He lives around the corner from my mother
and he walks every day
from his house,
up past her house,
and down the road on the other side,
then back up that road
and past my mother's
and back to his house again,
and back and forth
and back and forth
at a purposeful pace
for an old man,
who must think his speed will hide his age.
He wears a baseball cap
with no team on it,
and he keeps his arms straight
when he walks
quickly without smiling.
There are no cars
where he lives and walks,
just an every so often UPS truck
or the mail carrier,
yet he wears a blaze orange vest,
maybe to show his neighbors
he is there
if they're looking out the window.
Although I've been there when he's walked,
and I've said hello or smiled,
he's spoken to me only once in return
as I was walking the dog
past him.
Not to say hello,
but to reprimand me.
"You should be on the other side of the road, you know,"
he said,
even though there are no cars going past
where he lives and walks.
He has a reputation
in the neighborhood.
He cut down tall trees once.
Or maybe he planted trees that were too tall,
I don't know.
Whichever it was,
the neighbors were unhappy.
The neighbors still talk.
I've walked down the road where I think he lives
alone.
His house was once cared for.
It looks like a long ago stage set where
they forgot to put away a few pieces of the scenery
after the the play closed.
The blinds are closed
even though his house overlooks the water.
He leaves his garage door open
and it's mostly empty
except for an old red and white cooler,
an old Maine license plate hanging on the wall,
and a Weber grill off kilter
in the corner.
He leaves his recycling bin up high
on the ledge near the driveway
so he doesn't have to bend, I imagine,
when he brings it to the curb.
Today I went to the grocery store
to buy fruit and coffee and milk
and he was there
alone in the greeting card aisle
wearing a basesball cap
and a light jacket.
I saw him and I slowed down.
I could have pictured him buying fruit
or coffee or milk.
But never a card.
Who did this solitary man
have
to buy a card for?
I guessed at best a half hearted get well or deepest sympathies one,
Or for a swell great nephew for some occasion or other.
Instead, he reached up to the top row
and took down a bright pink oversized card
with a dancing dog
and balloons and stars,
and the words Happy Birthday, Sweet Little Princess!
He held it with both hands.
I will look for him tomorrow.
