A Far Harbor of the Heart

A Far Harbor of the Heart

     The cold grey dawn approaches like a grim reaper. Shells of humanity wander the abysmal streets. I stand on the corner watching the ebb and flow of people. I lean against the wall of Jim’s tobacco shop smelling the perfume of stale beer.
     I pull my sweater tight against my cold shoulders. Men strut by in neat black suits with lapels flapping in the icy ocean breeze. I idly relax my posture letting my arms rest calmly against the concrete wall.
     A policeman struts by gripping his nightstick. He stealthily approaches a hobo lying on the sidewalk. He leans down quietly whispering his instructions. The derelict rises setting off with a wobbly gait like a ship without rudder into Portland, Maine morning. Busy people keep their distance as the portly hobo disappears around the corner.
     My fingers begin to tingle. I tuck my hands into my warm pockets flexing them. My breath comes out in clouds of steam. I watch as two high school girls walk by laughing. They seem immune to melancholy in their Catholic girl’s school uniforms with navy blue skirt and blouse. Their cheeks are pink in the cold. They surpass an old woman walking her dogs.
     The woman tugs at the leash pulling back the frisky Boston Terriers. I smile to myself. My mind wanders to the countless mornings I’d stood out here. I recollect the endless parade of faces I’ve watched. Some are contorted in pain. Some are blissfully happy. Some have a sneer of contempt. Some are as listless and dead as a cold November skeleton of a tree.
     Looking back at the lost years I recall the fleeting moments of joy. I remember my first date spinning around the skating rink with Tracy’s hand warm in mine. I recall the time my grandmother opened the windows to a backyard covered with snow.  Instead of going to school I make snowmen. Mississippi and childhood are so far away in time and space.
     Out here in this distant outpost, the days are illuminated by the kindness of strangers. I relish the odd smile the cashier gives me as she rings up my purchases. Then there are the warm words shared with my brethren derelicts back at the YMCA. I seek wisdom in the derelict winos lying on the sidewalk. And there is Dad’s love as he wires me money.
     On Sunday morning I set off on the seven-mile pilgrimage to Portland Headlight lighthouse. My young legs take me over the hills of downtown Portland Maine on a haj.
     There is a mountain of rusted scrap metal as I cross the million dollar bridge across the bay. I wander blissfully through bright middle-class neighborhoods of South Portland. My gaze takes in the beautifully sane people tending flowers oblivious to the madman in their midst.
     Finally, I reach the vast shining blue Atlantic ocean of my dreams. Hundred foot boulder strewn cliffs stretch down to a wave crashed rocky beach. A buoy bell clangs faraway in the huge bay which stretches out below me. Magnificent holy Casco Bay! I breathe deep the invigorating cool salty air. Far below sailboats are blown by the wind. Their occupants seek the illusion of freedom out in that lonely island strewn bay.
     I perch on a ledge overlooking the wild sea. I sit there for hours transfixed by the beauty. A majestic ocean liner sails between an island and the shore. Cool breezes soothe me. Below me, on the boulder-strewn rocks a young black haired girl stares up at me. I gaze back down at her. She squints at me for a long while as though she wonders what I am doing up there by myself. She returns to her friends.
     My face slowly gets fried by the brilliant sun. Blisters begin to cover my soft boyish cheeks. Secure in my fortress outpost from humanity my solitude is complete. I blissfully stroll among picnickers gathered on the green grass as I begin the long walk back.
     As my Portland sojourn nears its end my quest takes me on a ferry ride to Chebeague Island. There I wander the deserted country lanes through the fogbound forests. Solitude is my feast. Its sustenance sustains me through my hungry haunts in a far harbor of the heart.