Coats for the Cold…

I am walking down 4th avenue on my way to the shopping center. I noticed a black man in a newer model car stopping to take pictures of each and every house as he slowly inches up my street. The whole deal makes me wary.

“Can I help you?” I say as my curiosity overcomes my inhibitions.

“I work for a real estate company and we are assessing property values in the area,” He tells me. “Sorry if I alarmed you.”
Rosa left me sitting in front of my computer as she headed back down to the shopping center. The more I get to know Rosa, the more I like her. She doesn’t put on airs. What you see is what you get. I am lucky for her to have entered my life. I’ve never had a lot of good friends and I now count her as one.
Satisfied, I continue on with my walk to the shopping center. My main intent for walking down there today was to find George. I am still kind of perturbed about the whole incident of him telling everyone about my mental illness. I want to confront him.

I arrive at the shopping center and it is bustling with activity. Throngs of cars fill the parking lot as people are doing their Sunday afternoon shopping. I sit down on a bench to wait awhile to see who shows up. I reach into my backpack to pull out a bottle of Gatorade and my cigarettes in anticipation of a long wait. Far off, in downtown, a train horn wails in the distance warning motorists to steer clear of the tracks. It evokes memories of my many travels and hikes down those tracks.

I was in a surly mood, but my spirits were immediately lifted when I saw Rosa walking slowly down from the grocery store. In her hand was a plastic sack of what I presumed to be lunch.

“Hey gorgeous,” She said as she walked up and sat down next to me upon the bench.

“Have you seen George?” I asked.

“I haven’t seen that crazy guy in days.”

“I wonder if he is back in jail,” I replied.

“I would have read it in the paper,” Rosa says. “I don’t think he is in jail.”

I watched as Rosa pulled out a loaf of bread, a small bottle of miracle whip, and a package of sliced ham to begin making some sandwiches.

“Do you want one?” She asks.

“I just ate some hamburgers before walking down here,” I replied. “I am full. Thanks though.”

I noticed Rosa’s coat as we sat. It is on its last leg and it tattered and torn.

“Walk home with me after you finish eating,” I told her. “I have a coat I haven’t used in years that you will just love. It is a Timberland and still looks brand new. It might be a bit big though.”

Rosa finished her sandwiches and we walked the short ten minutes up 4th avenue to my house.

“This house is gorgeous,” She said as we stepped inside.

“It’s not mine,” I replied. “My friend Charlie bought it. I will have to show you my new house.”

I walked into my closet and brought out that coat.

“It needs to be dry cleaned,” I said. “It has been in the closet for years and is kind of musty.”

Rosa tried it on and showed it off to me.

“What do you think?” She asked with a big smile on her face.

“I think you look just dapper,” I replied.

“Now that I know where you live, do you think I can walk up here and hang out with you some days?”

“You would be welcome anytime,” I reply.

Rosa left me sitting in front of my computer as she headed back down to the shopping center. The more I get to know Rosa, the more I like her. She doesn’t put on airs. What you see is what you get. I am lucky for her to have entered my life. I’ve never had a lot of good friends and I now count her as one.