The heat came back this morning. It’s suffocating. I went walking today with the girls, and even laughter felt like a chore. The laughter with them is usually so natural. It comes in floods, and like fireworks erupting it cascades loudly above us, sways and settles around us, eventually falling beneath us and silently disappearing. Today every inhale, every rise, every fall, every exhale was laboured. It made me tired.
Night fell quickly this evening, and looking up I don't see any stars. The sky is so dark that I wonder if it could absorb me.
"Do you have a light?" I ask Old Joe.
I used to be scared shitless of Old Joe. He has the gruffness of a man who has lived his life alone, unconcerned with pleasantries. When I was a kid he used to tell my brother John and I that he was an astronaut. We believed him until I was about eight because of the NASA badge sewn to the hat he's worn everyday for as long as I can remember. I've spent a lot of time with him this summer. We always seem to find each other outside the bar, looking for a cigarette or an escape. Without a doubt, he's my favourite.
He raises his hand, with a gentleness that he saves for when he and I are alone, and lights my cigarette.
"What d-do you want to drink Miss Grace?"
"I'm taking tonight off, Joe. I'm fine but thanks."
"I used to take nights off, too."
His eyes are a piercing blue and they're framed by wild white eyebrows. No matter how much he's drank or how slurred his speech is, there is always a frightening clarity in his gaze. I think that's what scared me when I was young. When he looks into my eyes he can see too much.
"What'd you do today Joe?"
He clears his throat and rises to put out his smoke. He sways more than usual today. I rise quickly.
"Sit down girl, I'm fine. I don't need no help." I've embarrassed him and I sit back down quicker than I got up. "I came here 'round two this afternoon, so that's what I did today."
"Did I miss anything?" I laugh.
"Days are changeless at this place my girl. Nothing happens. Nothing missed. What'd you d-do?"
"I saw the girls. We went walking."
"Hot day for walking."
"You're telling me, Joe."
"Ta-take a look at Barbara in there."
Barbara is dancing next to Daniel, who I went to high school with. She moves with a sexuality that is only becoming to a woman much younger than she is.
I laugh hard, and he wheezes and laughs also, pleased. Even though the sun is hiding the laughter is still exhausting, still laboured.
"So wh-what'd you do today Gracey?"
"I just told you Joe."
He looks at me still with clear eyes, but confusion shrouds his blue irises.
"N-no you didn't. What'd you do today Gracey?"
"I went walking with the girls. It was hot."
"A hot day for a walk."
"Yeah, you're telling me, Joe."
I look at my feet, it's not my place to correct him.
"You doing anything fun with yo-yourself this weekend here Miss?"
"My parents are going away, so probably just stick around and enjoy the time at the house alone."
"That's sounds real nice."
"Yeah."
He gets up again, I'm not sure what for. This time he does fall over. I get down next to him and give him my hand.
"Joe are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah girl I'm fine...I-I-I don't know how that happened there, just lost my feet under me."
He finds his feet again and steadies himself slowly. He is graceful, even in the most graceless situations.
"Did you hurt yourself?"
"Nah, nah. Don't worry about me Melinda."
"No Joe, I'm Grace. I'm not Melinda"
He looks at me, and after a few seconds of silent searching, he looks genuinely surprised to find out that I am Grace, and not Melinda.
"Grace! Grace. I-I-don't know why I said Melinda. I get mixed up some days, forgive me."
If he's bringing her up, it's time for him to go home.
"Joe, do you think you want me to walk you home maybe?"
"No! N-n-no! I don't want to go home, Gracey. I'm fine. I got my wits about me I am just getting on and when people get on th-they f-forget things."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
"You just remind me a'her is s'all. She was your age last time I seen her. They're all so pretty when they're your age."
From what I have been able to piece together Melinda was Joe's daughter. I don't know what happened to her, I just know she's not here anymore.
"I bet she was beautiful."
"She was beautiful, just like y-you're beautiful."
"That's really nice of you to say, Joe."
"It's n-not nice, it's true, girl."
The fluorescent light from inside is so bright that it spills out of the bar. It throws a soft light out front, where Joe and I are sitting. In this moment, I can see all the lines around his eyes, all the life he's lived.
A peculiar stillness finds us, and it transforms his face. I don't recognize him anymore. He looks away from me and there's a long moment before he finds words.
"Th-they say people don't recover from things like that. Th-that ain't all true, you recover in some ways, you keep on recoverin'. You just don't ever get fixed. I'm n-not ever gonna get fixed."
He takes a swig of his beer.
"I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry that...I just, I don't know...I don't know how you still put one foot in front of another after something like that."
"What-what choice do I got Grace? No choice."
My voice and my face behave, or will themselves to behave like this a normal conversation.
"I'm still sorry."
"Yeah, well. You can't wrap your arms around a memory. So I don't try."
The sight of Joe's face, the grief and the sadness etched in it, hurts to look at. I put my hand on his shoulder, and I look away.
There are no words.
In the silence that sits between us, with my hand glued to his big shoulder, it all becomes suddenly real.
I think I should go home.
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