El Gorrito

I wrote this story for a fiction compilation. I'm open to critique. I haven't yet submitted it. Let me know what you think, or if you have any suggestions.

El Gorrito

I may have reached a new low. I thought I’d hit bottom when I told my mom I wouldn’t be coming back again. Right now I’m sore, I’m cold, and I don’t have anywhere to go. Maybe I am homeless. Shit, they’ve probably had me classified as homeless for years, but I’ve usually had a place to stay. I lived at the last hostel for 9 months ‘til I punched Lamarcus in the face and they kicked me out. I still think it may have been worth it. They say I have anger problems. Maybe it’s true, but he pissed me off for months ‘til I finally socked him so I guess I do have some control. I was supposed to stay at my brother’s house tonight, but he just beat the shit out of me. Again. I dunno. He does sometimes give me some clothes, a bite to eat and a place to stay. He’s an asshole, but he’s the only family I’ve got. I never met my dad. I had a mom until she married that prick, and since then I haven’t meant a damn thing to her. I found a wall to lean up against. It’s hard. The ground is hard. But for some reason this wall gives me some comfort. A little comfort.

That was over five years ago. I’d like to tell you that was atypical, but that was how it went. At that time I didn’t even think I would make it to 27. My life’s much different now. Better. But I’ll never forget those times. I’ll never forget where I came from. Nor will I ever forget when my life started to change. That wall and I spent some time together. I was in that very spot when it happened.

Two days later I was still against the same wall. I resorted to holding out a cup and asking for change. Not permanently, but it was winter, and I was hungry. Then a little old Mexican lady approached me. She spoke half in English and half in Spanish. I couldn’t really understand her in either language. She gave me a blanket, some bread, and “el gorrito.” That’s what she called it. Shit, I don’t even know how to say it English. It is a stupid-looking-hat-scarf-beanie thing. El gorrito. I didn’t really care what she called it. I was cold, and I put it on and wrapped in the blanket. I never saw the woman again. Believe me, I’ve looked. Looking back, I don’t even think she was real. I think she just came to that spot to save me.

After that incident weird shit started to happen. I remember people walking by thinking all kinds of things about me. It was crazy. Some people thought nasty stuff, others were more sympathetic, but I became aware of all of it. One guy walked by with his pretty little girlfriend and was like, “You fuckin’ loser. Go get a job.” I jumped up and hollered something back at him. He responded, “Back off. I didn’t even say anything to you.” He was right. He didn’t say anything. That’s when I realized it. For some reason I could read people’s thoughts. It took me a bit to put the pieces together, but it was el gorrito. When I was wearing it, I could hear everyone’s thoughts. When I wasn’t wearing it, things were normal. I later learned that once I put el gorrito on people weren’t able to see it either.

It was amazing how much money I was able to bring in after this realization. Instead of saying, “got any change?” I now was much more specific. For example, “Even if you don’t have any change, but have over fifty dollars in your wallet you can probably spare just one for me. I won’t even get up out of my seat, but I would appreciate it very much.” It was like people thought if they pulled out a wallet with too much money I was suddenly going to mug them. I didn’t, but I was tempted a few times.

Now with el gorrito, a little bit of wit and some social skills, I quickly became the most successful panhandler in the state. However, being a glorified bum had never been on my list of aspirations. I still didn’t have an impressive resume, but overnight I had become a tremendously good interviewee. It is funny how people will just be hoping you say certain things, and then light up when you respond in that way. Life was suddenly easy, almost too easy. Within three months I had a job, an apartment, and a girlfriend, who was much better looking than me. (That relationship ended shortly after I told her about my magic hat.)

I stopped wearing el gorrito to work. Ignoring people’s thoughts became more work than one might think, plus there are some things a guy just doesn’t need to know. I was doing okay for myself. I could maintain a job on my own, and I developed new friendships without reading their minds first. Using the powers of my hat felt like cheating and manipulation, so I packed el gorrito in a box, and stored it in the back corner of my closet. I knew where it was.

Then I met Jacqueline. That is when everything in my life changed. She had long, straight, beautiful dark hair, gorgeous green eyes, and a cute little nose. Every time she walked in the door she lit up the room, or maybe just my heart; I couldn’t tell the difference. When she approached me my whole body would smile. Finally, I worked up enough courage to ask her out.

The night before our first date I pulled el gorrito back out of the closet. I looked at it. Even put it on again for a second. It opened a floodgate of emotions. I remembered being outside and freezing. I remembered the Mexican lady that gave it to me. I thought about all the things I could use it for now. How much power could I have with the ability to know others’ thoughts? Do I want all that? Do I want to acquire power and wealth like that? Do I even want that ability?

I held it in my hands looking at it. Quite honestly, it looks ridiculous. I remembered how this hat turned my life around. Or did it? Could I have gotten a job myself, and worked my way back up without the aid of el gorrito? Maybe. Maybe, it just gave me the confidence I needed to get me started. Now, I can turn the corner without it. I’m sure being able to read Jacqueline’s mind would help me score some points on the first date, but what kind of person would that make me?
If I don’t wear it, then what? Should I pass it on to the next unfortunate person so that someone else who has been beaten down by life can get a leg up? How would they use it once they got it? Should anyone have this ability? All these questions and more raced through my mind.

After much deliberation I went outside and did the only thing that I could do. I took a lighter from my pocket and watched the magic gorrito go up in flames. There was something satisfying about it. This went beyond knowing that no one else would abuse the power. It was personal. I had el gorrito with me and all its power in my possession, but now I also had the strength to move on without it. Something inside me told me that the Mexican lady would have been proud of me too. I think she came here to bring it specifically for me. I was now out of the gutter and continuing to grow in my life.

That night I don’t think I said all the right things. I sure as hell was wondering what she was thinking. Despite my imperfections the date was perfect. That night was the best night of my life.

Jacqueline and I are married now. I met her at the right time. I was getting better, and she was already perfect. (Well, as close as I’ve met yet.) Life is different. Better.

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