Falconer+-+John+Cheever

Falconer 167
At a distant corner under a street light he saw another man. This
could be an agent from the Department of Correction, he guessed,
or given his luck so far, an agent from heaven. Above the stranger
was a sign that said: BUS STOP. NO PARKING. The stranger
smelled of whiskey and at his feet was a suitcase draped with
clothes on hangers, an electric heater with a golden bowl shaped
like the sun and a sky-blue motorcycle helmet. The stranger was
utterly inconsequential, beginning with his lanky hair, his
piecemeal face, his spare, piecemeal frame and his highly
fermented breath. “Hi,” he said. “What you see here is a man who
is been evicted. This ain’t everything I own in the world. I’m
making my third trip. I’m moving in with my sister until I find
another place. You can’t find nothing this late at night. I ain’t been
evicted because of nonpayment of rent. Money I got. Money’s one
thing I don’t have to worry about. I got plenty of money. I been
evicted because I’m a human being, that’s why. I make noises like
a human being, I close doors, I cough sometimes in the night, I
have friends in now and then, sometimes I sing, sometimes I
whistle, sometimes I do yoga, and because I’m human and make a
little noise, a little human noise going up and down the stairs, I’m
being evicted. I’m a disturber of the peace.”
“That’s terrible,” said Farragut.
“You hit the nail on the head,” said the stranger, “you hit the nail
on the head. My landlady is one of those smelly old widows—
they’re widows even when they got a husband drinking beer in the
kitchen—one of those smelly old widows who can’t stand life in
any form, fashion or flavor. I’m being evicted because I’m alive
and healthy. This ain’t all I own, by a long shot. I took my TV over
on the first trip. I got a beauty. It’s four years old, color, but when
I had a little snow and asked the repairman to come in, he told me
never, never turn this set in for a new one. They don’t make them
like this anymore, he said. He got rid of the snow and all he
charged me was two dollars. He said it was a pleasure to work on a