“You may be wondering what I’m doing here with a blowtorch
and a spoon,” I remarked to the man who approached me.
He had “Willy” embroidered on his work shirt. “Did you knock
on that door there?” he asked, pointing to the house where I was facing as I
sat sideways in the passenger seat of my car, munching on a sandwich. The
blowtorch and spoon were on the grass in front of me.
“No, wasn’t me,” I replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Someone knocked on her door a little while ago. By the time
she got to the door, no one was there,” he answered. He looked at me
suspiciously. I tried to chew as nonchalantly as possible as he continued. “I
like to check on her from time to time when I drive by here.”
“I’m just here to fix the benches,” I explained.
He looked at me like that didn’t make any sense to him.
“We installed some benches along the community walking
path,” I elaborated, pointing in the direction of the path behind the houses.
“Some got nicked up during shipping. I’m here to patch ‘em.” I suppose I could
have explained that the neighborhood HOA contracted with my company for our
services, but I was really interested in shoveling food in my mouth so that I
could finish my work before it rained. Already the sky was darkening. I
alternated stuffing potato chips in my mouth with one hand, and pouring water
in with the other.
“All right now,” said Willy. “You have a good one.” He
walked off, around the back of my car and out of my sight line as he went to
his work truck
“You too,” I said, with a mouthful of slushy potato chips
“What’s that?” he asked, popping back into view a little too
quickly.
“I said,” swallowing, “’You too.’” He stood there. I thought
our exchange was completed, but evidently not. I groped for a good
conversation-ender. “Can’t be too careful.” That wasn’t it.
“Whatcha mean?” he asked, squinting
“I mean, it’s good to check on each other,” I countered.
“Seems like a good neighborhood.”
“Yep, well, we do what we can. If you see anyone, you know…
let someone know.” He gave a half wave and walked back to his car again. I
dared not answer. Apparently he wanted me to report myself to someone, if I
caught his drift correctly
I popped the last of my sandwich in my mouth and followed it
with as many potato chips as would fit (it was a really good BBQ chip). Wiping
my hands on my shirt, I stood, closed the car door, and scooped up my spoon and
blowtorch. I looked up at the darkening clouds, then trotted between two
narrowly placed houses toward the walking path.
