My hand slammed down the snooze button at 6:00am. I sighed heavily and rolled over staring at the ceiling fan. At times those swirling blades helped my concentration on whatever problem I might have for the day. Today was a special day to celebrate, overcoming heart break bitterness and anger. My heart was back in my chest where it belongs. But I was warned, being a widower, not to get too attached to anyone too soon. Did I listen? No…but I needed that void in my life filled. And at my age I was still a sucker for a pretty face. Mary had a beautiful face for a sixty-year-old, a flawless wrinkle free complexion, perfect smile with hazel eyes and a killer personality. She was the life of everyone’s party. We spent a lot of time at each other’s houses. She said we were co-habituating and shacking was not in agreement with her religious values. I agreed, but marriage is out, period. Especially since her family did not like me anyway. Mary’s family reeked of envy and jealousy. Silly for people so well off, and they were slobs. She probably told them how particular I am about my house. My cleanliness and not liking a lot of company did not go well with them. I tried to get along and against my better judgment, I invited them over for a cookout.
The meat and the sides were the best in the area. I got compliments on everything. But the evening got spoiled when Mary’s engineering genius cousin, let him tell it, decided to flop down in my father’s Barcelona Chair with the white glove soft leather. He left a hole in it with a Swiss army knife in his back pocket. Who carries that in their back pocket? He did it on purpose. I wanted to kill him! That chair was my dad’s prized possession. He said it was styled by some famous architect back in the 1930’s. They cost a fortune, even today, over a hundred years later. Adding insult to injury, Mary’s sister who had post-surgery constipation went down in the basement washroom and shit a brick. That clogged the toilet and temporarily jammed the injector pump.
“I’m so sorry, Malcolm.”
Being what I thought was being a gracious host. “That’s okay, continue to enjoy yourselves.”
Okay, my ass! I could not shake the feeling; Mary was behind it all since I rejected her slight marriage proposal weeks ago. But when the Evergreen Park Senior Service Security (SSS) drone came to check me out daily I knew it was Mary being spiteful. Thank God, I reconsidered marrying into that family. She knew how I felt about the Triple-S. Their newest tech for wellbeing checks sucked as far as I was concerned. Even though the program was experimental. The thought of being retinol scanned by a floating disc with a smooth caring voice with the power to have your door broken down if your response was suspicious was revolting. I opposed it and let them know about it. But so much for the negative thoughts, time to get on with my day.
Welcome to another good day, Malcolm, my electronic assistant said, that my grandkids set up for me. I hated AI. I did not need to be reminded of this and that.
“Carla?”
Yes, Malcolm.
“Die until 3:00pm, then turn on the Bears game.”
Okay.
I tossed and turned until 8:00am. I had an hour before Vinny’s opened. On average I drank a few shots and beers three times a year on special occasions like a good medical report. Another reason why I’ve lived this long. Should I cut the grass first or wait until later? Since retiring, my schedule was to do all my chores before noon, after that do not bother me. Do the lawn first, no need to edge and I’ll be finished by nine. This will be my final season cutting the grass. The landscaping company that did the neighbors’ were reasonable so I will hire them. The village needed to hire someone to cut my former neighbors’ lawn. What ever happened to the bougie’s of the block? Let them tell it, nobody was more sophisticated than they. When they first moved on the block they wouldn’t even speak. But that faded away and the Bookers got some what friendly. Big Al, I called him, was shorter than me, shaped like a pear, with what I call a rotating accent. One day he sounded like a Brit, the next, like an Indian. His wife had a stone face expression all the two times I saw her. The second time she built a bonfire with his clothes on their driveway. Whatever the reason I did not care, we never liked each other that much. I blew the rest of the grass off the sidewalk and driveway and headed to Vinny’s.
* * *
There was a time when a walk to 95th and Kedzie and beyond was a breeze. But over the past five years I could not do it. My car started right up; it had been sitting for two months. As I drove by the former neighbors, the Bookers, I could not help but wonder where were they now? Since I was out and about this early, I decided to drop off the water bill at village hall. I pulled into the last unoccupied handicapped space closest to the entrance. Unexpectedly, I did not get the usual hostile vibes from the clerks behind the desks. Before it was like walking into a police station, but today they smiled. The place was empty. No wonder. A guy sat on the first bench inside looking through a soiled backpack. I couldn’t believe it. Big Al Booker looked me in the eye and smiled. He needed dental work! His front teeth were oversized anyway, but they were rotting. “Malcolm Overs, is that you?” He extended his hand. “Still slim and trim I see.”
“Yeah, it’s me, Al.” He needed a shave and his breath smelled like alcohol…wine at that. His overalls were dirty; I assumed he was going to work. If I remember correctly, he said he was into construction. “It’s been a while, how are you doing?” What was he doing here?
“Um…I’m okay, but you know, who couldn’t do better.” He picked up his backpack and walked with me out the door. “Which way you headed?”
I thought he might ask for a lift. “Towards Pulaski, you headed that way?” Duh, of course he was.
“Yeah, I’d appreciate it.”
“Get in, but I got to stop at Vinny’s first.”
“Oh, me too.”
I started to ask where was his Lexus, but from his appearance he lost that and everything else. Big bougie Al was on his ass. Why didn’t I feel for him? The Bookers were the type of couple that spoke only half the time. I told my late wife how they did and she shrugged it off. But I will never forget the time I was cutting the grass and he crossed the street to speak. I was shocked. He poured his heart out about a relative that passed. I forget which one. Finally…he left and I told Carol about it. Being a good person, she got him a sympathy card and put a twenty in it. I didn’t agree. I saw him the next day and handed him the card. “Sorry for your loss.” He snatched it out of my hand. I wanted to punch him out! I felt like a fool and I never liked him since. That was a while ago, but still.
When we got in the car, I really smelled alcohol. Why did I say okay? I pulled out of the lot thinking, the sooner I get to the store the better. “I thought you were a white-collar construction worker guy, Al.” I did not mean to be so blunt. If it sounded that way.
He cleared his throat. “Well, you know how it is.”
“No, I don’t, Al, no, I don’t.” But I did. Who doesn’t like to see the high and, want to be, mighty on their ass? Watching him with a loss for words felt good as I waited for an answer.
“Oh, there’s the store, turn in.” He said, pointing in the direction I knew to go, like I didn’t know.
There was a handicapped space open with a cart right there. Lucky me. Al rushed in; I wasn’t far behind. I nodded to the security guard and proceeded down the aisle to the beer cooler. The place was crowded this early in the morning. People probably thought the same as myself, get in and out. It has always amazed me at the number of specialty beers that are available. I tried a couple and got sick. So, I stick to old reliable, a six pack of 8-ounce Miller’s. Al disappeared somewhere toward the front of the store where all the munchies are located and mini bottles of liquor and the like. They needed a better floor plan than this. My cart was always in somebody’s way. My back tightened as I reached down to get to the brand of scotch I liked. Al came behind me blocking my view for a second. I could have sworn he slipped a couple of bottles in his pocket. I blocked any view security might have had. Unintentionally. I hate a thief, especially if it might look like I’m involved. I whispered, “What are you doing? Do not steal around me, I don’t want people thinking I’m with you.”
“Nothing, excuse me, Malcolm.” He headed for a newly opened line.
I got behind him. The cashier looked like she had a rough night, bags under her eyes and a half smirk on her wrinkled face. Someone her age should be retired taking it easy. She gave me, then, Al a funny look. Did she see Al steal or what? Did she think I was with him? Too bad if she did, I wasn’t. Al paid for his chips and drinks. Of course, he had to say, “See you outside.” He rushed out the store. Big bougie Al stealing liquor, who would have thought. I emptied my cart fumbling trying not to drop the miniatures on the bottom of the basket. “Just a second, miss,” I said, with a smile. I counted six, my usual order. You would think I would get a smile, but the lady stared at me with contempt. “Rocks for breakfast?” No response. She scanned my order. “Would you double the bag, please.”
“No…that’s extra. You a club member?” “Extra. No, I’m not.” I looked at my receipt. “You charged me for two extras.” She rolled her eyes. “Did you hear me lady?” She shook her head. “You’ll thank me later, mister.”
“Thank you for what?” I snapped. She made the adjustment and I felt dirty looks bounce off my back from customers behind me. I started out the store. As I walked past the service desk, they gave me a strange look. They could not possibly think I was with Big Al, or could they? The entire place is monitored.
When I got outside there, he was in the car turning up a bottle. Dammit! I forgot to lock the door. I shoved my hand in my jacket pocket to get my keys and felt two miniatures. What the hell! That goddamn thief slipped them in my pocket. They saw him. No wonder she overcharged me. I snatched the car door open. “Get out my car, Al, before I snatch you out!” No sooner than I said that an Evergreen Park PD car pulled up behind blocking my exit. Two female cops got out and gave me that look. Before they said anything the security guard came out of the store. The officers exchanged greetings and stepped to the side. I couldn’t hear what they said, but the shorter officer came over to my car.
“Sir, step out of the car.” Al obeyed. She went through his pockets. “You got a receipt for these little ones?” He said nothing. “You under arrest.” She cuffed him, opened the door an assisted him in.
“Sir, empty your pockets.” The other cop told me. I showed them the bottles.
“For what it’s worth he slipped that shit in my pocket, right Al?” Why I asked him that I don’t know, like he’d admit it. He looked at me and grinned.
“Fuck you, Malcolm, you think you better than me.”
“Wish you were out here!” I stepped toward the squad car and the tall officer stepped in front of me.
“Stand back, sir, or you goin’ too.”
People stared at us leaving the store. It was embarrassing. Trying to be nice; this is what I get.
The cops got in their cruiser and off they went. I flipped Big Al the bird. Good riddance.
The security guard walked over, “I figured you weren’t involved in his shit. We seen him in action and I ignored it, but not this time. Some people got to have it. They saw him…cameras of all shapes and sizes everywhere. “You ain’t like that, but we like to be sure.”
“Okay cool.” We fist bumped. “Can I go back in, I forgot something?”
“Sure.”
I walked over to the grumpy cashier and gave her a thumbs up. She smiled and continued working. This incident will not ruin my day, but I will not be offering anyone a ride anyway soon.
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