Man with No Arms

By WILLIAM ALDRIDGE

             “Could you help me?” the stranger asked the man at the bus stop.

            Charlie looked up, startled and suspicious, and squinted at the man through the late evening mist.

            “Could you pull the hood from my face,” asked the stranger. “I have no arms.”

            “Sorry, fellow,” Charlie said, happy to see the lighted bus coming down the street. “Sorry, but I am on my way to the hospital. I’ve a bad heart. I’ve got to be careful. Got a bad heart.” To the bus driver, Charlie said, “I should have lent him a hand. Simple thing. But he made me nervous. Dressed in a big black cape. Could barely see his eyes. Made my heart beat fast. And me on my way to the doctor’s for my ulcer acting up.” Charlie looked out of the bus window and saw the stranger stop in front of old Mrs. Reslap’s place.

            “Excuse me,” said the stranger to the old woman. “Could you help me?”

            Old Mrs. Reslap squinted at the stranger through her yellow eyes.

            “What kind of help you want?”

            “Will you pull the hood from my face – I have no arms.”

            “I ain’t spry like I used to be. You young people don’t know what it’s like, the least effort, after you reach seventy.” She sat on her porch, in the dim light of the street lamp and shouted across the yard to the stranger, “You go on down a bit, you’ll find someone else to do your chore. Don’t come bothering old ladies. You ain’t that bad off.”

            “Thank you, anyway,” said the stranger and walked on. At the corner, to the side of the church, he stopped in front of Reverend Casey, just stepping from his car.

            “Excuse me, Reverend, could you help me. Will you pull the hood from my face? I have no arms.”

            “I certainly will,” said the Reverend. “I’ll be right with you. Just wait right here –or go inside while I put these papers in the safe.”

            For a long time the stranger stood patiently in front of the church. From inside came sounds of community activity: “As president of Novco—and these gentlemen will go along with me, Reverend – I feel it is imperative that you use your good offices to help us get Proposition Five passed…”

            The stranger walked on and on, coming at last to the edge of town. Halfway across a high bridge, he stopped near a man looking down into the water. “Sir,” he asked, “could you help me? Will you please pull the hood from my face, I have no arms.”

            “No,” said the man. “I won’t.” He climbed over the railing and hung on, looking sadly down at the rush of wild water.

            “Don’t jump,” pleaded the stranger. “I have no arms to assist you. You must help me. Pull the hood from my face.”

            The man jumped.

            The stranger walked on across the bridge, his head bent forward. For several hours he climbed the steep hill on the opposite side. At last, nearing the top, he stood for a moment looking at the sleepy face of a little girl in the second story window of a farm house.

            She raised the sash and looked down at him. “Are you lost?” she asked.

            “No,” he answered. “But perhaps you can help me. Will you pull the hood from my face? I have no arms.”

            “I’m not supposed to go outside at night. But…if you feel bad – I’ll come down…”

            At just that moment, an early morning wind blew through the tree tops, across the meadow, around the house, and gently lifted the hood from the stranger’s face. The face seemed to light up the entire mountain.

            “Are you the sun?” asked the little girl.

            “No,” said the stranger. “I am love.”

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