window

There I was today, sitting in the migrant worker seat, on the job with Son & Dad tree Service, Inc: Orkin Man Edition.

My boss, The Son had some quick drive-through banking to do. I stared mindlessly from the migrant worker seat when my eyes stumbled across THE Window across the street.

The Window: at the old Le Chateau Apartments (now called something less French). The very window from the dining room where the late Willy Kink and the late Patches lived years ago.

And in between the teller intercom squeals and the really dumb-ass jokes from my boss*, for a nanosecond I was transported back to 4:15am on Friday October 26, 2001.

Where Patches and I stared silently out that window. From his dining room.

And outside on the porch with slight sobs, we mourned the sudden death of Willy who passed eight hours earlier.

It was silent. We were speechless. And somewhere in there a hug was given as well as the most sincere of an “I love you” two guys can exchange without being gay.

Earlier, I couldn’t sleep. So in the middle of the night I went looking for Patches who had ran off on foot from the ER after the doc announced Willy was no more. Patches had made it home.

The cool night/morning air was inviting the Autumn. Willy’s damn TV still wouldn’t shut up about September 11th. The very few belongings Willy had left on this earth, scattered about. And Patches didn’t want me going near the bedroom, where his buddies were mourning Willy by doping it up (which ironically is what caused Willy’s death as he got hold of a bad batch of the same stuff).

I went alone and sat in the McDonald’s parking lot and waited for them to open. I held back tears over a sausage biscuit and hash browns as that damned Willie Nelson song “Always On My Mind” played subtly over the muzak. That’s a terrible song to hear when a friend has passed to the next world.

And in a moment I realized it was May 16, 2007 and I was wearing a uniform shirt and about to go spray pecan trees.

It’s been a long five and a half years, and sometimes I don’t know how I got from yesteryear’s “A” to today’s “B”.

But that window reminded me that it’s all just a journey. I guess.




*Jokes that I choose to endure, but getting closer every day to calling his dumb-ass bluff and letting him know how I don’t think he’s funny, because he hasn’t clued in to my unenthusiastic silence.