Henry's Sandwich

This is one of my favorite stories about my mom. The part about the dimes in the payphone is one of the images that I will always keep of my mom.


Henry's Sandwich
Several years ago, my mom befriended Henry. Henry was an eccentric, possibly brain-damaged, neurotic homeless fellow who frequented the government building where my mom worked. He was probably in his late thirties, slender, always very clean, and always wearing shoes several sizes too large for him, reminiscent of clown shoes. Henry, like many in our society, probably shouldn't have been living on his own. Each morning he'd come into the lobby and wander over to the payphone and shake the change flap several times looking for change. Most days, my mom had already left a few dimes for Henry to find. He was always delighted with his good fortune.Ironically, I also knew Henry because I worked in several of the libraries that he liked to frequent. The libraries were about 30 miles apart all told; Henry would ride the bus from library to library. During my seven years working there, I worked in four different libraries, and I saw Henry at each of them. He'd sit and read the newspaper each afternoon. The newspapers were kept on long bamboo poles, providing Henry a perfect cover for what came next. Whenever a library employee walked by, he made a clicking sound with his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Then, highly amused with himself, he'd laugh his neurotic laugh, shaking his shoulders up and down, inhaling and exhaling excitedly. One afternoon I got so annoyed with him that I shot at him with the stapler that I was carrying. I shouldn't have done it - it just egged him on.My mom was one of the information ladies, and sat at the front desk of her building. Henry used to come in and chat with my mom. Mostly he'd just giggle, hunching his shoulders up and down over some joke known only to him. On good days, he could tell her about the bus ride he'd just taken.One year around Thanksgiving, my mom asked Henry if he would like for her to bring him a turkey sandwich. Henry's face lit up. He would LOVE a sandwich! My mom told me that day about the turkey sandwich that she was going to take for Henry on Friday. She even shopped for special bread and pickles for his sandwich. On Friday, Henry came in and went over to the pay phone to collect his daily dimes. Then he started to leave the building! My mom called to him and said, "Henry, don't you want your sandwich?" He had no recollection of any promise to make a sandwich for him. As he approached her desk, my mom proudly went over and got the sandwich and other goodies that she'd prepared for him. Henry examined the sandwich. Whole wheat bread, mayo, turkey, and pickle slices. He looked at my mom and slapped the sandwich down on the counter. "I'm not eating that," he told her. My poor mom, crestfallen, asked why. "It's got mayonnaise on it," he said. I don't eat that crap." Then he hunched his shoulders up and down, giggled, and sauntered away in his big shoes. leaving my mother with a beautiful turkey sandwich.