It was a cold night, some might say record breaking for this city.  And what was usually a popular boulevard was now empty and quiet.  The store fronts were dark, long closed for Christmas Eve.  Only one place remained open still and the bright lights and vibrant noise stood out on the boulevard; a sports bar that even from the outside you could tell it was packed inside.  

Outside, a homeless man sits on the ground with his back against the wall when he notices a man stumble out of the bar.  You can tell he was drunk and angry, probably losing money betting on the wrong team.  The homeless man had been out there for hours, and this was the first person he had seen.  He musters up the energy to hold up his cardboard sign. 

The drunken man walks down the sidewalk in front of the homeless man, glancing at his sign that reads “Homeless & Cold - Anything Helps.” The man turns his back pretending to not see him.  

“Spare some change?” the homeless man managed to ask through his chattering teeth.

The angry drunk man ignores him, digging into his coat to pull out his cigarettes.  He pulls one out of the box and lights it.  He stood there exhaling the smoke, the anger exhaling from his breath into the cold air.

The homeless man tries again, this time speaking up.  “Hey man, can you help me out?”

With his back still turned, the man is clearly bothered smoking his cigarette trying to ignore him.

“My name’s Kevin,” the homeless man tries to engage. 

The other man rolls his eyes, not in the mood at all to get stuck in a conversation with some bum on the street.  

“I’m freezing man, and I haven’t eaten in days. Can you help me out at all?” 

The anger builds up, finally causing the man to unload his anger onto him.

“Why should I?  Huh?  I work hard for my money.  So tell me why should I give any of it to you?” 

The man was unloading thoughts he had held inside for a very long time, probably wanting to say this to every homeless person who had ever solicited him in the past.  Unfortunately for Kevin, it was all pouring out on to him.

“I’m sick of this harassment!” the man continued.  “Everywhere I go, to get a cup of coffee.  I walk down the street, stopped at a freeway exit.  Everywhere I turn I see a beggar!  That’s what you people are; beggars!  Why should a worker give money to a beggar?  Are we related?  No!  We’re not friends!  I don’t know you so I don’t owe you anything!”

The homeless man continued to sit there with sadness in his eyes, taking this ear beating.

“You think you’re the only one who has problems?  I probably have more problems than you do!  Haven’t you ever heard that saying?  ‘More money more problems?’  Help you out? Who’s helping me out, huh? 

“And you’re an able bodied man, a white male.  You’re just as capable of working as I am, probably the same age as me too.  But you choose to sit and beg from those of us who choose to work, and struggle to pay our rent, and live paycheck to paycheck.  But like idiots, we help you.  Well I’m not doing it anymore.  I’m done! “You’re out here begging for people’s money… you don’t even have a Santa Claus hat on to really work it.  You know?  C’mon, it’s Christmas Eve for Christ’s sake.  Make an effort!” he said while shaking his head in disappointment. 

The man throws his cigarette down to the ground.  He walks closer to the homeless man, bending over to reach out to him.  Kevin flinches, thinking this man was going to get violent with him.  Instead, he grabs the cardboard sign from him.  The Man holds up the sign with one hand.

“You’re homeless?  Well guess what… I’m homeless too!  I don’t own a home.  I rent, and every month I work my ass off to barely make rent every month.  So what makes you so special?” he yells while throwing the sign at the street.

“You don’t know what I’ve been through,” Kevin says with sadness.  But the enraged man cuts him off.

“Oh save it for somebody who cares...  because I’m done!” he says while walking away.  

He pauses for a second, staring at Kevin as if he was staring at himself through a window.  He was still angry, but more at himself for becoming so enraged and allowing this homeless man to get the best of him.  He shook his head, waving his hand at Kevin as if to say ‘I’m done with you.’

Kevin sat there with sadness and a little bit of anger.  He watched the man walk down the street into the darkness until he could no longer see him.

The man walks into his outdoor apartment complex.  The walk home did not calm his nerves, with the studio apartment just a few blocks from the bar.  He walks up to his door, and just before he turns the key he pauses.  His door reads his apartment number “1843”, and just below that it reads “J. Bailey.”  A Christmas wreath hangs on his door, bringing a remorse for the outburst he just had. 

Instead, he steps in and slams the door so hard the wreath falls off.  He walks passed his pull out couch and heads straight for his kitchenette where a half empty bottle of whiskey sits on the counter. 

With his bottle in hand, he plops down on his bed  and turns on the TV.  He takes one last chug from the bottle before placing it on the floor next to him with the cap still off.  He closes his eyes and falls asleep, until… 

It’s now about 4:00AM, and it’s dark and quiet throughout the apartment.  The only thing heard is the drip from the kitchen sink, and the only light is coming from the glow of the TV stuck on Netflix asking “are you still watching?”  

The man laid there asleep when suddenly there was a knock at the door.  He opens his eyes for a moment, and the knocking continues.  He groans and rolls out of bed angrily.  He turns on all of the lights as he walks over to the door. 

“Who the hell’s knocking on my door in the middle of the night?!” he questions.

The knocking continues as he got closer to the door. 

“Alright! I’m coming,” he yelped as he pulled the door open. 

There is no one there.  ‘How could that be?’ he thought to himself, as the knocking was just a second ago.  He sticks his head out the door and looks both ways but there was no one in sight. 

“What the hell?” he asked himself.  “You kids better stop messing around or I’ll call the police!” he yelled to no one.

He slams the door closed.  When he turns back there’s Kevin the homeless man sitting on his bed with a grin on his face.  He is still wearing the same torn up clothes and old beanie that he was wearing earlier, but this time he looks a little healthier and lively. 

“Oh no, not the police,” Kevin mocked.  “I hope you don’t mind I let myself in, James.”

Angry and surprised, the man managed to yell out “What the hell are you doing in my house?!”

“Don’t you mean apartment?” Kevin responded sarcastically.

“How the hell did you get in here?” James shouted back.

Kevin was quick to reply, “It was easy.”

James ignored him.  He continued on, “You followed me home didn’t you?”

“I guess you could say that, Jimmy.  Can I call you Jimmy?”

“Alright seriously,” James said as he walks over to his cell phone on the counter.  “You have about 3 seconds to get out of here before I call the police.”

“And tell them what?” Kevin asked has he stood up from the bed.  “There’s a ghost in my house?”

“I don’t need the police,” James answered as he aggressively approached Kevin.  “I’ll deal with you myself.”  

He takes a big swing at Kevin but his fist goes right through him.  James tries again but his arm just keeps going through Kevin’s body.

Kevin laughing, “I told you, I’m a ghost.  You can’t hit a ghost.”

James takes a step back in awe.  “What are you talking about? You’re dead?”

Kevin stops to reflect.  “Wow… that’s weird to hear out-loud.  Yes, I’m dead.”  Kevin pauses for a moment before letting out a laugh. “Crazy right?  I died out there tonight on that sidewalk, right where you left me.” 

James is still in disbelief.  “This isn’t real.  How did you die?  I just saw you out there tonight, alive!”

Kevin interrupts, “time caught up to me.  I’ve been sick.  I’ve been battling pneumonia.  I went too long without  the proper medications, too long without food and shelter.  Left out there in the cold, it was only a mater of time.”

Not knowing how to respond, all James could say was “This is crazy.  So what, you’re like the ghost of Homeless past?  Are you here to haunt me now?”

“Haunt you?” Kevin replied.  “No, not haunt you.  I’m more of a friend… a dead friend.  I’m here to help you Jimmy.”

“You help me?” James responded sarcastically.  “How are you going to help me? What, are you going to teach me how to pitch a tent?” 

Kevin let out a laugh.  “Not all help is tangible.  It’s too late for anyone to help me, but I can still help you.  I know what happened in that bar tonight.  You weren’t upset over some sports game, were you?” 

James stared at him in disbelief.  How could he know what he had just gone through? 

“Will you let me help you?” Kevin continued, as he reached into his coat pocket and pulls out a Santa hat.  He placed it on his own head.  He reaches his hand out towards James.  “C’mon, lets take a trip to the past.  Trust me.”

James takes a deep breath.  With curiosity driving him, he stands next to Kevin and takes his hand. 

“Now close your eyes,” Kevin instructed. 

While still holding Kevin’s hand, James closes his eyes tightly with fear.  He’s waiting to be taken to another place, when—

Kevin lets out a bust of laughter.  He lets go of James’ hand.  “What did you think?  We were gonna like teleport to another place and time?”  Kevin is still laughing. 

“I’m a ghost not a time machine,” Kevin mocked. 

James, feeling frustrated, is about to walk towards the front door.  Either to open it for Kevin, or to leave himself. 

Kevin puts his arm around him and walks him over to the bed.  “C’mon, sit down and I’ll just tell you what I know.”  They both sit.  

“I know what happened in that bar tonight,” Kevin started up.  “You were sitting there at that bar watching a game but you were not alone, were you?” 

“You were watching me?” James spatted out. 

“No,” Kevin replied.  “But I can see it all now in my head.  She sure is beautiful.  I see you both there sitting in the bar.  You’ve been there a few hours.  Looks like you had quite a few drinks, Jimmy.  But she didn’t.  She is not drinking at all.  It seems as if she was just waiting to tell you something.” 

“Ya.  She dumped me,” James blurted out.  “So what?  It happens.  No big deal.”

Kevin responded back calmly, “You loved her. You are in-love with her.”

James sat there frozen.  Not sure how he knows what he knows, but he was not wrong. 

Kevin knew he was right by what he saw in his head, and by the tear that started down James’ face.  Kevin put his hand on James’ shoulder.  “I know all about love and heart break, Jimmy.”

“What do you know?” James replied while wiping a tear off of his cheek. 

Kevin grabs James’ hand.   “This one I will show you.”

The TV that had been a black screen suddenly starts to play something.  James looks over at the TV as a slideshow starts to play.  It’s a montage of different photos of a young couple.  As James looks closer he realizes the young man in the montage is Kevin, much younger and cleanly shaven.  The montage shows pictures of Kevin and this young woman as if this was a photo album that Kevin had put together in his mind.  It was them at the beach, on a picnic, on an airplane and vacationing.  Until finally a picture of them both on their wedding day.

“That’s you,” James said.

“Yes,” Kevin responds.  “I wasn’t always just a homeless man.  I had a home, I had a wife.” 

Even though he already knew the answer, James asked; “What happened to her?”

“She got sick,” Kevin said sadly.  

And just as he said it, the montage of photographs stopped.  A video started to play on the TV instead.  It showed his wife from the pictures laying in a hospital bed.  Although James could tell it was the same young lady from the photographs, she didn’t look like her vibrant self.  She looked weak and sickly.  Beside her bed was a man kneeling, holding the woman’s hand with his head down on top of hers.  He lifted his head to look at the woman.  It was Kevin.  She let out one last breath, and her eyes closed forever.  She was gone.  Kevin buried his face back on top of their hands.  He kissed her hand one last time before the TV went black again. 

It was silent for a moment until James asked, “What happened to her?”

“The sickness caught up to her,” Kevin replied.  “Just like it did to me tonight.  Damn Cancer.  After she was gone, it was as if I lost everything.  Then I did.  Her medical bills left me in debt, and I could not get out from under them.  I lost my house, my business, and most importantly… I lost my best friend.”

Kevin stood up from the bed.  This time he was wiping a tear from his own cheek. 

“But hey.  Don’t worry about me,” Kevin said, trying to lighten the mood again.  “I had my time, but it’s not too late for you.”

James thought for a second before asking, “So what are you saying?  Should I go beg for my girl to come back to me?”

“No.  You’re not a beggar remember,” Kevin said with a smirk.  “I am saying it is not too late for you to realize that they’re more important things in life than money, and houses or your debt.  There’s people.  And you should not judge people who might have more in common with you than you think.  And it is not too late to still find happiness.” 

“How am I supposed to do that?” James asked. 

Kevin took the Santa hat off his head and put it on James.  He straightened it for him.  

“Cmon, it’s Christmas Eve. Make a little effort,” he said while smiling. 

Then suddenly, the room turns pitch black.  But it turns out not to be the room that went black, but the thoughts and images in James’ mind that had vanished into nothingness.  It was his mind that was finally awake, but his eyes were still closed.  

James opens his eyes to find himself alone in his bed, lying down.  He sits up quickly, and in a cold sweat he scans around the room.  There is no one there.  All of the lights are still off, and the TV is stuck on ‘Are You Still Watching’ from Netflix. 

“A Dream!” he said out-loud to himself. 

He turns to the clock expecting it to say 4:00AM like last time.  It only says 1:15AM.  James shoots out of his bed, still wearing the clothes he had on the night before.  He throws on his coat and swiftly slips into his boots, knocking over the bottle of whiskey onto the floor.  He doesn’t care.  He opens his front door but stops in his tracks.  Before leaving, he runs back to his bed and pulls the comforter off.  He urgently runs out the door. 

James is running down the side walk with the comforter rolled into a giant ball, held against his chest while he runs as fast as he can.  The boulevard of the apartment buildings turn into store fronts and closed restaurants the farther he runs.  He gets closer to the bar where he was earlier that evening.  As he runs passed the store fronts, he could hear “Silent Night” (The Christmas Song) playing from the overhead of the stores.  The music plays louder the closer he gets.  James is hoping he’s not too late. 

As he approaches the bar, he could see in the distance the store front wall where Kevin was.  James stops, out of breath.  He stares blankly.  He was too late.  Kevin is lying lifelessly, face down on the ground.  

James slowly approaches Kevin’s body.  As he walks up he notices the cardboard sign Kevin had been holding was still lying in the street.  James’ cigarette butt is still lying on the side walk, so he knew he had not dreamt that part. 

Nothing had moved.  The sign was still there, Kevin was still there, and no one had come for him. 

James kneels down beside him.  He’s still holding his comforter, and he places his hand down on Kevin’s back.

“I’m sorry,” he says while holding back tears. 

Tears for this man who he did not even know.  But he now felt like he knew him, felt that it was his friend.  A friend who he had let down and left to die.  He felt remorse for judging this man without knowing his back story.  He was not sure if Kevin’s back story was real or just something he dreamt up, but he knew one thing for sure about his dream.  Kevin really did die.  And if he really died just like in his dream, then maybe everything about the dream was real too. 

James puts his head down still fighting back tears, having a moment of silence for this man until he feels movement from under his right hand.  He surprisingly sees Kevin’s body moving.  Kevin tries to roll over and get up but is too weak and cold. 

“You’re alive!” James said in shock. 

“You’re back,” Kevin managed to say, also with shock.

James helps him sit up.  He wraps the comforter around Kevin, helping him stand to his feet.  James takes Kevin’s arm and puts it around his own shoulders.  They begin to walk in the direction of James’ apartment. 

“What’s your name?” Kevin asks.

“You can call me Jimmy,” he says with a smile.

At that moment, James reaches in his coat pocket looking for his cigarettes but instead feels something soft.  Curiously, he pulls it out.  He’s holding the Santa hat.  He was not sure how it got there, and he had never owned a Santa hat.  He says nothing about it to Kevin, but smirks to himself.  He puts it back in his coat pocket.

‘The Silent Night’ song is coming to an end as they walk down the boulevard, eventually disappearing in the distance.