AN OLDER FELLOW story

Ryan sat on the bench by the flower display, watching a collage of feet pass by; silver and green skirts low on thighs; his faded jeans matching the Mall’s floor pattern, his shirt competing with several colorful retail walls; customers rushing from one outlet to another, seeking bargains they may not be able to afford.

Not long ago, he too raced along this same corridor, caught up in a wind of commercialism, his wallet bulging, sandals slapping, armed with a blond, a smart one at that. Later, laughter and steaks at Stanfield House, then after that…

But any memory in life can easily be pushed away by the reality of this moment, a “Geezer” as young mouths call him, lonely in his vigil, eyes squinting, hemorrhoids acting up again. Finally, Fred, his lifelong friend came shuffling in his direction, armed with a cane, one pudgy hand energized by a snappy wave.

Their firm grips cemented an old friendship. “Cool” is what the younger crowd would have expressed this moment. But Ryan really wasn’t. Sweat poured from him, an excess tire of fat decorating his waist.

--‘lo, said Fred.

--Hi back, answered Ryan. They were comfortable in their usual meeting spot, front of the Dollar Store. There remained firmness in his white-haired friend’s voice; a clarity of definition and purpose.

--Seen Gummy? Fred asked.

--Nah. Brought the chess game, though. My turn to win was followed by a belching laugh from Fred. Not that Ryan was that good a hand with a Queen. Give him two Bishops though, and he could rip any opponent’s army apart.

Both men sat quietly, watching customers hip-hop from store to store seeking bargains. Soon the Mall would close, and two men, full of aged memories began to think of heading towards Fred’s house for a game of chess and a little TV. But first, a little chit-chat…

—Didja hear about Marlene’s kid? Got caught lifting a pack of smokes, imagine.

--I remember the time you snatched a chocolate bar. I was the one who finched. Couldn’t expect my parents to think I did it.

--Yah, it was a bummer. Almost lost our friendship over it. You were right though. It was a sneaky thing to do. That grocer fellow was always nice to us. Gave us a job once in while carrying empty cases of beer to the back shed.

--Then you left it unlocked and someone hoofed all the empties.

--Yah. Yah. Blame it on me.

--Well, you did too. And Ryan’s blood pressure began to rise in the excitement of their conversation.

--Got to get up and exercise my arthritis, can’t sit still too long. Leg acts up, kinda. And he got up, scratched his tummy, and farted quietly, if there is such a thing, then yawned and belched.

--Fred? Remember the time we went dipping you know, skinny?

--Yah. We must have been all of ten at the time. I remember the moon shining in my eyes, and slipping on the rock. Took a chunk out of me. There was more blood on my arm, than a vampire’s kiss.

--I remember, then all us kids had to hightail it back home from the lake. Took a while since no one had a car. Had to hitch a ride, left your red juice on the leather seat. Boy that fellow was some upset.

--Yah.

--We been friends a long time, Fred.

--Yep. You’re okay, too.

The mall customers were growing shorter in number, and a few businesses had finished counting their cash, an early close out, then barred doors began closing.

--Quick. Grab a Loto ticket. Who knows, could be our turn. You know, our trip around the world.

--Dream on, tutti-fruity, said Fred.

--Come on. Best we could do in our shape is belly up to the counter at the food court. Hungry?

--There’s still time. You get the ticket and I’ll pick up a mess of fries and a burger apiece. My treat.

--Meet you at the front door in ten. And Fred began to fumble with his shirt-tail, fingers tripping all over each other.

--Let’s stop rattling and get going, admonished Ryan anxious to be off.

Then two older gentleman, one in faded jeans, the other sporting the latest fashion from Harry’s Clothing Depot shuffled off to their agreed-to destinations.

There was still time to get to Ryan’s place, gulp a couple of coffees and play one good game of chess. Before long the Mall was darkened and two pair of legs escaped through the heavy doors.

Tomorrow another of life’s scenes would repeat itself. Might be these two older gentlemen…then maybe not.

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© 2009 Richard L. Provencher
All Rights Reserved