… you, Guillaume and Ahmed have made plans to meet for a drink along the canal at 7:30 and you end up working late and it’s 9 o’clock and raining when you leave your desk so you text Ahmed “Still by the canal?” and Ahmed texts back “Waiting for you,” and when you arrive there they are, the two of them, under the bridge, sitting like the best friends that they are—that the three of you are—and they look so happy and young and natural that as much as you want to call out to them to let them know you’ve arrived you also want to watch them from a distance, you want to watch their camaraderie, their companionship, their fellowship, knowing that what they share you share too, because you feel like a man coming home from a long day at the office and spying his children through the picture window, the two of them at play in the living room, and, like that man, you are paused by this vision of beauty that you’ve helped create, this wonderful life, and just as that man knows that each child is special in his own way, you know that Guillaume will always drink from a cup or a glass and Ahmed from a bottle, and you nearly laugh out loud at the thought of how well you know them, how true they are to themselves, and like that man you want to keep your friends safe and help them always be happy though they can’t always be, that’s how you feel watching Guillaume and Ahmed under the bridge, as they watch the drizzle on Canal Saint Martin, until you hear Guillaume say to Ahmed, “Give him a call and see where he is,” and then your phone buzzes in your pocket but you don’t take it out, you don’t say anything, you just watch the beauty of the scene that they want you to be a part of though they don’t know that you already are, and finally your desire to be one with them bursts through your pleasure at watching them wait for you, so you lean over the rail and call out, “I’m home,” at which they turn and offer you as a welcoming gift the most inviting smiles imaginable and eyes full of heart and cheer and companionship and unspoken love, and Guillaume says, “Hey, asshole, it’s about fucking time. We saved you a beer.”
© 2019, Gary Lee Kraut, All rights reserved.