The wind whipped through the alleyway blowing the corners of the newspapers over my face, waking me to another cold morning on the streets of the city. I remember the days of waking up at 3:00 AM at the shelter and, after a breakfast of biscuits and milk, catching the white bus that took us laborers to the shipyard for a day of toil. The sullen faces of my co-workers looked the same as the faces of my street friends, forlorn and destitute, lost and forsaken.

The shipyard is located on the river, that mighty, peaceful river that flows to an uncertain end that carries off all of the debris and toxins away from society, making it a cleaner place for real people to live. I dream of that river, so massive and foreboding, yet so inviting. Today is the day that I will get one more glimpse of the shipyard and memories of my old life.

As I turn the corner at Toulouse Street, I see it – a bicycle, unlocked and unattended. I’m not a thief, but the temptation is irresistible and those wheels are just the thing I need. Like me, the bicycle is old and outdated, so surely it will not be missed much. With a push, I am off on my journey.

I have not been to the park by the zoo in a great while. How I must stand out like a sore thumb. I want to circle the park, but my destiny waits. So, I peddle towards the levee.

River Road is pleasant this morning. It is as though I have the road to myself. Suddenly, there it is. Over the levee, across the river, I can see the cranes of the shipyard.– my old place of employment, my old life. I’ll park next to this cargo container that I examine, out of habit, as a possible place to bed down for the night. The makeshift shelter is locked and useless – just as well, considering. I’ll leave the bicycle here. While atop the levee, I reminisce of the old days, when I was a real person. A jogger is coming; I hope I don’t scare her. Smiling, a young woman says to me in passing, “Good morning, sir.” “Morning, ma’am.” I feel more human when real people speak to me. She will be gone in a minute or two.

Traversing the down-slope of the levee to the water’s edge, I think of the river’s cleansing way of taking refuse to the gulf. The water is cold and the current is strong against my legs, but I feel a sense of welcome and relief as I step further into the depths. A few feet more and the chilling current will be over my head.

I wonder if anyone will miss me.

The news is not good. My wife’s treatments have failed. The truth is that Joyce is dying.  Pray, she says. I don’t believe in miracles. I’m a pragmatist.

“Life is something that is precious to us, and time is a gift from God. Remember the good days,” Joyce says to her daughter and husband.

“Alice, my precious daughter, life is a wonderful thing waiting for you to unlock its mysteries. So, do not fear losing me. I will always be with you in spirit.”

“What’s a spirit, Mommy?”

“Look at the wind, Sweetie.”

“You know that you can’t see the wind, Mommy.”

“Yoko Ono said that when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by.”

“So, is the wind a spirit, Mommy?”

“No, but you can feel spirits around you, just like you can feel the wind.”

“Don’t go away, Mommy. I need you.”

“I have to, my baby. It’s my time.”

After the funeral, the doctor says that Alice will talk again, that her condition is temporary – a psychosomatic disorder.  She used to be a talkative girl, but since her mother died, she has fallen silent. Her toys are untouched, she refuses to watch television, her schoolwork is failing, and she will not eat. Her condition is dismal. Visiting the psychiatrist every Monday is not producing any positive results.  The loss of her mother is overwhelming, and her condition is worsening.

Three months later, Alice has to be committed to a treatment facility. Her anorexia is critical; a feeding tube and an IV are necessary to keep her alive. Frustrated at her lack of progress, her father is hiring a spiritualist to work with the child. The father reasons this out with the doctor and tells him that it cannot hurt his daughter at this point.

Sister Theresa used to be a Catholic nun. Her proclivity to the spirit world caused her to be excommunicated from the church. She is now a well-known spiritualist that makes appearances on various talk shows in the U.S.

Sister Theresa says, “I feel a strong presence around your daughter. Everyone please leave the room. Alice, I’m going to help you. I know what’s wrong, and I will make you better.”

Alice looks at her with distant eyes and thinks, “Who is this strange woman? And, how is she going to help me?”

“Your mother is very close by, Alice. You can’t see her, but she wants you to know that she loves you and misses you. She wants me to open the window for you.”

Opening the window, Sister Theresa notices thunder clouds looming overhead. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blows leaves inside the room, swirling around Alice’s bed. Alice sits straight up and cries, “Mommy!” With considerable effort, Sister Theresa gets her to walk to the window and look outside.

Alice feels the wind in her face, and as she looks out at the trees, she says, “I see you Mommy. The trees are bowing their heads.”

“So, here you are! I have found you at last. I have been searching for you for weeks. The success of our mission is at risk due to your insolence. Your evasiveness has caused untimely delays in our departure. Why do you insist on hiding? Is it a frivolous notion that you want to be with the human beings? You know that they are mere animals seeking personal gratification in every moment of their lives. Their ultimate goal is geopolitical dominance of their planet. They war over land, natural resources and religion. Their species is capable of unimaginable cruelties. They murder and maim their own species and possess nefarious qualities such as greed, hatred, lust, and sloth, unlike our Utopian civilization. Their population suffers from poverty, starvation and disease. Our planet is united, bonded as one entity with one common goal – survival of our race. Don’t sympathize with the creatures, for they are inferior to us in so many ways. We are thousands of years more evolved than them. We have completed our work here, and your presence is needed back on the ship. You have hidden in this hovel long enough. You cannot stay here another minute. It is a long way home, so gather your things and let us depart. The ship awaits.”

“But, I am in love.”