man in a white suit and vest sits next to me and sparks up a conversation. Not much of his hair is left, so he has this comb over that goes from one side of his head to the other and all the way around to the back. It still doesn´t cover up much. The faded white of his eyes and hoarse breathing is more or less a sign that his body is running out on him. I had trouble understanding him because his voice cracked and he spoke very softly, but he happily told me about how he writes books (and pulled some out of his old leather briefcase to show me), how most English speakers are pompous (but how I´m different), and how wonderful it is to live in Coronado. I wasn´t sure if he was about to sell me something or if he just wanted to talk to someone, so I kept up the talk while we waited for the bus. Then he asks me if I have found El Señor, the Lord, and trust Jesus Christ. Of course, I know better from my encounters with random old people in Alabama to say yes to this question, and he just lights up and elbows me saying ¨Que bueno muchacho.¨ As we´re getting on the bus he says something along the lines of ¨You´re going somewhere señor, kindness and goodness will take you there!¨

He sat in the back of the bus and I sat up front. I don´t know if that was rude but I still wasn´t sure if he was going to start asking how much I wanted to buy his book for. 45 minutes later we were in Coronado, and I got off the bus. I had walked about half a block when I had this feeling to turn around and look behind me. The old man, Manuel, was flat on his back in the street. He didn´t budge an inch, even as cars came swooping by his head, sharply veering to the left as they came up on him and noticed him. I ran back up the street and stood over him asking if he was OK. He opened his eyes and looked at me. ¨I fell. I fell. I fell,¨ he kept saying. So I reached my hand out and lifted him to his feet, and asked him again if he was alright. ¨Sí señor, por supuesto!¨ with the smile and tone of a man who did not just fall off a bus and almost get run over. At that moment I knew he was eccentric but completely genuine. After a few other words I told him goodnight and started to walk off, then with what effort he had in his lungs he shouted back at me ¨Just like I told you, young man! Kindness and goodness!¨ Then he walked up the street, turned the corner and was gone.

The end.