April 10th, 2013
Gloomy Sunday

“Yeah. She’s a tough little kid.” He let out a hoarse laugh.

“Why don’t you eat some of your salad?” I pushed it back in front of him.

He nodded, and took a couple of bites. We fell silent again.

“Maybe you should visit her. Olivia.”

He finished chewing, and swallowed before he spoke. “Maybe.” He laughed again. “You know what’s funny? After it happened—I mean, after she stopped crying of course—she just wanted to hold it. The curl, that is. She just stood in the kitchen, holding it with her little fist, fascinated. Very possessive about it, too. It was her curl.”

  “Yeah.”

“Then, when I left that day, she gave it to me.”

“Sweet kid.”

“She really is. It’s like she knew. Kids know stuff. They really do.”

“Knew what?”

“You might not see me for a while.”

“Why’s that?”

“When stuff like this happens, I need to disappear for a few months. Just hole up in my house with a bunch of turkey sandwiches. Can’t be around people. Places like this. You know?”

I nodded. “Well, I wish you the best of luck, Jason. I hope everything works out for you. I really do.”

He smiled. “You know something? Of everyone, you’re the nicest.”

“I don’t know about that.” I pulled the money back from under the counter. “Listen, why don’t you use this to buy yourself some turkey sandwiches?”

“No. Please. I really want you to have it. Please? Here.” He thrust a thick wad of twenties at me, and stood up abruptly.

I was shocked; he’d left me over two hundred dollars.

“No,” I said firmly. “I really can’t accept this.”

“You can! You can accept it!” Jason smiled eagerly.

“Hello, hello,” said Manny, ducking under the bar. “Slow day, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“ ‘Cept you of course, Jason,” said Manny, giving me a wink. “Good to see ya’, pal.”

Jason smiled. “I’m gonna go, Mary. It was great to meet you.”

“You too, Jason.”

He grabbed his coat, and slipped it over his shoulders. “Hey, Mary?”

“Yeah?”

He took a deep breath. “With the last breath of my soul, I’ll be blessin’ you.” He had a clear tenor voice, rich and smooth. It surprised me. Then he turned and walked quickly out the door.

Manny and I watched him hurry down the street.

“That dude is fucking nuts, you know. Was he okay to you?” Manny asked.

“He was fine.”

“Good.” He leaned in. “So,” he whispered. “How much did he leave ya’?”

I looked away; watched the rain hit the windows in pellets.  “Gloomy Sunday,” I  sang slowly, my voice nearly a whisper.