For study until 13th of October 2024
Subject: The Charity Givers
Audio: On usual social media platforms.
The Charity Givers
Last week, I was sitting at home watching my favourite TV show when someone rang my doorbell. I opened the door to find a woman dressed in black wearing a hat standing there with two henchmen standing behind her. The picture looked like some kind of 1980s glam pop group trio, complete with backing singers. Katrina and the Waves came to my mind and this group looked a bit artificially happy. I doubt they were “Walking on Sunshine” after all it was pouring with rain outside.
“Are you Danny?” – she asked, with direct eye contact and a flashing of teeth. I immediately picked up on the accent and realised she wasn’t English and my radar started to try and work out where she was from. I settled with either Italian or Greek, leaning more towards Greek.
“No….” I replied.
“Ah, it’s the apartment across from you I think, but he’s not at home, can I leave something with you to give to him?” she muttered in bad English. I resisted the urge to correct her.
Images of the 80s, big hair and electrical guitars started to fade. They would be more fluent.
“Sure, why not?” I replied, remembering that my neighbour took my University books when they arrived last week when I was out. He handed them in later.
“We have a washing machine, a toaster and an electric fire”.
At that point her head leaned slightly to the left and she showed teeth. She clearly felt we had some kind of affinity but I’m not sure why. I looked behind myself briefly because her gaze kind of said “what a cute cat” but my cat was nowhere to be seen. He hasn’t been receiving visitors in recent days because of his sickness. The only thing we might have had in common is the word charity. Whoever she was, she clearly was offering charity to Danny. I was doing the same thing by offering to take his stuff for him.
She clapped her hands once and the henchmen swung into action. From nowhere a washing machine, toaster and fire appeared at my feet. She handed me the toaster.
“Um, about the washing machine….” ….. she pre-empted what I was about to say…
“Oh we will leave that at Danny’s door, and we will text him…. He told us he was homeless and we wanted to help” as she handed me the heater and toaster.
I remembered that the apartment across from me was indeed kept for those who are homeless while they search for permanent accommodation. It’s something I discussed on a previous podcast.
She quickly retreated and vanished, leaving no clue where they had come from or what group they represented, vanishing into the distance. This was like some kind of 80s video, the only thing missing was the artificial smoke as they disappeared.
My cat wandered up, took one look at the doorway, made a noise and walked away. He was largely unimpressed.
It took me a few moments to register what had just happened. Who were these people? Either way, it was a nice feeling to know I had done a good deed. It was that feeling you get when you hear a pop song from your youth. Some weird feeling of security and nice memories which allow you to take a deep breath and smile.
That day, I waited for Danny to arrive but nobody came.
“That’s ok” I thought, “He might be on holiday” but then the fifth day came and went, with no sign of Danny beating a path through the jungle to my doorway to collect his goods.
After a week and a half passed, it was clear that Danny wasn’t coming back. I moved the heater and toaster away from behind my front door to a more permanent arrangement, my cupboard. The washing machine is still sitting outside his apartment door.
I asked my neighbours what they thought. Some of them were worried that he was dead inside his apartment, others went along with the holiday theory but they all agreed that they really didn’t care.
“I mean if he was dead in there, there’s nothing could be done anyway, he’s dead” they all concurred.
“Yeah… but no… but…..” was what I heard as we all were defending why we didn’t want to get involved. They were more uncomfortable with my direct communication than they were about Danny.
After another week passed my doorbell camera alerted me that there was a movement in the hallway. I cynically checked it, not expecting Danny to appear. My Landlord’s agent was clearing the apartment. This was my big moment to find out where Danny was. Although it was clear she didn’t want to talk to me:
“Hi, that washing machine was left by a charity or Christian Group for Danny. Has he moved then?” I politely asked.
“Because of Data Protection, I can’t discuss anyone who may or may not be called Danny” she responded without turning around. She came with her own henchman He stared bitterly in my direction but once they heard the word charity, they softened a bit.
“We will get it moved for you” she unwillingly made eye contact. She looked like she was 16 and covered in acne, the fluorescent jacket made her look professional but she wasn’t fooling anyone. The henchman looked younger, acne much worse than her’s and carrying more puppy fat than a labrador dog. These people were young. I was just another old man in their eyes.
“Can you tell him to pick the stuff up” I pleaded.
“I wonder if you mean the last tenant, before this one” – she interrupted
“No, that was Stuart” I said….trying to get her to take some kind of responsibility.
“David has a support worker” – I will talk to them…..
“Are you sure she said the name Danny?” – she continued.
“Yeah” I quipped while trying not to roll my eyes.
“The woman was Central European, she could have said the name wrong” wondering why I had to defend my argument.
They quickly made their excuses and vanished. The washing machine is still there and my cat happily sits on the heater when he is doing his daily patrols around my apartment.
I haven’t decided what to do next. Should I move the washing machine into the cupboard as another place for my cat to rest his weary head while he does his daily rounds?
Should I just call the local charity shop and get them to take everything. Will the woman who looked like an 80s rock star come back and collect the stuff?
What about Danny and his support worker? Should I expect them to appear with a van?
I’m not holding my breath, that’s for sure.