The Unclean Man

When I first met my wife, I told her about my previous marriages and nefariousness. (Yeah, I did some shit, but never went to jail..thankfully). She declined going out with me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling we were meant to meet and be together. At 2am on a Sunday morning, this story woke me up. I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep, but the story seemed to be on some internal loop. I finally gave up, got out a typewriter and wrote the story seen here. She read it, changed her mind. We’ve been together since April 1988. This is pretty much unedited and copied from the original draft.

The Unclean Man

John W Curry

March 1988 Robersonville NC

There was a gentleman who was very meticulous about everything in his life. He wore his hair very neatly and shaved twice a day just to look his best at all times. He only wore white suits and would always have a suit cleaned, even after one wearing. He showered twice daily, so he would never feel dirty or grimy.

In his home everything had its own particular place. Clothes that he had worn during the day were folded and put into the hamper. Personal toiletries were arranged neatly in the medicine cabinet. All were organized so that each item had its own little niche. He was indeed—-a very clean man.

Every morning he took the 7:15 bus into the city. Though he lived in a very large metropolis, on the bus, it was like a very small town. He saw the same people on the bus every day, and they always made an effort to greet one another. In spite of their friendliness, no one knew their fellow rider’s names. Instead, they always referred to someone by how they appeared physically or by some odd characteristic.

There was the bald man, the hippie, the smoker, the shopping lady with her plastic storage bags, the owl, always with a novel and round spectacles push low over his nose. And, of course, there was the Clean Man.

One morning, as he went through his usual ritual of careful grooming, he began to wonder what was asked him to go through this routine every morning. There was no one in his life. He was trying to impress, nor was there anyone in his love life that he was trying to look good for. He didn’t even own a pet. He was alone, just himself and his little apartment.

He looked around his neatly laid out bathroom. He pondered briefly upon what he was about to do. Slowly, he began to rearrange his medicine cabinet. He put the comb where his razors would be normally. Lotions, colognes, and medicines were transposed so that nothing remained in its own designated spot. He reached into the clothes hamper and took out an arm full of dirty laundry. He walked through the apartment, tossing shirts, and underwear over the furniture and onto the floor. He next moved to the pictures on the walls and adjusted them, not to make them straight, but to leave them askew.

He walked back to the bathroom. He pulled back to floral design shower curtains and reached for the shower controls. He stopped abruptly. For once, he was going to go out to the world differently, he was going to go out— unclean.

No one on the bus noticed any change the first morning. He just sat quietly, relishing his little secret. As the days went by, it became increasingly impossible to miss the fact that the Clean Man was now the Unclean Man. His clothes were always rumpled and dingy. He never shaved and his hair was unkempt and never combed.

Worst of all was the odor. To the Unclean Man this was a reward. He found that he could stand next to one of his friends and they would move from their seat to get away from him. It became a game he played every day. Musical seats. First, he would take one seat, then he would move next to someone else until he had their seat.

After a few months of being the Unclean Man, he found himself standing at the back of the line waiting to board the bus. Just before he placed his foot on the first step the driver quickly slammed the doors in his face. As the bus slowly pulled into traffic, the people on board cheered. Their faces glided by as the bus pulled away. And then he saw her. A new face. A new passenger. She had light brown hair and a smile that can only be described as radiant. He knew that this was the person he had waited to meet his whole life.

The Unclean Man looked down at his clothes. He saw how dirty he was and knew that he was going to have to change if he wanted to romance her. He started by cleaning his apartment. Everything went back to its former place. Pictures were straightened, dishes long neglected were cleaned. Furniture was dusted and carpets vacuumed.

He started on himself next. He looked long and hard in bathroom mirror at the person he had become. He vowed never to let this happen again. He showered until the hot water ran out. Then he shaved three times to make sure that every bit of stubble was gone. He dressed in one of the white suits and went to the mall to get his haircut.

As he left the barbershop he felt refreshed—like a renewed man. He walked through the mall feeling good about everything in his life. He couldn’t believe just how his life had gone so awry. He knew that when he boarded the bus in the morning, everyone would see him as his former, clean self. He especially looked forward to meeting the Lady With the Smile that had brought about such a change in him.

The Unclean, but now Clean Man, boarded the bus as usual the next morning, and looked around for a seat near the new passenger. Not finding one, he grabbed that handrail running along the ceiling. He stood in the aisle between the Lady With the Smile and the Bald Man. The Bald Man, as he was accustomed to, got up from his seat when he saw the Clean Man. The Clean Man looked at him, but the ball man just walked away. The clean man now sat directly across from the Lady With the Smile.

“Hi,“ the man said, “I’ve never seen you on the bus before.“

“No, it’s just my second day riding,“ she said and smiled her radiant smile.

She warmed his heart like no one before had ever done. They continue talking for several blocks. He knew that this was a woman he had always wanted to meet. This was the woman he was meant to share his life. He knew all this in only a few moments of speaking to her.

The Owl sat next to her reading a Harold Robbins novel, but listening in on the conversation. Leaning closer to the new passenger, he spoke quietly into her ear and a frown replaced her radiant smile as she looked at the newly Clean Man.

“Are you the Unclean Man,“ she asked.

“I was but now I’m clean,” he replied.

”I heard about you,” she said.

The Clean-Unclean man held out the lapel of his white suit jacket for her approval. She only looked away, not acknowledging his born again cleanliness.“I was clean my whole life, well until recently,” he told her.

He looked around at his friends. He said, “ they can tell you this is how I really am—- honest.”

The Clean-Unclean man searched the faces of his friends for help, but they only turned their heads. They remembered him as the Unclean Man. Though he had regained his former self, they could only see him as he had been.

“Everyone, look at me,” he pleaded, “I’m not dirty anymore. Don’t you remember how I was? Don’t you recognize me? I know that I was different for a while, but it wasn’t me. I don’t know why I did it, but that’s all behind me now. Look! Look! “

No one spoke. No one welcomed him back. They all looked at him with no understanding, no emotion, no compassion. Slowly, they each went back to what they had been doing.

The Clean Man sat in a seat. He knew that what he had done was wrong, but was this fair? Being unclean was not how he really was. This is how he really truly was. Clean, very clean. He looked around at the people on the bus, but no one would look back. They had shut him out of their world.

The next morning, he stood at the bus stop as usual. When the 7:15 bus arrived, he did not board. He watched it as it pulled away from the curb and was swallowed by the morning traffic.

The 7:25 bus arrived next. The Clean Man got on board and made his way down the aisle. He had never before been on this bus. Here were people who were complete strangers. As he passed, the passengers looked at him and smiled. They had never seen anyone so clean before. They each greeted him and welcomed him into their small community.

The Clean Man felt this was a new beginning. He did not feel he was running away from anything. Instead, he was leaving behind people that could not forgive him for his mistakes. He was leaving behind people that could not accept temporary weaknesses in someone else. He was going to make new friends that did not know of his past uncleanness.

And, he would never tell them.