This is the sixth part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, and Part V before continuing.
I think it was the next day that I ran into Old Jim again, but I couldn’t be sure. Time has a way of blending together when you don’t have anywhere in particular you need to be and you’re just trying to make it from one day to the next.
I had dozed off in what had become my spot under the bridge. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I looked up to see Old Jim sitting next to me and looking over at me.
I jerked from sleepy to alert in a second and scrambled to get away from him. “You stay away from me!”
“Oh, come on now, is that any way to talk to a brother?”
“You are not my brother!”
He clutched his hand to his heart, as though I had deeply hurt his feelings. “Can’t we be brothers while we’re living under the same bridge?” He sounded innocent, but I knew better now.
“But you’re not living, are you? I’m the only one who’s living here.”
He laughed. “You call this living?”
“More than you! Maybe you used to live here, but now you’re gone. This is my bridge now!”
“Do I look like I’m gone?”
“Yes!” I said, hoping declaring it would make it so. “So be gone! Be gone! Be GONE!”
I blinked. And he was gone.
In his place stood Michael. He stood right where Old Jim had been – or, at least, where I thought Old Jim had been. I glared at him until my brain could process what my eyes were seeing: a scared little boy, trembling as he looked up at me, his eyes wide and starting to fill with tears.
“Michael, I’m sorry. I –”
He turned and ran before I had a chance to explain myself.
Well. Shit.
To be continued…