“Rise and Shine – Sunshine.”

 

“Opening my eyes – I look into some of the bluest – eyes – I’ve ever seen, and a smiling face I’ve known for over forty years.”

 

“Leo,” I say, as I slowly come awake and roll out of bed.  Pup is –surprisingly - already up and gone, probably into Wal-Mart with Colo; they were talking last night about needing groceries.

 

We are parked in the middle of a Wal-Mart parking lot, but that is about all I know in relation to ‘where we might be,’ other than the great state of Texas.  Since I was not a ‘driver’ yesterday, I spent most of it on my laptop, and was quite ‘hazy’ by the time Leo decided to park for the night, hence my lack of bearings this morning. 

 

Oh yeah, we’re in mine and Pup’s   - ‘new,’ (new to us anyway) - used motor home, a 40’ Winnebago Journey, a 2003 model, which cost us a couple of legs, two arms, and several dozen signatures on a whole bunch of paperwork at the bank.

 

The reason we’re in Texas was to pick up Colo two days ago and still, after driving for two days, we’re still in Texas. “How far till we’re out of this state?” I’d asked last night, to Leo who was driving, only to get my answer from Colo who was serving as ‘co-pilot,’ sitting in the right hand front seat.  “A couple of more weeks and we should be past Dallas,” she had hollered back at me over ‘Patsy Cline,’ who was singing on the stereo.

 

“I liked your blog yesterday,” Leo says, as he hands me a cup of coffee, “but, what’s up with the ‘small chill,’ why not a ‘Big Chill,’ like the movie?” He says this with a straight face, of course, but I can see him sneaking a peek at me through the haze of his cigarette smoke.

 

“Didn’t you read Daze’s comment yesterday, the part where you should lighten up with the cigarettes, out of respect to me and Pup, since we’ve quit the nasty things.”

 

“You didn’t think they were so nasty for all those years you smoked them partner,” he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.

 

Before I could respond, he said, “been thinking about giving them up myself.”

 

His statement was so shocking, I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just sat there sipping my coffee trying to imagine a world where Leo didn’t smoke.

 

“The girls, he said, pulling back the curtain of the window, at the table he was sitting at, and motioning toward the store, went to get some bacon and eggs.”

 

“So, your story, Leo says, leaves us all hanging with the thought that something ‘bad’ is about to happen.”

 

“No, not necessarily, I said, maybe Leo’s about to reveal something about himself never before bared, or perhaps Ice, who knows which way it’ll go?”

 

I’d think you’d have some idea, don’t you, Iceman?”

 

The ‘twinkle’ has returned to his eyes, but I refuse to acknowledge it, and instead get up and head to the bathroom, “a shower is what I need this morning,” I say over my shoulder as I’m leaving the bedroom, and Leo.

 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Leo hears Pup and Colo returning from Wal-Mart, and wonders how long it’ll take for someone to rustle up breakfast? 

 

“I’m doing breakfast, Colo says, as she steps into the room, want to help?”

 

“Looking around, as if she’s talking to someone else, Leo doesn’t say anything.

 

“Come on Leo,  you’re the only person in the room. Do you want to help or not?”

 

“Of course, of course, he says, jumping up from the bed; you want me to fry the eggs, or make toast?”

 

Laughing, she says, “Leo, Leo, hmmm, go ahead, make toast, I’ll do the cooking.”

 

But while he’s making toast, Colo’s doing more than cooking, she’s looking, at an old cowboy sticking bread in the toaster.

 

“Leo, can I ask you something,” she says, as she cracks an egg against the skillet.

 

“Sure Colo, ask away.”

 

“Would you tell me about - life?” She says.

 

Looking at her - not looking at him, Leo scratches his three-day beard with the back of a hand, and says, “What do you want to know about it?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, how about - what’s it all about?”

 

 

THE NEW

RESIDENCIA

 

“There's something happening here
What it is ain't exactly clear”

 

Ah, the opening of “For what it’s worth,” blended with Leo’s questioning statement, ‘have you found Joe,’ creates an eerie moment aboard the boat, and it’s Pup who breaks the conversational silence with a question of her own.  “Didn’t Buffalo Springfield do this?”

 

“Yeah,” I say to her, and turning toward Leo I say, “No Leo, I haven’t found Joe.”

 

“Yeah I know Ice, stupid question wasn’t it?”

 

I look at Leo and smile as I shake my head.  I’ve known him for over 40 years but still don’t know him.

 

“You know,” he says, his voice going an octave deeper than usual, “Daze was really struck by my comment to you about your life stealing away.”

 

“Yeah, I guess you read her comment in my comment section,” I said while turning the ignition key of the boat, and starting the engine.

 

“Where we headed?” Pup asks; her face partially lit by the dim light of the moon and stars, that have almost magically appeared in the short time since the sun dropped out of sight. 

 

Leo, leaning back against the cushion on his bench seat, is staring straight up at the night sky in its thousand star splendor, softly singing along with the song on the stereo. 

 

“Everybody look what’s going down

Paranoia strikes deep

Into your life it will creep

It starts when you’re always afraid”

 

“Just out on the water a ways Pup, I say, as I steer the boat in the general direction of the Marina, which is less than a hundred yards or so away, its yellow lights spraying outward onto the dock, and lake around it.

 

“Is it still open?” Leo says, motioning toward the Marina.

 

I figure it is, and I also figure he’s wanting more beer and cigarettes, only to be surprised when he merely gives his head a negative shake, when I ask if he wants to stop.

 

“It must still be 90 degrees out here Pup says, crossing her legs, and unwrapping a stick of gum as she watches Leo, maybe a little enviously, – lighting another cigarette.

 

“Paranoia always starts when you’re afraid,” I say, looking at Leo.

 

“Which,” he says, taking a drag from his cigarette, “is where most of us stay.”

 

“Why is that,” Leo?” Pup says.

 

“Nature of the beast, or life, whatever you prefer to call the existence we’re in,” he says, looking 

up at the night sky, and adding, “wonder where the Milky Way went to, I had it a minute ago.”

 

“Probably not late enough for it,” I said.

 

“No, I saw it,” he insists, twisting in his seat to get a better vantage point for his stargazing.

 

“Which one of those do you come from Leo,” Pup asks, with a serious look on her face.

 

Chuckling, Leo runs a hand thru his hair, and stands up as he answers her, “Literally, none of the above,” which draws a laugh from Pup.

 

“Leo is an earthling, darling,” I say, while at the same time she is excitedly pointing at the sky, saying, “A falling star - guys, see it?”

 

Looking in the direction Pup is pointing, I see the star as it leaves a fiery streak behind its fall, a not so common sight, I think to myself, which is routinely missed by humans, too busy balancing ledger sheets, or other such mundane things.

 

“A falling star for all to see,” Leo is saying, as he leans up - in order to see it.

 

“Not everybody sees it Leo,” I say, drawing from my previous thoughts.

 

“Oh yes, they all see it, maybe only in their ‘minds eye,’ but they see it.” He says.

 

“Why do you seem so familiar to me, Leo?” Pup says, still looking at the sky.

 

“Cause you’ve known me for so long,” he says, continuing, “all of you, Ice, Colo, Daze, Belle, and the others.”

 

A small chill goes up my back with Leo’s words, while a puff of wind buffets my face, and the lights of the Marina fall behind us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Leo, I said, why do you suppose he wrote those words to you?”

 

“I have no idea Ice, I’ve often tried to figure it out, but-”

 

The silence that is always with us moved in then, and for a few long seconds – no one said anything, until, finally, Leo turned toward me  - “didn’t you mow yards back in Elm City?”

 

“Yeah,” I said, thinking about the days when as a teen-ager, before I had a drivers license or a car, I made my spending money with Dads lawn mower. “Fifty cents for a regular yard, front and back, and a buck for a big one like Mrs. Dondaldson’s place.”

 

“Looking at Leo, I leaned toward him, waving my hand slowly in front of his face - as I said, “Leo, Leo, my man, are you for real; are you like the rest of us?”

 

“You know he’s not,” Pup says as she slides a CD into the player, and we await the first offering.

 

As the music begins, Leo says, “CCR, have you ever seen the rain.”

 

“Indeed,” Pup says with a smile.

 

“It doesn’t bother you, does it Leo?”

 

“No Ice, not like it does you, cause all you can see is your life stealing away – but in my case I’m always looking to see what’s coming.”

 

“Yeah, Pup says, but, you’ve been around much longer than us, and you’ll be here long after we’re gone.”

 

“Which, he says slowly - with a faint smile, isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

 

“We’ve had this conversation before Leo, I say, and it all boils down to perspective, and you’ve definitely got a different one than we do.”

 

“Did you read the Captain’s blog the other day,” Pup says as she flips on the boat’s running lights.

 

“A good one I say as I look out over the water, expecting Leo to comment since Morgan’s blog is one of his favorite reads; I’m somewhat surprised that he doesn’t.

 

“What do you think about his ‘take’ on things?”  My question is out there for either of them, but it’s Pup who answers, “I like the Kenny Rogers connection,” she says with a laugh.

 

“I thought it fit him well,” Leo says, shrugging his shoulders, and shaking a cigarette from his pack.

 

“What’s next for you Ice,” he says as he lights his lighter and holds it to the tip of his cigarette, the unstable illumination causing shadows to dance on his face.

 

“I’d like to get to know you,” begins to play on the stereo, and it reminds me of Vietnam for some reason.

 

“Were you scared over there,” Leo says, his husky voice wrapping easily around the words he’d spoken.

 

“At first,” and as I pause, Pup looks away, as if the question bothers her more than me.

 

“But, I continue, it got easier after time; a lot of things got easier.”

 

As I look around, I notice that the darkness has totally immersed us in its inky air, and for some reason I wonder about a question on ‘Wingfire’s blog – ‘where’s the wind?’

 

The boat’s running lights barely illuminate the three of us, and as “For What it's Worth” begins to play, Leo says, “have you found Joe?”

 

 

 

We were on our boat, in the middle of the lake, engine off, not anchored but not drifting either.  Pup and me were sipping on beers, while Leo smoked his ever-present cigarette, an empty beer bottle languishing in his hand. We’d came to fish, but hadn’t bothered to bait our poles, preferring to spend the day drinking beer, grilling steaks, and talking.  It’d been a glorious day, and now, as I watched the sun sliding into its slow descent to the other side, I said, “Leo, tell us about Joe.”

 

Joe was a man that Leo had mentioned a few times in the past, never much, just a comment – like – “Joe always said this – or that.” And when I would ask him to elaborate or expand, he’d always tell me – “another time, another place.”  So as my latest request evaporated into the silence, I said, “it’s another time and another place Leo, tell me about Joe.”

 

“Joe was 77 when I first met him,” Leo said, surprising me a little with his response, “he always joked that he was the 77 in Sunset Strip, which was a popular television show back then.”

Continuing, as his eyes scanned the horizon, Leo said, “he was as black as black could be, his eyes, his hair, black all over.”

 

I started to say something, but decided to remain quiet as I watched Leo lighting his cigarette. 

 

“He was sitting on the porch of Able’s Nursing Home, and I was mowing the grass; back in those days I had to work to eat you know.  I’d mowed the grass there many times, but had never seen him before that day. Sitting in a straight back wood chair, both hands on his knees, I’d caught him staring at me.  So I stared back, but Mrs. Jacobson, the Nursing Home’s Supervisor, interrupted the ‘stare-off’ by waving at me from the driveway, where she was getting out of her car.”

 

“I walked over to where she was, expecting her to have something in the car that needed unloaded, but when I got close to her she said, “That’s Joe up there on the porch,” her voice,high pitched and squeaky, always reminded me of fingernails dragging across a chalk board. “I waited for more, but she was already on her way into the building, leaving me wondering why she’d bothered to tell me that little piece of information.”

 

“So, was the old guy still staring at you?” 

 

We both looked at Pup, her unanswered question echoing in the air, as she pulled a beer from the ice chest, handing it to Leo. 

 

Watching Leo as he took the beer from Pup, I thought of the old black man I’d seen the day before; he too was sitting on the porch of a Nursing Home.  Actually I’d seen him several times before, always sitting there on the porch, waving at me, as I drove by on my way out of town.  I’d just never thought about him much at all, until now.

 

“Yeah,” Leo said as he twisted the cap off his beer, “he was still staring,  - and waving” I said, which caused Pup to look at me, and then back to Leo as he said, “and smiling.”

 

“Handing me a cold beer from the chest, Pup eyed me while she said, “So, Leo, you talked to Joe a lot back then?”

 

“We developed a friendship, yes we did.” Leo said, and added, “the old guy was a walking-talking encyclopedia on baseball, and he loved to talk presidential politics.”

 

When neither Pup nor I said anything, Leo stood up and walked to the back of the boat, flicking his cigarette into the lake, he stood there taking in the sunset.

 

Looking at me, Pup kicked me lightly with her foot and said, “what’s with the ‘waving thing’?

 

She was referring of course, to me saying that Joe had also been ‘waving’ as well as staring at Leo.

 

“Nothing really, him talking about Joe just reminded me of an old man I’ve been noticing the last few days.”

 

“Oh yeah, she said, where have you seen this guy?”

 

“On the front porch of the Rest Home on 2^nd street, as you’re leaving town headed for Morgan City.”

 

“Maybe he’s o’ Joe,” she said, laughing with her eyes, as she peered at me in the vanishing light of the day.

 

Leo turned from where he’d been standing and walked back to where we were, while saying, “you guys bout ready to go?”

 

“How long did you know him?”  This from me, although I felt like I already knew the answer.

 

“Oh just that summer,” Leo said, slightly under his breath, but still loud enough for us to hear.  “Actually, he was still there when I left town that September, but when I returned in the spring and asked about him, I was told that he had just up and disappeared shortly before Thanksgiving.  Nobody had seen him since, nor knew where he might of gone.”

 

“What about his family,” Pup asked.

 

“He had none, at least that anyone knew of.”

 

“Did he leave a note or a message of some sort,” I asked.

 

“Yeah, as a matter of fact he left a note in an envelope addressed to me.”

 

“What did it say?” Pup asked.

 

Leo sat down next to me, and sighed as he said, “Another time, another place.”

 

 

There's sadly, no fricking thinking outside the box

Our future - airbrushed - in concrete, wet (of course)

Tis already hard

Some call it Karma, others - other things, but in the end

It is of no consequence  - what it's called

For the game has remained the same

Since the clock first began to tick

Back in the day of the Mick

Leo wipes his brow and peels an orange

Nothing is so important as we think he says,

& tho we may never know why - nor - how

I'm sure we'll know all we need

The sky, hazy with blowing sand - somewhere

Resembles another day - but which one

Escapes me

 

Rambling Rose, a song cut in the 60's by one

Nat King Cole

Is playing in the background of my thinking mind

As Leo stalks the area for another orange

And Jackson realizes for perhaps the 1st time

That the night of the 'long knives,' may be upon us

And to that end - we all must lay down the sword

 

Back to the box

Been thinking for over a month

That thinking 'inside' the box

Never gets one anywhere

 

Ye must go outside to find the magic potion

Otherwise you're doomed to suck on vanilla

 

There is a 'sense' of things

That tells me - and one and all

Of a future coming

That might dwarf us for good

 

Be careful of long-haired losers

Guard against the world crusading against you

 

It is for Leo that I search

He is the answer to my question