hes an old man

now I get that its an inference according to my reasons an all I got to go off is the evidence of what Ive seen  Im old enough to believe what I see
but Im an old man too

he and I are old in different ways

I dont know what made him as old as he is  because hes certainly not older than me

hes decrepit he sits every morning till noonish lunch I suppose then I dont see him again until the next morning just inside the open maw of their side-by-side-by-side yes three car garage sitting in a classic greenstriped lawn chair

he smokes cigarettes

he taps the ash from them into a large flatglass ashtray that sits on a small white aluminum lawn table

beside the ashtray are papers newspapers  Or magazines

theyre utterly relaxed  flat  compressed by the weight of the sky dirty looks from the sun the longing curious look of the moon

they might as well be sculpted

theyve been unmoved from the tabletop since the family moved in months ago

just beyond him on the apron in front of the bay he sits inside is his faded blue 80s Chevy pickup which also hasnt moved since it was parked

two recent sedans occupy the other two bays

as he smokes he looks over the rest of the neighbourhood to the north that descends the hill it is erected on

despite my neighbours elevation where he sits hes easily twentyfive thirty feet below me

I see him over a six foot fence edging his property

I recognise his look   his watching

I saw it in an elderly friend of mine when I was a boy

his wife took the newspapers from me on the front steps of their house my morning delivery and she walked them around the side of the house through the empty side lot they also owned to the rear to a flagstone patio he built when they first moved in as a young couple

he sat in a similar lawn chair looking out onto Prairie  watching

Id wave as I walked past

sometimes he acknowledged me  and sometimes he waved me along hurried me to get out of the way I was obstructing his line of sight

he sat in front of a tall stone wall that he also made

its stones werent consistent with where we lived

behind the stone wall were woods  old woods

you couldnt get around behind him without giving yourself away

earlier hed been more inviting

I had cold lemonade with him a few times at his invite after cutting the lawn on his empty lot with a push mower 

he talked about working hard as a boy in fields in the South his daddy a sharecropper

I didnt know what a sharecropper was and he didnt say

he said physical labor was honest

those who wouldnt work outdoors werent

Youll see  They think your hands are for them to directTheyll think they can tell you what to do   And a lot of people listen to them

I remember that

I remember too that the lemonade was the best lemonade I ever had 

My wife wont tell me her secret  I think she thinks if she does Ill get rid of her  Shes hedgin her betwhich is ridiculous  Shes the best damn cook and baker Ive ever met 

the old man looked at him wide-eyed An ifn you were older Id share what else she was the best damn thing at 

he laughed and slapped his knee at his joke

I forgot to ask what a sharecropper was

going into the second year of sitting taking his morning paper in the backyard his wife carrying them back to him going to get him fresh coffee or fruit or whatever he might like I asked her what the Mister was doing because it looked to me like he was watching for something
I asked if I could help

she smiled weakly
Yes  What you can do is never do what hes doing Not ever  Not when youre an old man  Not ever

Whas he doin

Oh youre so young 

Please  whas he doin

she clasped her hands together over her breasts

He watching for DeathHes waiting for Death     

I cant shake him off it

a tear escaped the corner of her eye

He said he saw somethingdreamed somethingI dont remember now I was halflistening as sometimes folks do when theyve shared a life shared the same conversation a hundred times before and your horizon to some seems to grow small or further away as you grow older

And when I ask him now he says he wont say  He said                                                                           

He said isnt comforting 

He isnt comforting as he once was

Im probably not either

But Im not watchingIll never watch  

I wont

so now all these years later Im looking over at a man whose looking like a man I knew as a boy

he didnt make it out of that second year of watching

he did not

I wonder what his wife put special into her lemonade

1225,  Saturday,  20  8. 16