Jean Claude

Today I remembered Jean Claude.

He had wrapped his fingers around the coin I placed in his tiny palm like he feared I would take it back again if I thought too much about it. I smiled and he moved on, continuing to beg down the crowded aisle.

“Do you want something to eat?” I found myself asking after turning around and realizing he had gotten off the bus with me.

“Yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jean Claude.”

“Ok, Jean Claude. Pleasure to meet you. My name is Alix.” He looked confused. I continued. “What would you like to eat?”

Still confused.

“Alright, how about Kentucky?” We were standing in front of a KFC.

His brow unfurrowed and the bud of a smile began to bloom. I took that as a yes.

He ordered 10 pieces of chicken, a large fry, mashed potatoes, and a salad. What he didn’t eat I made him promise to share with his family.

“My brother needs new shoes.” I knew this was coming. I tried not to listen to the silent story of jaded childhood he was telling behind the darkness of his deep, brown eyes. “And my sister needs pencils. My father has no job. My mother has no bread.” The pink flush peeking through the dirt on his cheeks made the color Red feel honored to be associated with such innocence and beauty.

“Do you have bus money to get home, Jean Claude?”

“No.”

“Ok, here you go. Goodbye Jean Claude. It was nice to meet you.”

And I walked away. I had to walk away. I could not wardrobe and educate his siblings. I couldn’t ensure that his family always had food on the table, or a roof over their heads. I could only buy him dinner. And learn his name.

I remembered Jean Claude today. And tonight all of the kids who can’t afford costumes or food will come into the center of the city to trick-or-treat for the candy that they will sell on the streets tomorrow.

Happy Halloween.