(I originally published a shorter version of this post in my monthly e-newsletter. If you wish to join my free mailing list, add your email address here.)

By Kevin S. Giles

When I was young I knew a man named Mickey. Despite his graying temples he was more of a boy like me. Mickey arrived in our hometown of Deer Lodge, Montana, in the summer. He became a conspicuous presence around town as he rode his bicycle everywhere, a thirty-something man pedaling with an oversized wire basket attached to the handlebars. The basket, he told me, was for running errands for the nuns at the Catholic Church.

Mickey came from the state school for the developmentally disabled at Boulder. My parents explained that a new law sent people who lived in institutions to towns and cities across Montana to live among us. I didn’t know much about such things at my tender age. However, I did come to know Mickey. When he saw me he smiled and shouted my name, showing the big gap between his top front teeth. “Kevvvvin!” he would sing, sincere in his enthusiasm.

Some of the kids shunned Mickey because they weren’t accustomed to seeing a man acting like a boy. I got over my discomfort after a few conversations with Mickey. He was gullible but trusting.

I frequently went to the outdoor basketball court behind the junior high school. It was there, one day, when I discovered several boys taunting Mickey. They threatened to take his bicycle. He was near tears. He had attempted to befriend them. They turned on him, evidently feeling stronger for it.

Find Kevin's books on Amazon (and leave a review, please!)

I can’t recall feeling that riled. My parents, particularly my mother, taught me compassion. “Never mistreat anyone who is less fortunate than you,” she often told me. I stepped in front of Mickey and grabbed his bike away from the bullies. I expected one or more of the boys to throw punches but none of them did. We exchanged a few heated words. “Don’t bother him again,” I recall telling them, feeling some bravado I didn’t know I had.

Mickey and I wheeled his bike away, me walking beside him with my basketball under my arm. He cried and thanked me. His bike was his most precious possession. “Thank you, Kevvvin, for helping me,” he said over and over.

I saw Mickey many times over the ensuing years. He worked at the Tiny Tot day care run by Sister Alice Clare. It was housed in the former St. Joseph Hospital where Dr. Bertoglio took my tonsils out when I was a fourth grader. Mickey worked in the day care. So did two other men from Boulder, Joe and Martin. Joe spoke gibberish and drooled a lot. Martin looked angry all the time.

When I visited, Mickey hurried to the lobby to greet me. I was older, a student at the University of Montana, but he never forgot me. He fussed over the small children, helping them with boots and coats, making sure they didn’t forget their lunch boxes.

The novel ‘Summer of the Black Chevy’ by Kevin S. Giles grew from memories of his hometown. The novel also takes place there, in Deer Lodge, Montana.

I didn’t see Mickey again for three or four years. I was married with children when I discovered he lived in a group home half a block from our duplex in Helena. He asked me if he could earn some money. In the winter I put him to work, gently, shoveling snow from our sidewalks. He worked until his nose dripped and his ears reddened from the cold. I invited him inside for hot chocolate beside the fireplace.

In years since I’ve thought many times about Mickey and how the themes of kindness and compassion played into stories I wrote.

I learned that he preferred his given name, which was Michael, because he was a man. Yes, he was. He was a man, a teacher of humility, a man seeking community compassion. Maybe that’s what emptying Montana’s mental institutions was all about. And, when I last saw Michael, he still had his bicycle with the basket on the front, waving at his neighbors as he pedaled down the street.

Receive Kevin's free e-letter! (In return you get his story, 'The Girl Behind the Glass')

Western Montana native Kevin S. Giles wrote the popular prison nonfiction work Jerry’s Riot, the coming-of-age novel Summer of the Black Chevy, and a biography of Montana congresswoman Jeannette Rankin, One Woman Against War, which is an expanded version of his earlier work, “Flight of the Dove.” His new novel, Headline: FIRE! is the third in the Red Maguire series. Masks, Mayhem and Murder is the second. The first is “Mystery of the Purple Roses.” More information is available at https://kevinsgiles.com.