As Rudy tells it, he bought the bottle of whisky, and me the cheap wine, and together we headed down into the Spadina Ravine Park. It’s basically a nature oasis in the heart of Toronto with lots of paths, so we knew there would some secluded places where we could enjoy ourselves, and we did.
He said we sang singing songs, like “99 bottles of beer on the wall”, something we learned in the mining and survey camps. Of course, we sang verses for other vices as well: smokes, whores, joints…
In the beginning, we sang pretty well… at least until the wine was gone. After that, I really couldn’t tell, since we had agreed to take a swig of whisky after each verse.
I remember telling Rudy, he had dropped the count, he had it all wrong. He wasn’t too pleased that I called him out on it.
Boy, that Rudy had a mouth on him! I never knew anyone could swear so creatively. But then he started getting moody and held back the whisky. That’s when we really started yelling at each other. But it was all smoothed over when I promised to buy the next bottle.
Rudy wanted more when we finished that one. He said he knew where the LCBO liquor store was, so we left the ravine and started walking. Well, let’s call it was it was, stumbling with our arms holding each other up.
As we walked, he kept saying, “It’s not far now, it’s just around the next corner.” After we passed that corner, then it became the next corner…
I was getting really tired and said I needed a rest, but he kept on… “Don’t rest boy, it’s just around the next corner.” When I finally gave up and sat down at the curb, he suggested I rest there, and he would get the booze and come back. I just needed to give him the money.
But of course, I wouldn’t. I really didn’t have any… or at least not enough for a bottle. I barely had enough money for the bus back to the mining camp tomorrow. And when I told him that, Rudy got really mad and started kicking me. I was down, and all I could see was his big black boots, kicking me. I tried to yell, but all I got was a mouth full of boot. I then passed out.
When I woke, I was alone … Rudy was gone. No sign of him, except for his muddy, bloodstained boots. What had happened to him? I fantasized that after he kicked me in the teeth, I got mad and hit him so hard, I knocked his socks and boots off.
That was five years ago. We finally met up today at the homeless shelter. Rudy said, he had been ashamed of what he did, and didn’t want to be continually reminded of it; so that was why he took off his blood-stained boots and left them there.
For me, that was an important day as well. I took those steel-toed boots and wore them back at the mining camp. They saved my life when some rocks came crashing down on my foot. The steel protected my toes and I was able to get my foot out quickly, and hobble away; thank god, because just then the whole rock ceiling came crashing down.
That sure scared me. I guess those boots were a turning point for both of us. How else could we have ended up here together, at the “Welcome Hall Mission,” serving meals to the homeless?