Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: BACK TO BASICS (02/16/17)
- TITLE: Dumpy
By Phillip Cimei
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“Nice color coordination, Dumpy” said a well-dressed man mocking his hodgepodge garb. The local dump provided his clothing, an unsympathetic onlooker, his name.
It was providence that thrust Dumpy into societies lower Escalon. Not laziness, or mental illness as the world suspects. He once had a normal life–as many would call normal– enjoying the finer foods, nice home, and respect. God had a different road for him to travel. He was stripped of the niceties of life and clothed with the basics of survival.
“What is that smell,” came the disdaining words as a passerby pooched her lips, wrinkled her nose, and declared an, “eeewww…yuk!”
The remarks hurt, but he said to himself, “ I won’t lower myself to their level. Even though they take a stand, like Job’s wife, and question why I don’t curse God and die, I will be content with food and clothing.”
“Get out of my way, you pathetic derelict,” came a shout from the owner of this nice upper class home at which Dumpy lay. The owner’s face now contorted with contempt. “You’re lucky the government can’t figure out what to do with you lazy, worthless bums. No, they let you park your nasty, smelly carcass right in front of my home. The home I worked so hard to make nice and clean.”
“Just a bit to eat sir.”
“I’ll give you nothing but a kick in the face if you don’t leave”
Dumpy responded by casting coals of fire on the owner’s head, “God bless you sir.”
“God…God you say. Where is your God now? Let Him feed you.”
Dumpy lowered his head.
“Go ahead, cower like a whipped dog,” said the owner.
Humility trumps cower every time, “sorry sir, I just need a little food. When I heal, I would be glad to sweep your porch, or…or–”
“Get your lazy…go get a real job. I’m throwing a party tonight and I don’t want to make my guests sick by your stench.”
Dumpy, couldn’t get up. He scooted along the ground, a grimace with every move. His mind raced back to a beating he had last week.
“Hey Dumpy, got any spare change” one malefactor mimicked that night, high-fiving his friends.
“Nice coat moron,” another would chide.
“I need a coat,” the leader yelled out.
They swarmed like a pack of hyenas, ripped off the only decent piece of garment that kept him warm at night. They dragged him down to a ditch. After kicking him repeatedly, they shoved him over the edge of the ditch. It was a deep ditch lined with jagged rocks. Every tumble a cracked rib, every skid an open wound. He rested at the bottom on top of a maggot infested animal carcass. A castoff just like him. The diseased animal would eventually be his undoing.
“What’s that smell?” came the words that brought Dumpy back to his present situation. “Don’t get near him honey. Look at all those open pussy sores, he might have something contagious,” warned a guest of the owner’s home. One after another made their way into the home. Each had a look, or a gasp, or complaint to the owner.
The owner came out again. “I told you to get out of here. Your making my guests sick.”
A last act of degradation was hurled at Dumpy, his matted beard now dripping with spittle.
The night went on, the guest caroused while Dumpy lay outside slowly succumbing to his wounds.
“Where am I? How beautiful. “The day’s events now erased. The pain gone, only serenity and a tug on his left arm occupied his mind. It was as if he was floating at the depths of the sea and someone was guiding him to the light of the surface.”
“Hello Lazarus,” came a voice from a stately figure, “come rest next to me.”
“How did you know my name?”
“I have been waiting for you. God told me that you were in need of some comfort.”
The owner now drunk and chocking on his own vomit… well you know the rest of the story. Luke 16:19-31
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