Hopeful Encounter Essay, Research Paper
Hopeful Encounter
The sun was setting. Far to the east, threatening black clouds arose from the fumes of
pollution from the several smokestacks towering over the city. The streets were pocks marked
and dented with the recent shower of acid rain. Hot boiling steam from the sewers made the
temperature of day much hotter than it really was. Just outside the borders of the city is a lake
covered with muck and crude oil spills. Death and despair floated aimlessly on the surface of the
inhospitable body of water. Corpses of dead fish, seagulls… bobbed just under the rim of the
black slime.
The black slime sensing fresh prey, extended its corrupt and revolting tendrils
farther…until it caught another unsuspecting victim, choking and engulfing, destroying, leaving
just another empty shell behind, devoid of any life. Night set in; the stars were obscured by thick
blankets of smoke. The day was done. Stores got ready to lock up and streetlights were turned on
to aid the breadwinners, so they may travel safely. Few were fortunate enough to own
automobiles so they could avoid the cold dangerous streets and dark alleyways. Most shops were
already abandoned, finished for the day. Yet few doors were still open, desperate for any last
minute customers. One such shopkeeper was Phil Anderson. Anderson had worked as a
pharmacist for most of his life. At forty, he had little to show for.
The pollution that caused the gradual decay of the city had had negative effects on
business, as well as the environment. Phil, though by all means not an old man, showed signs of
premature aging. His skin was pale and dry, wrinkled by the everyday punishment of the
deteriorating surroundings. Few strands of grayish white hair lined his almost bald, dandruff
infested scalp. Looking at Phil with his characteristic limp, slouched posture and bulging belly
one might think him an extremely unathletic person. But then again it was not entirely his fault.
His eyes were red and bloodshot, the glasses he wore only made these features more obvious.
With shaking skinny hands, Phil slowly put away the last of the items on top of the counter.
Finally done, he flicked off the lights and rummaged through his pockets for his keys. Looking
one last time to make sure the shop was in order, Phil locked up the store and left. He failed t o
notice a dark shadow spying on him as he counted the bills he had earned today, and put it away
into his black leather wallet.
The tall dark figure studied the pharmacist a while longer before trailing him. The narrow
dirty street smelled of weeks old garbage and animal wastes. Smog was still thick in the air
causing him to cough repeatedly. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Remembering his
air filter in his pocket, Phil gingerly took it out and put it on. Feeling much better Phil continued
down the street, heaving a sigh of relief. He headed towards home, but soon remembering that he
always stops by the Charleston Bar for a drink or two, Phil abruptly changed direction. Sounds of
laughter and grumbling reached his ears as Phil pushed open the doors of the Charleton. The
Charlton is located at Bradleys Street, just a couple of blocks away from Phil’s Pharmacy. Often
did Phil come here to unload and forget his problems. This old bar is small and a little rundown
but by no means deserted. Though built with concrete, The Charleton was wooden inside. It was
dimly lit by old-fashioned lanterns placed along the walls, that gave it an atmosphere of
relaxation. At least the problems of the world can be temporarily forgotten in here, drowned out
in a pint of beer.
A low slanted ceiling hung over head. Years of exposure to acid rain caused the wood to
decay. Wood fillings was occasionally used to patch up the holes. Although the variety of
alcoholic beverages served here was not abundant, the ones they did have were quite popular.
Their Spinner and Geinis for example, were among the house favorites. Few scattered chairs and
tables were spread around the room in no apparent order. Most were occupied. A middle aged
couple sat in the middle of the room talking softly amongst themselves, minding their own
business. Far in the shadows of the corner was a young lad, who it seemed to Phil, was too
Young to have legally entered the bar.
Clutched in his hands was the weaker of the drinks that the bar offered. Yet the young
inexperienced drinker wobbled heavily in his seat, unaccustomed to anything containing alcohol.
He must have sneaked in, Phil thought casually, many do. These days no one really cares
anymore. Scattered around the rest of the Charleton were the usual bunch, a few bums, workers
who had shops close to the Charleton, and young ones who find the world outside too harsh and
demanding, so they come here to seek shelter. But it was no permanent shelter, Phil knew. They
would have to face their problems all too soon. There was one person in the crowed that Phil did
not recognize. He was a newcomer, Phil knew, because He was sitting on his favorite stool, up
on the counter. He sat alone sipping on his Spinner with long easy gulps, marking him a frequent
visitor to Taverns. The stranger had clear blue eyes and sandy colored hair. The corner of his
eyes mouth were drawn with lines, proof of the hard times. He was of normal built and seemed a
little taller than average height. His posture was a little stooped, he probably worked on
construction or something straining to the body. The newcomer was no means unattractive
though, Phil would guess he could pick up a girl or two any day.
There was something refreshing about him. A certain aurora of confidence and hope
radiated from him. Maybe it was the way he handled himself, or something else, made Phil
curious about him. He decided to walk over to talk to him. Phil leaned slightly on his right leg
making his way to bar. The floor boards creaked with each step Phil took. The floor was old, but
still had a lot of years in them. Phil came up to the counter, “The usual Frank”, he said, going to
the seat beside the stranger, he looked to him for approval, before sitting down. The stranger who
introduced himself as Bill, grunted his approval and motioned to the seat opposite of him. Phil
smiled and took the stool beside the newcomer. Phil introduced himself, ” I’m Phil Anderson.”
“One guineas coming up”, Frank bellowed while pouring Phil s drink. The Pharmacist and Bill
immediately started on a light conversation. “So, I haven’t seen you around? Are you new here?”
Bill Stevens was the driver of a furniture delivery, who just happened to have a job in the area.
After dropping off a truckload of furnishings for a certain Mr. Jones. He decided to head for a
bar on his break, to quench his thirst. Bill casually mentions to Phil that he was the father of two.
Phil shook his head in astonishment, “In times like these, how do you manage?” Bill related to
some bad times, but brightly spoke of how he always managed to pull through. “What do you
do?”, Bill asked after speaking of his family. “I run a pharmacy not far from here!” “Thats pretty
good. You must make quite a lot”, Bill responded, sincerely. “No, just enough”, Phil sighted.
That must still be pretty good… I mean a pharmacy? People need a drug store!” “Sometimes”,
Phil replied then shook his head. A moment of silence followed before Phil finally spoke. “So
what do you think will happen … in the future, I mean?”, Phil asked pessimistically. Bill raised
his eyebrows, “What do you mean?” “We’re all going to die! Can’t you see what’s happening all
around? What do you think I mean?”, Phil burst out in a fit of anger. “C’mon Phill, it’s not that
bad, people are working on recycling, were cutting down on fossil fuels, using solar energies,
using products that are environmentally friendly and trying to stop deforestation. Some day we’re
all going to wake up and this will all be a bad dream.”, Bill stated with confidence and
conviction. “Recycling? You really think that’s going to do any good? It’s too late! We’ve done
enough damage to the earth to last an eternity. The pollution on earth is like a cancerous growth,
incurable a
from here”, Phil sobbed. He then took a long pull on his mug. Bill was surprised at the weakness
that Phil just demonstrated.
He looked at Phil sympathetically, “Phil, what you say is true, we have polluted our
world extensively. But there is still hope. We can turn this around. As a parent I should be more
concerned than you, because I have my children s future to worry about. If we try hard, we’ll pull
through, I’m sure of this. But we have to Fight and fight hard. We may not do it this generation
or even the next, but our children and our children s children will carry on. We’ll manage!” Phil
looked to Stevens in shock. That was the biggest piece of crap he had heard in his whole lifetime.
Yet what Bill said got him thinking. Could there really be hope? Phil did not know. Bill was a
father of two children, he believes that they will have a future, how can he be so optimistic?
Maybe it wasn t as bad as he thought it was, yet it wasn t as easy as bill said it would it either.
But what chance does the world have by thinking negatively, and doing nothing but complain
and grumble about the past. Instead of inaction, why not contribute and help. Instead of making
the problem worse than it already is. Nothing is to be gained by negatively; a whole world could
be lost. Think of a brighter future, and pitch in, the world can be saved. After contemplating this,
he changed his outlook, from bleak to hopeful.
He met Bill’s gaze with a determined look, “You may be right, but in my point of view it
may very well go the other way. People might be too greedy to care about the world, even if it
meets destruction.” “I agree”, Bill replied, thoughtfully. “But we have to always have a positive
attitude.” Phil nodded, happy that Stevens accepted, only if to a small extent, his opinion. “Yes”,
he repeated, “A positive attitude.” Phil still had his doubts. Big corporations that had so much to
lose by employing costly pollution reduction techniques might be reluctant to cooperate.
Ignorant individuals who thinks “oh the other guy will do it” will make efforts, futile. If you
don’t start participating, who will? All you can do is set an example, and hope that others will
follow your lead. This and more, Bill had taught him Both men sat there for a few more minutes
sipping their drinks. Soon Bill stood up and prepared to leave, He said goodbye to Phil. Phil
Anderson held up his hand, “Wait which way are you headed?” Stevens reversed the question,
“Which way are you going?” “Just up the road to Bay Street”, Phil replied. “What a coincidence,
I’m going the same way too”, Bill exclaimed. “Just wait I’ll come with you, give me a sec to
finish this off.” Phil gulped down the remaining contents of guineas in his mug. His friends Tom,
Ray and Wil urged him to stay a while longer, for another round of drinks. But Phil politely
declined. They usually go home together. There’s safety in numbers. Especially at hard times like
these, where robbers and thieves roaming the streets is commonplace. Tonight, Phil wanted to
accompany his new friend. After a quick goodbye to his buddies, Phil rose and joined Bill, they
opened the doors of the Charelton and headed out to the streets. Phil felt a certain bond towards
Bill, he inspired hope and confidence.
Phil hadn’t felt this certain of himself for so long that he forgot how great it felt. He knew
that this would be a start of a good friendship. “So tell me more about yourself and your kids,
what do you do to help the environment?”, Phil wanted to know. Bill did not answer, he seemed
to be preoccupied with some other thoughts. “Are you all right?” ,Phil asked. “Oh, sorry I was
just thinking about something.” “What?”, the Pharmacist inquired. “How to rob you!”, came
Bill’s reply. Phil looked to Stevens in shocked disbelief, he then noticed the smile that was
playing across Bill’s face, and realized it was a joke. Phil laughed long and hard, he hasn’t felt
this good in a while. They walked down a few more blocks and were approaching the run down
part of town.”This place always gives me the creeps, it really helps that your with me.” “Yeah…
right.”, Bill said. They were walking down a particullary dark alleyway when Bill suddenly
stopped. He looked around to make sure nobody was around. Phil, puzzled asked, “Something
wrong Bill?” “Nothing”, came the answer, “everything is just fine.” Bill suddenly grabbed the
scruff of Phil’s shirt and pushed him against the wall. “Bill what are you doing?”, Phil cried out,
frightened and confused. “What does it look like I’m doing you fat bastard!”, Bill snapped
sarcastically. Now, where’s your wallet?”, the thief demanded. “Bill I don’t get it? Why are you
doing this?”, Phil croaked weakly, even more confused now. “Why am I doing this? Are you that
stupid? To survive in this polluted dump!” Phil shook his head, struggling in vain to break free of
Bill’s grasp. “What about all the things you said about the world being a better place?”, Phil
asked desperately. “What about your family, your kids?” “You actually believed all that bull. I
just told you whatever it took to get you out of that bar and get you here. So I can do this!” Phil
saw coldness in Bill, his expression, distant and unfeeling.
The Bill he had met at the Charleton was no more. Replaced by a cold and calculated
thief. “You really meant what you said in the bar, I can tell! You really did! It’s true, we’ll
survive! You can’t be like this. I know there’s good in Bill Stevens!” Phil sputtered. “That’s not t
true and you know it, and you believed it! You were a fool to have me trick you!” “Listen Bill,
everyone can change, you made me believe. I was wrong to simply complain and do nothing
when I could help save the world. If we all pitch in, as you said, it can really work!” Phil pleaded
with the thief, trying to make him see reason. Bill hesitates for a moment and his expression
softened, revealing desperation and guilt. But then in seconds, the mask of coldness returned.
Bill fixed Phil with a hard stare, then reached into Phil’s pocket. “This is my life, what I do, I
can’t change now. It’s too late!”, Bill said, as if it was any consolation to Phil. “It’s never too
late!”, Phil cried, “Bill, just hear me out!” Bill snorted and gave Phil a swift and strong blow to
the abdomen, dropping him to the pavement like a ton of bricks. Doing that, Bill ran off and
disappeared into the night. Leaving a crumpled, pathetic form, lying in the dirty deserted
alleyway. The pitter patter of rain drops soon bombarded the city. Sulphurous clouds
released pounding sheets acid rain. Though this downpour did not cool the city in any way.
Steam from the gutters still erupted with unrelented pressure. As the stinging pelts continued
their assault on nature.
The lake outside the borders of the city was filled with more bodies of helpless victims,
that slowly suffered, because of man. The moon was still not seen, nor will it be, anytime in the
future, as dark swirling clouds obscured the sky. IN the alley, the rain fell down upon Phil as he
sat penniless and hopeless in a puddle. The acidic rain burned through Phil’s coat, gradually
eroding away the fabric. Footsteps headed towards Phil in urgent haste. “Phil, what happened?
Are you all right?”, Tom called out. Phil’s buddies in the Charleton had just finished their drinks
and were just heading home. Tom, who spotted Phil hunched on the pavement and quickly came
to see what was wrong. Ray and Wil followed not too far behind but elected to keep silent.
Depressed and angry, Phil simply wanted to be alone right now, “Get out of here! Go away!
Leave me alone”, he shouted in between tears. Tom flinched at the harshness of Phil’s tone. He
glanced one more time at his friend and walked away. Wil and Ray not knowing what to do
followed Tom’s example and granted Phil’s request for privacy. Cold and numb, Phil put his
hands into his pockets in a pitifull attempt to stay warm. After losing all his money, he was even
more depressed than ever. Reaching deeper into his pocket, Phil felt a rectangular leather object,
then smiled. Once again, Phil Anderson, felt hope.