A Pair to Draw To

A Pair To Draw To

“Hey! You could have killed me. Were you trying to kill me? Some kind of Fraternity initiation going on up there?”

It’s not every day a bowling ball falls from the fourth floor of an apartment building and lands a few feet from where you are walking. Sometimes when I’m out, I get…not so much lost as confused. If I ignore my impulse to call 911, it usually clears up on its own.

I looked up to see this guy sitting on the fire escape landing. He’s wearing one of those sleeveless T shirts and boxer shorts that look like they were made out of a table cloth from a Scottish Restaurant. There aren’t many Scottish restaurants around, so I suspect it was difficult getting a hold of one.

“Wait, wait, I’ll be right down.”

I watched as he cautiously stepped from the landing onto a ladder attached to the brick façade of the building and descends slowly, as though he decided shortly after the first step it might have been prudent to take the elevator. But it was too late for that. Some people once they commit to something they’ll continue making fools of themselves rather that admit they made a poor choice, he apparently was one of those people. 

He gained confidence as he descended; even smiling down on me. When he got to the landing on the second floor he froze. It hadn’t occurred to him that the ladder rested 8 feet or so above the sidewalk. He stood for the longest time looking at me, I imagined hoping I’d leave and he could return to his apartment. One of those no harm, no foul moments. 

“You have got to step onto the ladder. Your weight will cause the ladder to move downward.” I think he heard me, but I couldn’t be sure. The couple who I could only assume were deaf, because they played their music so loud that sometimes my windows would rattle, and I live a block away. Of course, it could be the elevated train causing the rattling.  I watched as he braved the possibility that the ladder would buck him off and he’d end up next to his bowling ball, which was within a foot of where I stood and looking no worse for wear.

I watched as the ladder slowly descended until it touched the walk. He jumped off and the ladder retreated to the safety of its, meant to be place. The guy kept smiling, or at least it looked like a smile, but then he could have been the victim of fear; I’ve seen it turn big men into Jell-o. 

“I’m so sorry.” Kind of whinny apology but I guess he was at least trying to make amends.  

 “I’m glad you are not injured; you aren’t are you? No? I didn’t think so or you’d be lying on the walk and I’d be attempting to get my ball back up to my apartment before anyone saw what happened. You’d probably be dead, so you wouldn’t say anything.

 I don’t have any insurance, and being that I’ve been warned previously about polishing my bowling ball on the balcony, I’m thinking I’d be found guilty. I’d probably go to jail for a long time, that’s why I was thinking that if you were dead, I’d pretend I had nothing to do with your unexplained accident. You can understand my predicament I’m sure.”

“That bowling ball of yours is about 12 pounds or so? It could be considered a lethal weapon. You are lucky that it missed me. You don’t look that old but you will be by the time you got out of prison, unless you get the death penalty. But none of that occurred and I’m in one healthy place, and you, well you learned how to navigate the fire escape.”

This guy looked really familiar. “Do I know you or you know me? When I knew you, if I know you, it was a while back, you would have been much younger but then so was I. I can’t quite place where I know you from but I know we’ve met before.”

I’m terrible with names but always remember a face; sometimes it complicates things.

“You didn’t happen to go to Saint Lucy’s by chance?”

“I don’t think it was by chance. My parents went to church at Saint Lucy’s and when I got old enough for school it seemed reasonable I’d go to school there. What made you think I went there by accident?”

“I didn’t mean nothing by it… so you did go to school there?”

“Maybe! Why is it so important? I don’t tell just anybody, everything.”

“It’s just that I pride myself on remembering people. Their faces mostly. You got the kind of face you can’t hardly forget.”

“Are you saying I ain’t much to look at?”

“No, I’m saying you have the kind of face that is hard to forget unless you’ve got a good reason to. You don’t remember me? People say I got a face you can’t forget, but for different reasons than you got I would expect. I had a disease that caused my hair to fall out and it never did grow back. Lucky for me the hair tides changed and now being bald is the new look. I never cared much for it myself, but then I didn’t have a choice.”

“I see what you are saying. And I’m starting to remember you. You had a motorcycle, an old Indian that leaked oil like it was bleeding out. You took me for a ride once. I was the only one who was willing to give it a try. I have to admit I was sorry afterwards. We could have been killed if anything had gone wrong. I mean a 100 miles an hour? The skin on my face was so taught from the wind pulling at it I could hardly see, and I was behind you. I was never so glad as when you pulled off the highway to check the oil. 

I remember walking home. I made up an excuse, sorry, like I had liver failure of something like that, so I wouldn’t have to ride that thing again. You took it pretty good, although you did have a failing liver that I didn’t know about till much later. You know, if it wasn’t for you I probably would have been drafted.”

“I don’t see how I had anything to do with that.”

“My eyes were so messed up from you speeding, that the next day when I went for my physical I kept running into things. When I took the eye test I failed so badly they wouldn’t let me walk home alone. They told me I should apply for disability and then they pushed me out the door. They were looking for cannon fodder and when I couldn’t even make it onto that market, I guess they gave up on me; not a word from them since.”

“I’ve still got the motorcycle in case you have to get out of something you don’t really want to do. It ain’t run in a while, but I know I could fire it up and we could go for a Sunday ride and you’d be right back in school with memories of when we were young.”

“I don’t know about that. I didn’t like school much. As a matter of fact I hated it. It wasn’t the learning so much as the having to unlearn things. When you grow up fending for yourself like I did, you don’t need to be told every minute what you is supposed to be doing or thinking. I know what I’m supposed to do, and I just do it. I also know what not to do. So I hope you ain’t offended, but I ain’t getting on that motorcycle ever. If I was wanting to kill myself, I’m sure I could think up a better less dangerous way.”

“You ever get married? I mean with your hair gone and all, it must have been hard on you getting on with the ladies? It is a good thing for you that lack of hair thing came along. I’m supposing that made things a lot better for you… Did it?”

“No, not really. It wasn’t just the hair holding me back from being homecoming queen or king.  My head, the shape of it, and what people calls divots, like at the golf course, had more to do with it than my hair. My head makes people uncomfortable, and especially the ladies. They like rubbing it an all, like a genies lamp, but when they come to one of the divots, they don’t know what to do. You know, some people never do learn to take the bad with the good.”

“You ever try thinking about a wig? I hear they’ve come down in price and I know of a place near downtown, where if you bring in your own hair they’ll fix you up right quick; next day some say. I’d think I would feel more comfortable knowing where my hair came from than just assuming. You know, it’s how those heart transplants make the victim into something they aren’t, heroes instead of grateful.   I can see how something that ain’t yours when it becomes yours, takes some of the old them and gives it to the new you. You become kind of like a mix of people, and then you realize you are the third one, and the other two are looking at you like it’s your fault.”

“You ever think about what they are going to do with us when we can’t look after ourselves anymore?”

“No, can’t say that I have. I’m already running on fumes, my expiration date was several years back. Every day that I wake up is either a blessing or a curse, depending how the day goes. I think what I minded the most is the way the younger people look at you.  They feel sorry for you but don’t know why. They don’t realize that what they are looking at is themselves a few years down the road. 

You ever think about getting old before you were? I know I didn’t. I think it has a lot to do with how you think about things. When you start feeling old and you begin to believe it, it’s pretty much over. I find that if I pretend to be someone else and leave the old guy behind, I don’t get so bothered about being older. Other than the fact you can’t pick stuff off the floor anymore or see every flight of stairs as a challenge; life is about the same, just slower. Do you feel your age?”

“To tell the truth I can’t feel much of anything anymore. They say it’s arthritis but I ain’t so sure, I think it’s just a lifetime of mistakes settling in places you made for them. I used to be good with a hammer and could saw a straight line, but now I can’t saw a nail or pound you a straight line if your life depended on it. But other than that, things ain’t changed much. I still wear shoes when I can find them. I do laundry when I think about doing it, and when I remember to eat, I eat pretty well.

You look like you ain’t been eating too steady. I can usually tell by the bags under someone’s eyes or if they been using lard on their hair to get that shiny new car look. You use any lard? They say it’s not good for your arteries but I can’t see how that has anything to do with my car shining like a full moon. I don’t go out much at night any longer, not enough people on the streets to make it interesting.”

“You know, we got a lot in common. I believe the older you get the more people begin to be more like each other, except for religion and politics, I think everyone should leave that stuff alone. I guess it’s cause the pretty in all of us, kind of homogenizes into shrinking or growing. I think it’s the shrinking that causes the growing, but then that’s just my theory. Noses and ears get bigger and everything else either disappears or looks bigger because of it. That, and hair loss don’t help. But then you’re used to that I imagine, having been baldish your whole life practically.

It might be good to get it over all at once, rather than having to watch it fall out a hair at a time, although it does give you something to do on rainy days. I tried counting my hairs one day.  I got to a hundred and then the phone rang. Some guy wanting me to pay less for driving less. Told him I didn’t drive no more and he said it didn’t matter, the price was still the same. I know it’s hard to pass up a good deal, but I told him I didn’t want to start driving again just to get a deal. It think he thought I was getting snobbish and hung up. Then I forgot to go back and start counting again, so I guess I’ll never know how much hair I got. 

So you been dragged to nursing homes yet? There are some that I liked but can’t afford, and some I didn’t like but I could afford. Seems like paying someone to keep you alive, when the places are there to make it easier for you to die; something ain’t right about that. I’m thinking it’s a waste of someone’s money besides. You know if I had all the money I wasted in my life, I’d still be considered poor cause of inflation. My mind has never kept up with my pocketbook and for a good reason. If you think about it, the economy is always disadvantaging you.

If you had a hundred dollars 25 years ago, it would be worth about a dollar today. So by putting your money in the bank you are actually losing money. If you are saving for a rainy day, by the time you go to buy the umbrella you’ll find out you ain’t saved enough. Then you realize all you can afford to do is get wet. I guess it all works out.”

“You know, we think a lot alike, except I don’t drop bowling balls on people. But then if you can learn to do that, you can learn to not do that; basic physics.”

“I’m pretty good at not leaning stuff. It’s my neighbor’s cat who’s the one causing me most of the aggravation. It was actually him that rolled the ball off the balcony and nearly killed you. I’ve watched him do it from the window when he didn’t think I was watching. He’s a sneaky devil for a cat. I think he enjoys the screams that accompany the ball hitting the concrete. It’s kind of a thunk, but with a vibrations that gives it that little extra something; like twisting the knife for good measure.”

“You know that ball falling from the sky like that might be a sign. I believe there is always somebody waiting to tell you something, even if you don’t want to hear it. Some signs are subtle, this one wasn’t… I’ve got to get going, it’s my first anniversary of not being hit by a bowling ball. Keep an eye on the cat. They got nine lives you know.”

“Some people got all the luck, and they don’t even know it.”

“You ever think that that ball they drop on New Years is some kind of sign and people just ain’t getting it?”