eternia

He has been homeless ever since I started working at the Eatons Centre in 2000, and probably a lot longer. He has a crooked nose and a French-ish accent. My sis calls him Golum, because, well… You could see him whispering “my preciouuuusss”. Sometimes he looks clear-eyed and clear-headed. Other times he is dirty and deshevelled. He is always sober. He is definitely mentally ill.

He Always Remembers Me.

Today I ran into him holding the door to the Queen street subway station, begging for change. I’m not sure who lit up more when we saw each other, him or me. He sprung up from his position on the ground.

“It’s so good to see you, you’re beautiful!” , says Salem to me.

“It’s so good to see YOU, Salem, you look like you’re taking care of yourself!”, I respond with enthusiasm.

“I saw your album, the one where you’re on the train tracks…”, he talks fast, like an excited 6-year-old. I’m shocked he remembers me showing him the album a year ago. “I want to go sit on the train tracks and think of you, tell me what song I can think of to think of you on the train tracks…”

“It’s not safe, you could get hit by a train, please don’t sit on the train tracks,” I interject.

“No, I want to sit on the train tracks and think of you! Tell me a song to remember you by,” he insists.  A second time I protest,

“Salem, its not safe. Please don’t”.

Salem does not give up.

“I want to go sit on the train tracks and think of you! Please give me a song I can remember when I am there, that will make me think of you.”

“Ok! Ok!”, and without a second thought to the rush hour of pedestrian traffic clamoring to get into the subway, with Salem still holding the door and his change cup, I start to sing clearly, “So Far Away… Doesn’t anybody stay in one place anymore? It would be so fine to see your Face at my Door… Doesn’t help to know… You’re just miles away.”

He looks at me like he’s familiar with Carol King.

“Ok!” He clocks it in his memory bank, like he has me, the fact that I moved to New York, the fact that I cut my hair, and the fact that I have an album cover where I am sitting on railroad tracks. Then he says he wants to take me to lunch.

“Next time, Salem. I’m late for my show.” And I am. I’m humbled that he would offer to treat me.  

We said our goodbyes. I wanted to hug him but he’s not the touchy-feely type. I gave him all my change, and a TTC token. I told him we’d see each other again soon.

And we will.

There are one hundred and one reasons why I adore Toronto, its familiarity, its sights, sounds and uniquely vibrant make-up.