Missed it last week, kinda spaced out, kinda had plans with the family. But I’m back.
The Old Man
– Gabe Thexton
———-
I walk two blocks to the bus stop and sit down. I do it every day. I look at the ground, trace the cracks in the cement with my eyes, kick pebbles with my toes. I hear feet, I see black shoes, I look up. The old man is dressed in all black, he carries with him an empty black sack. He nods and walks by. Into the cemetery he goes, I watch his back and his slow steady pace. He disappears into the forest of trees and tombstones. I pull out my phone and look at it, 9:02am June 1st. The bus is late. I look back but I can’t see him. A car slows down and Alicia says get in. She’s my neighbor, her husband Tom and I have beers and watch football sometimes, she lookes flushed. It’s her and Toms’ anniversary she says, they took the day off and she’s going to get some late breakfast. She drops me off at work. I say goodbye, I thank her for the ride.
It’s September, I walk about the house singing Green Day. New neighbors move in, on the other side of Tom and Alicia. Kerri and I meet them on the first morning. Tom comes over to meet them also, Alicia has morning sickness, she’s four months along, Tom apologizes. Allen and Malia, they have one son that’s two, Sean. And a quiet dog, I appreciate that. Allen joins Tom and I for beer and football, he’s an NFL guy, Tom and I joke about overpaid players and he takes it well. The girls take care of Alicia. She gets bigger.
Winter is here, November. I sit at the bus stop in the cold. I go to work. I come home on the bus. I get off and stop. I see the old man, dressed in black. He is coming through the fog in the cemetery. He moves out of the gate and his bag is full. It’s dark and he is lit by the streetlights. I stand and watch. He crosses the street and we walk at the same pace on opposite sidewalks. He pauses in front of Allen and Malia’s house, kneels down. I see their bedroom light on. He’s looking in the bag. I can’t stare, I cross the street and go home. I look out five minutes later. His silhouette outlined in streetlight yellow, his bag empty, the old man walks toward the cemetary.
It’s Valentines day Alicia is in the hospital, her baby might come early. We all go to visit. Alicia and Malia talk about babies, Malia is three months along and starting to show. Kerri’s fingers flirt with my hand. We say goodbye, have really nice Italian for lunch. We walk home, she wants a baby, I laugh and accuse her of trying to keep up with the Joneses. Her fingers flirt with my biceps as I fumble for the key. She pours wine and we drink and clothes fall to the floor. Later I get up to get my robe, I glance out the window, I see the old man. He is walking toward the cemetery, his bag is empty.
I sit under my umbrella, it’s May. I see the old man coming from the cemetery. His bag is full. I wait for him to get closer. I stand as he nears, I speak.
“Thank you.” He pauses, nods.
“No-one ever talks to me.” He looks sad. I don’t know what to say.
“Well, uhh, thank you.” He looks at me.
“Can I ask you a question?” He’s timid.
“Sure, yeah.” I wait as he stutters.
“W-Wh Wha-What’re you g-going to call her?”
“Her?” his face sinks.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” He starts to walk away, he walks faster than usual. I run after him. The bus rolls by and we get wet. I walk beside him. His head hangs low.
“We’re going to call her Amaya. Thank you.” He turns his head toward me. Rain traces the old lines in his face.
“No son, Thank you.” He smiles and walks on. I stop and watch as he turns a corner.
I go back to the stop to wait. I call in late for work. I call Kerri and bet her fifty dollars that we’re going to have a girl. She laughs. I see the old man go by. His sack is empty. He turns at the gate and waves at me, and he disappears into the forest of trees and tombstones.
