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The Close Shave
by
Mark Lane |
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“That was a close one,” he said to me as I walked into his room.
I looked around for whatever he might have thought was a close one.
“What dad? What was a close one?”
Nothing, no response.
“How was your day today?”
Blink, blink, blink.
“What did you eat for breakfast?”
Sometimes talking about food get’s him conversational.
His eyes gained focus.
“Barbecued ribs.”
“Your favorite.”
I knew that couldn’t have been breakfast.
“Did you have that for dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, real good. They were tiny, like in a magazine.”
“Good though.”
“Yeah, good.”
Now I didn’t know if he had eaten them or saw them in a
magazine and thought that he had eaten them.
“Did you get enough to eat? Are you still hungry?”
“I asked for a salad.”
“Did they get you one?”
“Yeah. The ribs were tiny, like in a magazine. Perfect.”
“Good though.”
“Yeah, good.”
“I’ll make you some this summer, out in the smoker.”
He laughed at that like a kid looking forward to ice cream.
The sun came through the Venetian blinds and striped the room.
Sunlight and darkness.
There was silence for a long time.
His jaw moved.
I knew that he was eating ribs.
“It looks like they shaved you today. You look good.”
“That was a close one,” he said lifting his hand to his face.
I smiled and walked out of his room.
This is where I came in.
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--Submitted by lanet on 2011-04-03.
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George Wentz:
I like it! Accepting the humor and innocence of old age for what it is.
Posted 04/09/2011 05:44 PM
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