I would never do this, of course, and it’s important for you to understand that. I could never act on such an impulse, heavens no, but these are my thoughts and they can’t always be controlled because I am not perfect, as mentioned before. I am just not perfect. All I know is that occasionally now, more than once in a while, I’m overtaken by an image or flash from the above scenario and I’ll completely lose track of time—find myself down by the old band shell or God knows where, nearly two in the afternoon. Drifting. Just drifting.

Am I concerned about this behavior? Frightened, even? Yes, I am, yes. Obviously so. But in my defense I must say this: When I do have one of those “moments,” I mean an all-out episode like I’ve been having of late, I always return to my work with the snap and vigor of a man reborn.

Maraschino

It was good to see him again. Really, it was. He hadn’t actually changed a lot; I mean, not that much. A little, I guess, but I spotted him immediately. Almost, anyway. Just a couple minutes after he walked in. He did have some sort of exotic-type drink in his hands, a “Typhoon Betty” or something, so I suppose he must’ve been inside long enough to buy that, but I caught his eye a second later. He was nibbling on the cherry—I forget the name of those, what is it?—you know, the one from his glass, when we looked at each other. Anyway, we had one of those, like, “things” across the room. We did, honestly. The kind from a TV movie or something. He saw me. I’d already seen him, as I said. And we just stared at each other, must’ve been around four minutes at least. Music blaring. People up and moving around the place—you know what the lounge in a Holiday Inn can be like on a Wednesday—but we didn’t feel any of it. I didn’t, anyhow. It was suddenly just him and me. I was only in town for a day and a half, flying to Sacramento on Friday morning, early, so you know, not exactly expecting a blast from the past. And yet there he was. Cherry stem in his mouth and staring straight at me. It was obvious he didn’t recognize me outright, but I must’ve struck a chord or something, the angle of his body as he stood there, head cocked a little to one side, and that half smile. But I guess he couldn’t place me. Which is OK, it’d been a while, and I’m sure I looked different in a business suit. See, I work for a big pharmacy chain, in marketing, so I need to have “the look.” You know, keep the corporate thing going … so that was probably part of it.