a shirtless man yelled at me

If there's one thing I've learned after living in a city for the past 5 years, it's this:

If someone yells "Hey!" at you, from a distance...

You do not, under any circumstances, turn around or acknowledge them.

Why?

Because anyone yelling at me -- who does not know my name -- is never going to tell me anything I want to hear.

Yesterday, I broke my own rule.

There's a set of train tracks right behind my apartment.

And I've heard there's a homeless encampment next to these train tracks about a mile away.

I've never been there, but I've been around long enough to know where it is.

Anyway, yesterday I'm walking Wallace up by the train tracks.

And from where I'm standing, there is a road about 50 yards away.

I look toward the road and see a shirtless man about to cross the tracks.

Then he looks over and sees me.

Part of my view is blocked by a dumpster, so as he takes a couple steps forward -- I don't see him anymore.

But I also notice that he doesn't cross the street...

Which means he is probably heading my direction.

Sure enough, about 5 seconds later, I see him walking around the dumpster toward me, and he yells:

"Hey bro! Can I talk to you for a second?"

In my head, I'm thinking:

"Jesus. No. You can't. Please don't. Please please do not."

But out loud, I say, reluctantly:

"Sure, man. What's up?"

As he walks toward us, Wallace starts to bark. I pull him to my side and get him to calm down.

The man walks up, and I see that he's both older and skinnier than I expected.

His shoulders are slouched forward. His face has been weathered by the sun. And he has a scar underneath his beard.

He's wearing loose navy blue work pants and a pair of work boots I've probably seen at Walmart before.

His eyes are sad.

"Hey man, my name is Redhawk," he says. "I'm looking for my wife and daughter. I can't find them. And I heard there was a camp around here."

"Oh man. I'm sorry," I say. "Yeah if you cross the train tracks here and go down that road where that white truck is, I've heard there's a camp at the back of that. How long have they been missing? Have you talked to the cops?"

"10 days. Yeah I've talked to the cops..."

I forget exactly what was said here. But it was clear that the cops weren't much help to Redhawk.

"Do you have a phone or anything?" I asked.

He then proceeded to tell me why he didn't trust cell phones and was relying on "spiritual guidance" instead to find his wife and daughter, because they have a "spiritual connection."

Now, I see why the cops might not have been much help. It's hard to determine where Redhawk's love for his family ends and where his unsteady mental footing begins.

But as he tells me about the horrible things that have happened to his family...

And turns his head away in tears while talking about his missing wife and daughter...

I'm glad I broke my rule about not talking to strangers.

Before we part, I shake his hand, look him in the eye, tell him my name, and wish him the best of luck.

He says thank you and tries to teach me a few phrases in what I assume is a Native American language.

"If you've got a girl you love or a wife..." he says as he walks away down the tracks...

And then he says some phrase I couldn't even begin to remember...

Which doesn't matter too much, because I'm not in any relationship serious enough to use it.

But I hope Redhawk gets to say it soon.