DB: Peace Walkers

I’ve been mugged in this city … more than once. I don’t usually like to talk about it, some part of me thinks that if I pretend the streets are safe then more people will come out and be on them and then they really will be safe. I bring it up here because I had an interesting encounter with a gentlemen at 2 am this past Wednesday. Yes, out on the streets of our intrepid borough, Tacoma.

My friend Alex and I were inspired by side A of a record we had been listening to, the “Friend” album by my new favorite band, Grizzly Bear (he hit me and it felt like a kiss). We decided to take a late night walk and watch the low clouds roll past, lit orange by the city’s glow and cast in silent contrast with the deathly purple sky. The wind from the port sends them low and fast, soft over the hills, and close enough to seem as if they brush the tops of the turning leaves and brick facades.

Wandering up from the warehouse on Court E, I felt that creepy feeling that we were very alone and began to remind myself that I had nothing to steal. We didn’t look intimidating, by any means, but there were two of us and that makes all the difference. I had left my phone, wallet and everything except my house-key at home. I had a quick fantasy about a mugger just beating me out of rage for not having what he wanted … but put it out of my mind and assured myself that my new runner’s lungs could bolt from what ever nasty presented itself. “We are good men,” I whispered beneath my breath, “Good men who attract good things, peace will breed peace.”

My affirmations quipped my fear and allowed me to continue to enjoy the surreality of the night. On the horizon, framed in the alleyway between the tall apartment buildings on South 7th, the silhouette of a lone pedestrian approached. I controlled my urge to hop the vine covered fence and sprint through the parking lot to the safety of the streetlights on Fawcett Ave, and my mind raced as I realized that we had walked into a very un-public path. Short of a cop catching a glimpse of the alleged robbery in progress as he drove by the alley out the corner of his eye, we were invisible to the nonexistent traffic. The last time I reported a crime, the cop told me to buy a gun. I thought about it, and decided I was still glad I didn’t. Unwaveringly the figure walked toward us with a cane in his right hand and I showed none of the fear I felt as we stayed the course one taunt foot ready to kick in front of the other.

It dawned on me that this person had far more to fear than we, after all there were two of us, our peacoats could have been hiding all sorts of knives and automatic riffles, our skullcaps covering our skinned heads. As he came into view, he moved so that we would pass on his right, putting the cane between us. A tangled blast of small dreaded spider legs jumbled out from under a Crocodile Dundee hat and from the shadows of his face a surprisingly friendly voice nearly sang, “Hey! I’m telling jokes for spare change! Wanna hear a great joke?”

I almost fell over into Alex with a mixture of surprise and relief as the man took one more step out of the shadows and the light showed him dressed in a denim tuxedo, his cane an ornate carved sapling and his eyes as soft as they were clear.

“I didn’t bring any money,” I said, “Just out for a night stroll.” “Ok,” he said acceptingly, “I’m new here in town, I’m a Peace Walker and my name is Sebastian.” “OH!,” I said a little too happily, “This is a good town!” I wanted him to know that we were good people, out here on the streets, at night … with good intentions … in a good town. I wanted him to decide to stay, to stay and help my streets to be filled with peace. “Yes”, he said, “seems like a good town. And feel free to walk at night.” With that strange phrase we parted and continued our chilly stroll lost in a fearless and passionate conversation about our failed relationships with beautiful girls.

Later in the week Alex saw Sebastian again by Urban Xchange, he was excited that Alex was able to remember his name … and I think he even told him some free jokes just for the pleasure of laughing with a peaceful man.