I was late by twenty-five minutes. If tomorrow I get a speeding ticket for going thirty-seven in a thirty-five I will accept it, say thank you and promptly pay it. I will understand it is my penitential offering for what I did between Pachuta and Bay St. Louis.
Last week was going to be slow and it was until that morning which all started the previous evening. I don't know what type of disabled you want to call this. It's not that I don't care, it's not that I can't add and it's not anything other than my brother Josh.
Well, it's Madalyn, Priscilla and Mom too. It's all four of them but Josh mainly.
Josh and I sat on the back porch, drank whiskey, smoked cigarettes and talked shit. None of these things are great things to do (really we should have been planting a garden or something) but it's what me and Josh do together. If I moved home I'm thinking a couple of people would be in charge of keeping us apart, like telling us we would only get one night a month which is good 'cause geez man, we'd be dead fast if we spent too much time together. Come to think of it, if you put Daddy, Jason, Josh and me on the back porch once a month then well, that'd be a great evening.
Anyway, for that reason me being late was Josh's fault but mine mostly. I think the last thing I heard him say was, Hey! Why are you snoring while sitting up?
To which I replied, No I'm not. Why are you still here?
That had to be midnight or one a m or two a m or hell if I know. Everyone else had already gone to bed. I had told Mom to make sure and wake me up between eight a m and eight thirty a m 'cause I was going to get to Bay St. Louis an hour early so I could have everything ready. Audio recorder, camera, book. I had bought this that day, looked at it that afternoon, thought about the things I wanted to ask. Still I knew I wanted him to tell me more than I could ever think to question.
All I knew before then was there was this boat so when Dad had asked me why in the hell I was going down to the Mississippi Gulf Coast I responded with, I'm going to see a man about a boat. He laughed and I did too 'cause that's about the most absurd and fun thing you can do (if you're me).
I didn't sleep well, had a headache and Mom woke me up at exactly eight fifteen because that is exactly between eight and eight thirty. I thanked her, took a quick bath, threw on comfy cloths and hiking shoes, said I love you and walked out the door. It wasn't until Pachuta that I realized it would take me two hours and forty-six minutes rather than the two hours I had assumed the previous day.
I was late. I had to scrape off forty-six minutes but only succeeded in twenty-one.
He was there waiting on me, sitting on the front patio of a snazzy little restaurant facing the water.
I am grateful for those people who wait and then shake your hand when they meet you.
More to come.