I don't sit still for much. Quick bath. Quick trip to the feeder for some sugar. I just can't keep still. The one person I can sit still for is Art. He sits on the same bench at the same time every single day that it's not raining and has coffee and a muffin. He talks out loud to no one. I'm here listening. Hiding in the thick of this Azalea shrub. Listening to everything.
For 45 years he has lived in this neighborhood. He used to have an act. He was a better dancer than a singer but was good enough to keep the show going for 30 years. He made most of his earnings betting at the race track. He knew when to stop for the day. That was the key to all his winnings, knowing when to walk away. The first year he started with the horses he was 22 years old and made 22,000 dollars. He never leaves the city. Why would he? Everything he needs is right here on the Upper East Side.
Today he told no one except me listening from the bushes to stop eating romaine lettuce and use more hand sanitizer. On your hands, not the lettuce. Just throw the lettuce away.
He's getting up. Slowly. Reaching for his cane. Buttoning his coat. It 10:45 and it will take him 15 minutes to walk the few steps back to his apartment. He needs to be home at 11:00 for The Price is Right. Game on. Until tomorrow Art, game on.
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