I am in Port Alberni for a few days to visit Monte. I came by myself and it has given me a unique opportunity to spend time with one of my kids, alone....not something that happens often enough with any of them.
I arrived around six thirty Monday night. It was so good to see him and his house was not too too bad. He has been going through some "stuff" the last while and was pretty anxious to talk it through. So I dropped my stuff and headed for the comfy big chair, sat and he had uttered about four words when there was a knock at his front door.
In came a neighbour by the name of Pat. He was born in '53, got run over when he was 3 and half his brain got squashed and some is missing, he is brain damaged, but in a good way, can't work but spends hours upon hours working with the down and out. He helps the police work with crack houses and is starting up a needle exchange at the fleabag hotel here in Port, about two blocks away. He is a not bad looking fella with a long long ponytail down his back. Not exactly a hobo, not exactly a banker type, but definitely not the usual. He stayed til about 11 o'clock, rambling and visiting and by the end of the evening I pretty much knew most of what was to know about Pat, I thought.
The next morning we slept til about ten when there was a knock at the back door. I stumbled over there, very well aware of the fact that I didn't have my teeth in. It didn't matter cuz the guy at the door was missing most his, he didn't notice mine. He was short, wearing the dirtiest holiest old clothes you ever saw. His hair was long to just below his shoulders, a total tangled dirty mess, a dirty ball cap missing half the brim was on his head, he had a bloody hole in the middle of his forehead and he was quite agitated. He mumbled something about Pat and lawnmowers, and whippersnappers etc....I was confused. Suddenly Monte was there and casually says, "Hi Ed. How ya doin?" What???? Turns out he is just another neighbour and he was looking for Pat, whom I had hired last night to do a number on the yard.
Within minutes the kitchen was full of men...hobos really. They all stunk of cigarettes and body odor but they were all happy and chatty. The rest of the day was spent shopping, appointments, errands etc... Around six in the evening Monte was showering and another knock at the front door.
I go and answer it and there stands a tall, scruffy, long haired, definitely unusual character, who, upon seeing me, takes a step back and says, "Is Monte still here?" So I explain to him who I am and he thrusts a box full of musical (band) things like pedals, and switch boardy type things etc..into my arms and says he is cleaning up and thought Monte might like this stuff. He would come back tomorrow to explain it all to Monte.
Long story short, this guy is a hermit, lives in the area, strange (tin foil hat type of strange) and the other hobos around here, (who have been creeping back now that we are home) can't believe he came over. Apparently he never talks to anyone. And the stuff he brought over is gold, according to Monte.
Tonite Mike came back, right after Pat had been here for 2 hours talking and talking and talking, and he and Monte jammed on instruments (he plays an amazing mean guitar). I was calmly sitting at the table on my laptop when I suddenly see a little hobo I hadn't met yet, boinging up and down and up and down out side the window, waving at me.
So I open the door and its Ed's brother. In he comes and Monte casually says "Oh hi!" and then this guy, who is also missing teeth, proceeded to talk my other leg off. Right now Mike and Monte are out on the front porch talking. Mike turned out to be one of the best read most intelligent people I have talked to in a long long time, tin foil hat or not.
Pat not only totally cleaned Monte's yard perfectly, he took the giant bags of laundry that were on the back deck over to his house and his wife cleaned it all. Before this trip I was occasionally concerned about Monte being alone too much, and if anything happened to him he could lay here dead for days before being discovered. But I can see that that could NEVER happen with the steady stream of hobos and people to his house! They have all assured me that they keep an eye on Monte and make sure he eats right and they are encouraging him to get out more and they are trying to fix him up with a job with people they know.
This has completely given me a new reminder of how not to judge people by their looks. I just wish I could get some time with Monte though. LOL.....TTYL (I will try to get some pics of them!)
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