Date: Mon, 27 Sep 1999 06:10:06 -0400
From: "C. E. Jordan" <c.e._Jordan@MailAndNews.com>
Subject: 'STAGE COACH' & ME

				`STAGE COACH' & ME


Dear Hans,

	I have another small adventure to tell you about. It's one of those
encounters that make New York special. As big and bad as the city can get,
this is no real drama, just a sweet and innocent encounter for a change. But
it's left me happy and a bit sad at the same time.

	Summer in New York can be quite beautiful, and surprisingly
romantic. People have begun to hang out at the coffee shops and sidewalk
cafes of the city's East Village. Kids play catch with dogs and frisbees
while couples stroll by hand in hand. And everywhere bare-chested boys of
all colours spin and fly on their magic skateboards across the open plazas.

	I'd finished my business and didn't feel like going home right
away, so I was just strolling around in the 14th St. Union Square area of
NY. I'd bought a vanilla ice cream cone from a truck on the street corner
and was waiting to finish it before going in to check out music at the new
`Virgin Atlantic' super store which opened in that area not too long
ago. So I was just sort of observing, you know, people-watching and
thinking how the late afternoon sun was turning everything golden. Then my
eye caught sight of a boy of eleven or twelve. At first, I really didn't
focus my attention on him, but every time my eyes scanned about, it came
back to rest upon him. It seemed he was doing the same thing I was, just
aimlessly enjoying the beautiful afternoon. The t-shirt he wore was
probably three sizes too big for him, but that's the way kids dress these
days. I also noted that it was torn and a bit dirty.

	I looked around to see if the boy was with anyone, but I still had
not really focused fully on him. Just then, he ran across the street
against the light dodging cars that didn't even slow down, then he paused
to press his nose against the glass of a shoe store that had a big display
of all kinds of sneakers. Boy spent a good long time there moving from one
window to the next.  The store was still open and he peered inside the
doors, but didn't go in. He strained up on tip-toe to get a better look at
something, and all I could see were beautiful tapered brown legs. He looked
as if he wasn't wearing anything under that shirt, but when he turned away
and jumped onto a stack of wooden planks on the street corner where they
are working on the 14th street subway beneath the road, I could see that he
had on blue shorts, small ones, not the usual long type boys are wearing
now. Then he continued walking along (well, more like skipping, leaping,
hopping, etc) down the sidewalk, making various small detours to stare at
things in the store windows or to inspect mysterious stuff in the gutters
by the roadside.

	I'd finished eating my ice cream cone and it was getting darker. I
lost sight of the boy for a moment and wondered where he'd dissappeared
to. Then he surprised the heck out of me by suddenly popping out from a
little passage-way between one building and the next, right beside me! But
what *really* startled me and made my heart bang in my chest was when he
SPOKE to me. Boy looked right into my eyes and said clearly, "I had to
pee." ;-))

	Then, as I stood staring at him with my mouth open and my mind
blank, he said next, "You're following me."

	It wasn't a question, and he didn't seem particularly upset. It was
a simple casual statement.

	It suddenly occured to me that it was the truth. I'd finished my
ice cream, and now I was blocks away from the Virgin Atlantic store I'd
intended to enter. Apparently, I *was* following the boy and didn't even
realize it.

	I kinda stammered, "Umm, no, I...I wasn't following you, I was,
ah...," At this point my eyes caught sight of a McDonald's logo nearby, so
I continued, "...I was just going to the McD..." I was quite embarrased and
confused at being caught like this.

	Trying to regain my composure, I tried to be smart and said, "Hey,
I think YOU are the one following ME." and I laughed trying to appear
friendly and not threathening to him.

	"No, I am not!" he said indignantly, "You are!"

	"No no...you are..." I insisted.

	Stalemate. We stared at each other. Then I found myself laughing
and he laughed too. Up close I could see he was really cute with big brown
eyes. He was a light-skinned black or maybe latino. From the state of his
shirt, I figured he was either a `real' street-kid or maybe just a regular
boy who'd just played hard out on the streets all day--after all, these are
the first sweet days of Summer :-)

	So, there he was standing in his over-sized shirt with his bare
legs sticking out of it. No socks, just raggedy Nikes, and he was still
looking at me. I was having an attack of shyness and didn't know what to
say, so finally I just said, "Well, I'm going to get my burger now...." And
impulsively, as I moved away, I added a question, "...want one?"

	I didn't hear an answer and was still too shy to ask again or even
to look back. I didn't want to get rejected, or worse yet cussed out, (this
IS big bad NY). But I had a feeling that this kid wasn't that tough. I
pushed through the glass doors and was half-way down the aisle when a
family pouring the opposite way caused me to halt suddenly. I felt a small
body bump into mine. I looked around, and sure enough, there was that pair
of slightly apprehensive brown eyes looking up at me. I didn't say
anything; I just smiled at him really pleased that he'd decided to stay.

	I didn't really want to eat anything, especially a burger, as I
rarely eat meat, but for the boy's sake, I ordered a full meal. "What do
you want?" I asked him. I could see he was uncertain and hesitant to ask
for too much. So I said, "Why don't you get what I've got?"  That seemed to
please him and he said, "Okay."

	"Let's sit over there..." he said, heading for a two person table
near a window where one could watch people passing by. I picked at my
French-fried potatoes while the boy practically inhaled his dinner. Well,
of one thing I was certain, he was hungry.

	"My name is Charles." I said after a period of friendly silence.

	"I'm Stage Coach."

	"Huh?"

	"'Stage Coach', that's what they call me."

	"Why'd they call you that?" I wondered.

	He shrugged, "I dunno...cause I used to like them a lot when I was
little, I guess....I used to draw them all the time...and my real name is
Mark."

	I perked up. He liked to draw. Perhaps we had a point of contact
here. So I volunteered, "I like to draw too, I'm an artist."

	The hand on its way to his mouth with a couple of fries paused
mid-air for a moment or two as he looked at me with interest.

	"Oh yeah? I never met a real artist before...I wanna be an artist
when I grow up...or maybe a pilot, then I can fly far far away from here."
He resumed chewing his burger.

	"You don't like it where you live?"

	His eyes followed my hand as I began a quick little drawing of him
on a napkin, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead he answered my
question, "No, it's terrible."

	"What do you mean `terrible', does your father hit you?" I asked
taking a shot in the dark.

	"Don't have no dad....my sister works at a McDonald in Brooklyn but
I like Burger King better." He reached over to grab the little drawing I
made of him.  And I sensed that the subject had been changed. He'd told me
all that he intended to and I wasn't going to pry.

	"Oooooh.....this is nice..." he cooed as he inspected the sketch,
"....can I keep it....please?"

	"Yeah....sure Mark."

	"You didn't sign it," he said, so I wrote on the napkin, `to Mark
with love, Charles' and I watched a bit apprehensively to see how he'd
react to that. I watched his lips move as he read the little note, then he
leaned his head to one side and looked at me out of the corner of his
eyes...and smiled. I wish there were another word to describe him at that
moment, but that over-used word `cute' totally describes it.

	"Thanks.....for the food," he said, but I think he was thanking me
for something else. He stood to pull up that long dress-like t-shirt
revealing more of those faultless legs. Then he squeezed my nice drawing
into a ball and pushed it into a pocket of his small blue shorts ;-)

	He reached for the last of the fries, "I got to get home before my
mother, or else I'll get whupped...I wasn't supposed to leave the
house...but I got bored..."

	I couldn't imagine anyone hitting this nice boy, but at least
somebody actually cared where he was and what he was doing. Finally, out on
the street again, we stood there at a loss for words. Then, smiling up at
me he said, "I'm glad you followed me Charles ."

	"Naw, I didn't follow you...Mr 'Stage Coach'!"

	"Yes you did!" He said with hands on hips and pushing his smug but
smiling face right up to mine.

	"No, I didn't. Why would I do that?"

	"Because...because you *like* me."

	Well, I couldn't argue with that. Mark's face was so close to mine
at this point, that if I'd leaned down just a bit more I could have kissed
him...but even if I had the nerve to do such a thing, there were too many
people passing us back and forth on the sidewalk. But I suspect little
`Stage Coach Mark' wouldn't have minded at all. However, what actually
happened was that I stared into Mark's liquid eyes and knew he
instinctively understood all about me and wasn't repulsed. Finally, without
saying goodbye, he turned and walked away looking back a couple of times.


 			*********************

	Well, Hans, that's it for now. The pics of you and Benjamin were
beautiful as usual. Love to your family.

	Bye for now and take care....

Always,
Charles