Chapter 15: Death Interrupts Life and Chapter 16: The Final Flush

Chapter 15:  Death Interrupts Life

            Quincy continued fulfilling his plan.  At times he felt discouraged, but he never lost faith that he was having some small effect.  Weeks went by, and summer vacation arrived.   Quincy redoubled his efforts and worked himself near exhaustion trying to bring happiness to others.  But still he saw no results.  The people he interacted with smiled for him, but he did not see others following his example. 

            It wasn't until near the end of his summer that Quincy was finally about ready to give up on his mission.  He enjoyed seeing the people he helped smile, but couldn’t help but feel the efforts were forgotten moments after he left.  One day while walking home, as he contemplated giving up, he saw a familiar face in the distance.  But it was not the usual street hardened, emotionless face that he remembered.  No, this face was filled with fear. 

            Quincy broke into a quick jog and got to Shaquana as quick as he could.  When he reached her, she was in hysterics.  She pulled him into the alley. 

            “They tryin to kill me.  They said I be dealing on they turf, and they 'z trying to kill me.  When your father disappeared, a new supplier took over his turf, and they tried to push me out.  I found another supplier, and he assured me he could protect me.  Now he be dead, and I be joining him before long.”

            “Well, I can hide you at my house.  You can come with me.”

            “I can’t, I have to make sales.  My baby has been sick lately.  I have hospital bills to pay, and if I can’t pay em, then I can’t be going back to the hospital.  I gotta find a new place ta sell.”

            “You’re risking your life, your child isn’t going to have a mother soon if you don’t stop.  Will these people keep looking for you?”

            “I don’t know.  I guess so.  But it’s a big city.  It’ll take em a while to find me.”

            “And then what, you run again… or you die?  Isn’t there any other way?”

            “Look, you need to get out of here, and I need ta get outta here.  They were only a few blocks away last time I saw them.  Don’t worry about me, I ain’t your concern.”

            “But I will help you.”

            “I said I can take care of myself, now get outta here before they find me.  I don’t need your help.”

            “Fine, get out of here.”

            Quincy turned his back and began to walk away.  He was done trying to help Shaquana.  But out of the corner of his ear he heard a voice shout, “she’s over here.”  As he turned he saw a man with a gun pointed at Shaquana.  Without thinking Quincy turned back around and started running towards Shaquana.  She had taken off down the road, but the man was gaining on her.  He had fired off a few shots, but they had missed.  Then, without apparent reason, Shaquana tripped.  His first thought was why had she tripped, but then he quickly discarded that thought and realized she was in trouble.  The man had gained enough ground on her that he had a clear shot at her.  Quincy darted toward Shaquana, not at all sure what he would do should he get to her.

            As Quincy ran and neared where she had fallen, he saw the man raise his gun, point it straight at her back and he heard the trigger click.  Time froze in that moment.  Quincy could see the bullet breaking through the air.  He could not hear it, but he saw it in slow motion gliding directly at Shaquana.  Inch by inch it approached her back.  She hadn’t even regained her balance enough to realize it was coming at her.  By the time she was able to turn around and see what was happening it was too late.  The bullet had lodged itself directly into the chest of Quincy who had dived just in time to block the bullet.  His last thoughts were, I have no children to take care of, and no one who needs me.  Realizing that he had missed his intended target, the man approached closer to the dying boy and Shaquana.  But as he did this, people appeared out of their houses and the alleys.  They swarmed the street and the man realized he didn’t want to give them any more time to memorize his face.  He ran off in the direction he had come from.

            But back at the scene of the crime, Quincy lay dying.  The bullet barely missed striking his heart, but had hit close enough that he had little time left.  Shaquana was above him telling him to hold on, as she intermittently shouted for someone to call an ambulance.  Quincy, slightly in shock, kept repeating the same words over and over again.  “I tried to make a difference, I tried.” 

            As he lay there dying, a few people pushed through the crowd and walked up to Quincy.  He felt as though he recognized their faces.  A few of the people had buckets in their hands, with roses sticking out.  One lady had a bag of subway tokens.  Another had a few open packages of wild flower seeds.  As they approached Quincy, he forced a smile to his face despite the pain.  He asked one lady with a bucket of rose, “Did I earn a rose?”

            “You’ve earned a garden of roses!”

            “But then there is so much work left to do.”  Quincy finished these words as he seemed to fade out of consciousness. 

            Moments later an ambulance arrived and Quincy disappeared from their lives. 

            Shaquana gave a police report, and took a long walk thinking about what her life had come to.  She walked long and far and though she knew Quincy was dead, she saw him on the streets of Philadelphia.  Every few blocks she saw neighbors helping each other out.  She saw random people carrying roses.  And she heard people talking about free subway rides. 

            As she reflected on what had passed, tears streamed down her face.  Quincy was dead and it was because of her.  Had she only stopped selling drugs when she had first met him.  If she had only listened to the obvious truth, he would still be alive.  As she cried, an old gray haired man approached her.  He handed her a rose and smiled. 

            “My dear, it wasn’t just his garden to tend to, he simply needed to show us how to get started.  It is our garden now.  He’ll live on in us.”

           

Chapter 16:  The Final Flush

And somewhere in the city of Philadelphia sits a solitary urinal attached to the wall in a hallway connecting two parts of the subway.  There is no urine smell, it has been replaced by a plaque that reads in both English and in Braille, “In honor of the eternal optimist:  we are smiling thanks to you!” 

           

Chapter 14: Tending to His Garden

Chapter 14: Tending to His Garden

            A week had past since his gardening lessons, and Quincy had planned today to be the day that he started his efforts to bring happiness to the city.  It was early Monday morning, on the first day of his spring break, and Quincy was down standing on the sidewalk outside his apartment. In his hand was a large bucket.  His first victim approached.  A large boned female was walking straight at Quincy, and as usual had made no eye contact.  Her face was stone cold, and showed no emotion.  As she neared, Quincy reached into his bucket and pulled out his surprise.  The woman, prepared for the worst, through up both arms as if to fend off an attack.  Her face looked as if she were ready to tear Quincy to shreds if he tried anything.  But the fear and anger in her eyes melted away.  In Quincy’s hand was a yellow rose with a little letter tied on with a string that read, “Have a wonderful day!  Share a smile!” 

            “What is this for?” she asked.

            “I simply want to wish you a great day.  Nothing more.”

            “You mean you don’t want any money, and you aren’t promoting any cause?  And you aren’t planning to rape me?”  She asked.  It was clearly hard to let go of her preconceived notions about anyone who attempted to talk to her on the streets. 

            “Happiness is the only cause worth promoting.  I only ask you donate a smile to me, and a few more to others.”  And from above, a voice shouted “Have a good day’ as if to compliment the process.

            “If only there were more people like you in this city!”  The woman glowed as she walked away. 

            Quincy couldn’t help but feel as though he had succeeded, even if making that one person happy was all he ever achieved.  But as the day continued, he had more of the same success.  A few people were too suspicious to accept the rose, but many that did lit up like they had won a million dollars.  They were shocked that someone simply wanted to wish them a good day.

            Yet, this was only part one of his plan to bring happiness to the masses.  Part one of his plan would from now on be giving out roses on the sidewalk.  Tuesday would be an entirely different plan of attack. 

            When he woke up the next day he got an early start.  He had lots to do!  He had bought a huge pack of sliced meat, chips, plastic baggies, paper bags, and bottled water.  With this, he made as many lunches as he could.  He had several backpacks full and stuffed in his refrigerator by the time 10:00 rolled around.  At that time, he put one backpack on his back and carried his bike down the stairs.  Every person he saw asking for change, he stopped and gave them a lunch.   Some of them thanked him, others hugged him, and he even got a few dirty kisses on his cheek from an elated homeless man who claimed it was the first time he had a whole sandwich in months.  He did note that this was in exception to the time he used ketchup to glue together 13 or so unfinished sandwiches and made one whole one.  But Quincy reassured him that if such a rulebook existed on sandwiches, it was not likely that the said creation would qualify as a complete sandwich. 

After giving out each sandwich, Quincy only asked that each homeless person smile at some of the people passing him or her by.  And by the end of the day, Quincy had felt as though the second part of his plan was a small success as well. 

The third day was a complete failure.  How was Quincy to know that the people double-parking their cars would not like to have them relocated in a bonafide parking spot?  Though, Quincy was rooted for by the people who were sick of weaving in and out of parked cars in the middle of the road.  Still, Quincy decided it was best that he hide out at home for the rest of the day, in case the death threats made by the double-parkers were not just hypothetical. 

            On day four Quincy realized he was running out of money so he decided to search the house.  He was sure that his dad would have some money hidden around the house.  He found more sugary looking products than he could find in a bakery, but was having little luck finding money.  Only shortly before he was planning to give up, Quincy stumbled on the mother load.  In his fathers walk-in closet he found a life-sized dummy doll laying face down.  It was dressed in his father’s clothes, resembled his fathers features quite a bit, and had a needle stuck in one arm.  Quincy was sure that his father must have used it to demonstrate to others how to use the drugs that he supplied to dealers.  In the back pocket of the dummy was a wallet.  It looked exactly like his fathers and it was filled with dozens of hundred dollar bills.  Quincy assured himself he would never steal from his father, but he was quite sure the extremely lifelike doll wouldn’t mind.  Quincy would have loved to continue justifying his actions, but the room smelled awful.  He wasn’t sure what the smell was, but he decided he rather not find out. 

            With the money, Quincy was sure he could carry out his plan for a few weeks.  Today, Quincy planned to bring smiles to the subway.  He arrived at the subway in time to see the morning rush.  But he did not enter the gates; instead he purchased a thousand tokens and let as many people as he could ride the subway for free.  He was sure he was guilty of a major crime, because people were smiling while at the subway station and it was because of him.  He had never heard the words thank you used so many times in all his days spent traveling the streets of Philadelphia.  On the other hand, he’d never heard anyone say thank you at all.

            With another success under his belt, Quincy looked forward to day five of his plan.  Day five’s plan is what Quincy referred to as Buffet Day.  There was no specific plan for how he would brighten the lives of his fellow citizens.  Instead, Quincy planned to make himself useful in anyway possible. 

            He started the day off by helping an old woman carry her groceries into her house. At first she refused to accept his help, but she quickly realized that Quincy had no use for her grownup diapers and the stockpile of frozen juice.  So she agreed to allow him to help.  Quincy denied her attempt to pay him a quarter for his help, and insisted the only payment he wanted was a smile.  

            After this, Quincy picked up trash along the sidewalk, and swept an entire block.  He knew that it would be a mess by the next day, but those who trekked past today would enjoy one block of clean sidewalk.  After this, he ran to the local hardware store and purchased a few packages of wild flowers seeds.  The weather would be warning up soon and so he thought it would cheer people up to see signs of life as they walked down the street. 

            Throughout the rest of the day, Quincy held the door for anyone he could.  He helped strangers with their daily tasks.  He tucked in a few homeless people taking a noontime nap on park benches.  Anything he could do to help people, he did. 

            Quincy planned to continue doing his efforts on the weekends, now that his spring break was ending.  He figured he could alternate between his first and second day one weekend, and his fourth and fifth day every other weekend.  He had decided to throw out his third day due to unfavorable responses. 

Chapter 13: The Plan

Chapter 13:  The Plan

            After the meeting with Dr. Rush, Quincy’s life went on as normal.  But in the back of his mind he was constantly trying to figure out what exactly he could do at least to try and make the world a better place.  What would have the greatest effect?  He wondered if he could get people to stop doing drugs or drinking, but knew that this was a difficult task for even those who want to quit and the people around him did not seem to want to quit.  Maybe he could start an anti-litter campaign, but would that really do anything about the major problems in Philadelphia. 

            The harder he thought, the more discouraged he became.  Was there anything he could do that would matter?  What was the source of all the problems?

            Then one day Quincy had a revelation.  On his way to school he passed by a house with a little tiny garden.  It was rare to see any sort of vegetation in Philadelphia, but few people were lucky enough to have a tiny plot of land to grow flowers or whatever they wanted.  In this particular garden there was an old man bending over and pulling up something.  Then Quincy realized that the old man was the strange man who had told him that his eyes were not open.

            Before Quincy could pass by, the old man looked up at Quincy and their eyes met.  Quincy knew there was no escaping.  He could not pretend he had not noticed the man, but he couldn’t help but feel a little scared of him.  He hoped he could continue on and avoid this spot from now on, but luck was not visiting Quincy today.

            “How does the world look today?”  asked the old man.

            “What do you mean?  Who are you?”  Quincy replied.

            “What I mean is that your eyes have opened.  Finally, you can see.”

            “I have always been able to see, and my eyes are always open when walking around.  Otherwise, how would I see?” 

            “Never mind that, have you ever had a garden?” 

            “No, I spent most of life in an apartment, and there wasn’t any place around my apartment complex that would have been available for planting.”

            “Well, this tired old man could use some help.  If you wouldn’t mind I’ll gladly pay you.”

            Quincy looked at the old man.  He tried to gauge if there was any evil intent behind the old man’s invitation.  Then he looked at the old man’s arms to see how strong the man was.  Quite confident he could defeat the old man in a fight, Quincy decided that his good nature would not allow him to turn down the request of the man.

            “Sure, I have a little time before I need to be at school.”

            “Wonderful, I need you to help me weed my garden.”

            Quincy opened the gate allowing him to enter the man’s fenced in plot.  And he got down on his haunches and began to help weed.  The first weed he saw, Quincy yanked on and pulled off just the upper portion.  Almost instantaneously the old man grabbed Quincy’s hand.  Quincy was glad that he had drunk very little that morning, since his bladder nearly hit the release valve. 

            “What are you doing?  Have you never weeded a garden before?  First off, do you even know why we have to weed?”

            “Well, no, like I said, I’ve never had a garden before.”

            “Oh, yes, you must excuse me.  My age has brought agitation with it, and my surroundings do little to help.  Anyway, the reason we must weed the garden is to prevent weeds from stealing the nutrients and sunlight that help the flowers grow healthy and beautiful.  If allowed to grow, the weeds will slowly destroy and overrun the garden.  But if checked, the weeds can be eliminated, though we must be ever vigilant to ensure the weeds do not return uninvited.”

            “I thought that was what I was doing.  I was pulling out the weeds as you asked.”

            “You were only pulling out the top of the weed.  You left the most important part behind, the root.  If left, the root will sprout the weed again and again forever.  Like a hidden cancer, the root will plot to destroy your garden time and time again until you take your battle to the root.  Only then have you defeated the source of the weed.  When tending to your garden, you must remove the root of the weeds, or you have simply made a temporary cosmetic fix.  Underneath the ground evil will be plotting its revenge.”

            Being a little overwhelmed by the old man’s melodramatic description of the importance of weeding, Quincy replied, “You take gardening very seriously.  But I will do as you ask.”

            Quincy went on to remove as many roots as he could.  He felt as though he was doing something extremely valuable even though removing a few weeds seemed like a minor task.  After several minutes, the weeds were all removed. 

            “Thank you for you help.  I hope you’ll stop by and see the garden when it is in bloom.  I will be watching your garden as well.”

            Not sure what the old man was talking about, Quincy smiled, said “You’re welcome” and continued on to school.

            As he walked to school he replayed the mornings events over in his head.  What a strange beginning to his morning.  It was the first time he had ever been engaged by conversation on his way to school.  Usually people were too busy frowning or ignoring everyone else to allow a conversation to begin.  The other strange part was that he had never seen that garden before.  In all the days he had walked to the subway, he had taken that same route, but had never noticed the garden.  And it wasn’t like there were plenty of gardens to see.  So he felt as though it should have stood out in his mind.  

            Picking up where he had left off, Quincy struggled with where he could start his mission to change his world.  He wondered if the problems of the city had a root.  A place that if altered would lead to a chain reaction.  What caused the city to be such a horrible place?  Why is it that people were so cruel towards each other?  The more he thought about it the more he believed that unhappiness was the root of the tragedy unfolding around him.  People that are happy with their lives are less likely to need something like drugs or alcohol to make them happy.  And people that are happy will probably be more likely to care about the place they live in.  They probably won’t litter or consent to living in dirty disgusting conditions.  Quincy had discovered the cure: a smile!  If only he could make people smile, make them happy so that they inspired others to be happy.  Then maybe they would take better care of themselves and those around them. 

            But how could he make others happy.  He didn’t have the time to go around from person to person making sure that everything in their lives was going well.  He needed a plan that would allow him to make a few people's day a little better and then in turn those people would make another person’s day a little better and so on and so forth.  In the end, the happiness would cycle back to the original person. 

            Quincy couldn’t fight off the feeling that the old man had been trying to get him to see this through the gardening lessons.  It seemed far too random an occurrence to not have been planned with a purpose.  Maybe the old man would have some advice.  Quincy turned around and began walking back to the site of the garden.  He must have passed it as he ended up back at his house. He tried walking back the same route as he had before, but no sign of the garden.  The harder he tried to figure out what was going on, the more confused he felt.  At one point he was sure that he had arrived at the place where the garden had once been. 

            Not sure what would happen, Quincy decided to knock on the door.  After a few seconds, a middle-aged woman opened the door.

            “Can I help you?”  the woman looked a little suspicious of Quincy.

            “I’m sorry to bother you ma’am, but I feel almost certain that there was a garden around here somewhere and I thought you might be able to tell me where it was.”

            The woman’s face turned a little pale, there was signs of fear in her eyes.  “I have to admit, I’m a little freaked out by this, but I think I have a letter for you.  It came in the mail the other day and it was addressed to ‘the boy looking for the garden.’  So I’m assuming that is you.  Let me get it.”  Still unsure of what was going on, the woman closed and locked her door as she went to get the letter. 

            While he waited, Quincy thought about how sad it was that people had to lock their doors with deadbolts, security systems and more just to make sure that they were safe in their own homes.  As he thought about that, the door opened again and the woman handed him the letter through the small crack in the door allowed by her chain bolt.   Quincy took the letter and smiled.

            “Thank you. I’d tell you what is going on, but I’m just as confused as you are.  I was sure that there was an old man out in a garden right here next to your building.  And how someone could have known that I’d come asking about a garden that clearly doesn’t exist is beyond me.  But thank you again.”

            “Yeah, that sounds pretty crazy, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I close the door and lock it.”  The lady did as she said, and Quincy didn’t blame her.  This seemed far to strange to him as well.  Unfortunately he was part of the strangeness, so he couldn’t simply lock the door and hide from what was going on.

            Instead, Quincy opened his letter.  Inside was an old browned piece of paper.  It looked like the type of paper that facsimiles of the Declaration of Independence were printed on.  As he unfolded the letter, the brittle corners of the paper fell to the ground.  The letter read, “Dear Quincy, Tend to your garden. Sincerely, V.” 

            Quincy felt as if he were in a movie.  He expected the dramatic music would be playing in the background, and suddenly the plot of the movie made sense.  Unfortunately, Quincy had no idea what it meant.  That is, until he folded the letter up and on the back of the letter was written, “Damn it man, must I spell it out for you.  Philadelphia is your garden, and the evil that plagues it must be weeded out!  Your thoughts about unhappiness are a good place to start.”