The Hungry Man

a short story

by
Füsun Atalay Copyright © 2001

Nicole always felt uncomfortable when a beggar approached her . It was not that she minded giving whatever little change she carried with her, but it was rather the thought that there were people in the world who had to beg in order to eat their next meal which troubled her the most.

It was she who felt embarrassed as she handed a loony or the few quarters she carried in her pockets. Her friends called her a pushover betting that those who begged for money were probably richer than herself, or they were alcoholics who would just continue being one as long as gullible people like her supported them.

Nicole was torn; she did not like seeing people ask for spare change for food. On the other hand, she did not like the idea that she might be supporting someone's ruinous habit. Many times she had told herself that the next time someone asked her for spare change, she was going to say "No", but so far she had not been successful. She always gave the others the benefit of the doubt, and reasoned to herself that anyone who could muster up the courage to ask for change must have really needed it. After all, it must have been so humiliating to ask for money to buy food .

"How blessed I am to have a roof over my head and food on my table," she thought to herself, and always wondered what twist of fate or circumstance had brought people to beg.


Nicole was not rich herself, but she felt she was fortunate to have a steady employment and as long as she was frugal with her earnings, she would be alright. Her prudence won over the impulse to spend much time in the malls where she knew she might be tempted to buy items that she really did not need. She limited her shopping to what was on the lists she made before hand ; and was seen at the mall only during the seasonal clothing sales to replenish the aging pieces in her wardrobe.

She had one weakness, though : Good food.

The marketplace came alive with bursting flowers of every imaginable colour and beauty in March. Tulips, hyacinths, primroses and narcissus heralded the spring and Easter as early as late February. They were followed by flowers to mark Mothers' Day in May. Roses, azaleas, gardenias, hibiscus, carnations, terracotta arrangements of exotic cacti were the only ones she could identify.

In early June nursery boxes of violets and begonias; cosmos and impatients; marigolds and petunias were spread out as far as the eye could see. That was Nicole's favourite time, for it meant only the beginning of months of wholesome celebration of the bounty she felt she was blessed with.

Sometimes she went to the market not to buy anything, but just to watch the interaction among the people and the merchants. There was Gaetan, the fat butcher who always whispered a tune as he wrapped up meat in brown paper and weighed it. He had a habit of winking at pretty young women when his wife did not work in the shop.

Mrs Gaetan (Nicole did not know her name) was a character in her own right. Her flame red hair was always coiffed, with every strand glued in place with hair spray. She managed to keep her nails long and polished; and her waistline firm and thin. During the weekends, when she was in the shop, there was no question of who was the boss. Her presence would turn Gaetan into a silent, serious, and subservient man. He resembled more of a pigeon than a parrot on those occasions.

Nicole also loved to feast her eyes on the colourful arrangement of shiny apples, juicy grapes, spotless bananas; green zucchini, firm tomatoes, carrots, green and red peppers; fresh herbs, cartons of white or brown eggs, jars of honey and homemade preserves. There was everything at her market.

A bakery second to none, a fine food store that carried unique delicacies from all over the world, a cheese store with over a hundred kinds of cheese, butchers, and a coffee mill where she bought her coffee beans always freshly roasted. These simple pleasures were her bliss, her celebration of life. And when she felt so happy and blessed herself, how could she say "No," to someone whose only request from her was a little money because he had not eaten for a whole day?

One Saturday Nicole arranged to meet her friend Maria at the market bakery around noon to enjoy a cappuccino and chat for a while before they picked up a few items they needed. Maria had not been to the market for quite a long time and she was not aware of the metamorphosis it had gone through in the last three years.

Nicole arrived there a little earlier and parked her car. It was a sunny day and the sun melted most of the January snow . Even the birds, in their chants, were rejoicing the early spring feeling in the air . Nicole decided to stroll to the North end of the market towards the bakery which she had suggested as their meeting place.

She smiled as she passed by some of the merchants whom she had gotten to know so well by sight. They were her nameless friends who greeted her every time she went there and answered her questions about herbs or different types of honey . "It is the little joys that are so precious; yet we take so for granted in life," thought Nicole as she took the steps up leading to the bakery.

They should have named that place The Bee Hive instead of the First Harvest , since it was always bustling with people buying crusty loaves, and buttery croissants and pastries whose names were not even easy to pronounce let alone remember. Nicole knew that by three o'clock most of this bounty would be depleted down to the last mille feuille or the slightly crooked baguette which was not selected when there were so many better looking ones.

Just then her eyes met those of an elderly man who looked like he might be in his sixties or seventies. Nicole had never been good at guessing people's age. He approached her as if he were about to ask a question. He was fairly clean dressed except for a tattered, hand knitted blue and brown striped scarf that he had wrapped twice around his neck. He had possibly a day's stubble on his long, sombre face.


He put out his palm and asked, "Can you spare some change , miss? I haven't eaten since yesterday and I am hungry."

Nicole, who thought that he might have asked her a direction or perhaps the time was caught off guard by this request. A woman and a man, excusing themselves, hurriedly passed between them. The elderly man did not look like a vagabond but his blue eyes did have a hollow, hungry look in them.

"How can I say "No" standing in front of these fantastically tempting breads and cakes?" thought Nicole. Then, just as these thoughts were passing through her mind, another idea flashed through her.

"If you haven't eaten, how would you like to pick something from here and let me buy it for you?" she asked. At least this way she would be sure that the man would eat, and not drink her money.

He seemed astonished at first, as one would be at catching a sizable fish no sooner than he had cast his rod. Then he looked overwhelmed at the choices that were arrayed in the glass display in front of him. Danish pastries with glistening fruit fillings, lemon cakes, butter tarts, fruit pies, assorted sandwiches - the choice was enormous, but he was not picky.

"Something like that would be nice," he said pointing to a raspberry filled Danish pastry glazed with apricot jam. "And a coffee. Two milks and two sweeteners."

Nicole repeated the order to the young girl who asked if she had been served yet,and then turned around to the man to ask him if he wanted anything else. He had already seated himself on a chair at one of the round, glass topped cast iron tables and was fishing something out of the breast pocket of his worn-down jacket. He took out a pill box filled with blue, white and pink tablets and capsules. Pointing to it he announced, oblivious of other people, "I have to take nine of these every day. For my heart. I had two operations in the last two years."

Nicole was moved, but she did not know what to say. She had given change to beggars in the past and thought no more about it. The act was impersonal, innocuous, unattached to emotions. This time she felt herself taken into a stranger's confidence and exposed into his dismal world. It was an uncomfortable feeling most easily dealt by avoidance. Every time she handed a coin to an outstretched hand, was she in fact not asserting silently, "Here take this, and leave me alone. Spare me the details of your pathetic life"?

She hoped she was doing the right thing by following her instincts. She picked the tray with the coffee and the pastry, paid the girl who rang up the total, left the change next to the Styrofoam cup, and brought the food to the hungry man . "Enjoy it," she smiled. He looked happy and thanked her reiterating that he had eaten nothing since yesterday.

At that moment Nicole remembered Maria who was supposed to be there any minute. It would be better if her friend knew nothing about this little episode.

"Well, take care and have a nice day," she said and parted, feeling awkward, from the elderly man who waved his free hand as he was sipping his steaming hot coffee and looked as if he were, at that moment, in heaven.

Nicole started walking towards the cheese store at the opposite end so that she could make her way back to the bakery and make it look like she had just arrived herself. Her eye caught Maria's back as the latter entered the ladies' room. Good. She was there. Nicole would wait a few minutes before she returned to the bakery.

She stepped into the nuts and dry fruits store to check the price of shelled walnuts for the coffee cake she was planning to bake . When she emerged with her little bag of walnuts, raisins and dates she saw that Maria was waiting at the entrance of the First Harvest , looking rather awed by all that was spread before her. Nicole hoped that the old man had finished his coffee and was gone. Maria who had seen her by now waved her hand and started walking hurriedly towards Nicole.

They greeted each other with a hug.

"I had a bit of a problem leaving Richie with my mom. He doesn't want to let go of me lately. Have you been waiting long? "

Nicole could not lie. "No, just long enough to buy some nuts and raisins," she replied. "So, how about our coffee before we check out all the other stores?"

"No, not just yet," Maria pulled her to the opposite direction from the First Harvest. "There is a man there who is asking for money from the people. I already said no, so I don't wanna see him again. Let's wait until he goes away."

But it was too late, Nicole spotted the man whom she had treated to coffee and Danish a while ago. He was coming out of the shop now, and he saw her too. He flashed her a big smile as he rubbed his stomach in a circular fashion with his right hand trying to communicate that her treat had hit the spot. He looked thankful. Nicole felt embarrassed, she gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and hoped her friend did not see the exchange.

"Really," Maria was continuing, "it really bugs me to be asked for spare change by people. Why don't they get a job and work like everyone else instead of begging?"

Nicole knew if she told Maria what had happened, Maria might laugh and say something like, "That's typically you, the champion of the underdog. I wonder how many coffees and cakes he's had before you came along today."

Nicole would rather have done what she did than chance a man go hungry. So, she chose not to argue and replied, "I wonder. I wish I knew the answer. Yet, I don't know what is worse: helping them momentarily or simply ignoring them . But I certainly wouldn't want to be in a position where I had to beg in order to eat."

"You? Beg?" Maria stopped momentarily, enunciating each word and stared at Nicole as if the other were kidding. "Oh, don't be silly! You'll never beg. Let's go and get some lunch before the coffee; I am absolutely starved!" Maria's voice chimed. As she slid her arm into Nicole's, the latter could not help wondering where that poor man's next meal would come from. Then she realized that just as she had never seen him before, she would probably not see him again . So, she tried to put the thought behind and not spoil the afternoon for Maria.


It turned out to be a very pleasant afternoon, especially for Maria who had a chance to get away from her house chores and motherhood duties for a while and spend a few leisurely hours with her friend.
. . . . . . .

Another lively spring had ushered a beautiful summer; and in time a colourful autumn bid welcome to the winter.

The market was always crowded around Christmas. Freshly cut pines, seasonal ornaments, fresh wreaths, cyclamens and flowering Christmas cacti made the place look like Santa's palace, if he had one. People rushed in and out of the shops, ordering their turkey, picking the perfect tree, drinking bowls of hot chocolate and simply savouring the season with its sights, sounds and the ambiance that could be felt only by being there.


Nicole thought of the few weeks in December as the climax of an entire year before life quietened down a bit at the market. The following couple of months would bring in a quieter pulse, a subdued tone as nature silently prepared for another spring, another summer and another harvest.

Nicole had taken her niece Amber to help pick out a small wreath for her apartment and treat her to a slice of cake at the First Harvest. The little girl was happy to be out with her aunt and in anticipation of the reward that was awaiting her, she was on her best behaviour. They bought some sweet potatoes and carrots; picked a bag of fresh cranberries and started walking to the flower shop to see their display.


Amber's eyes shone when she spotted the Santa Claus standing on the steps of the First Harvest, jiggling a long-handled bell and repeating , "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!" Then she spotted the colourful lollipops spread out on a square kerchief at his feet; and next to them was a tin box into which people were dropping coins. Those red, yellow, green, orange and purple lollipops looked rather appealing to Amber. She stopped her aunt and looked up at her with pleading eyes.

Oh, Aunt Nicole, can I buy a lollipop from Santa, phleeease?"

Nicole laughed at the child's innocence, but she did not want to burst her bubble. Amber had maybe another year before she started questioning the existence of Santa. "Alright, Sweetie, but just one." She fished out two - dollar coins from her pocket and handed them to the girl. "And put these into Santa's tin."

Amber darted towards the man dressed like Santa Claus and after depositing the coins ceremoniously into the coffee tin, she bent down to pick a candy. At first she reached out for the orange one, but she changed her mind and took the green. Just then, the red one looked more attractive than all the others, but she had already picked hers. . . and her aunt had said only one.

The man, stuffed into his Santa suit, was watching her. The white wig and the cotton beard that covered most of his face made it difficult to ascertain whether he was smiling or frowning. He must have seen her hesitation or read her thoughts. He let out a jolly laughter and said, "Go ahead, take another one. Ho! Ho! Ho! It's Christmas, after all."

"Thank you, Santa!" Amber did not want to pass up this opportunity by consulting her aunt whose word would not weigh as heavily as that of Santa's at that moment, anyway.

She quickly picked the red one on which she had set her eye, and was about to run back to her aunt standing at a distance, when the man dressed as Santa added so that Nicole could hear clearly,

"Just don't forget to leave a raspberry Danish and a cup of coff... errr , a glass of milk in the fireplace on Christmas eve!"


Copyrighted Material ~ Copyright © 2001 ~ All Rights belong to Füsun Atalay