“Seymour”

     What I remember most was his hands.  The way he would use them  brown hands, with his long fingers to reach out and grab my old man hands.  They always felt warm and kind of damp.  When I lived in the park, before they made me move here, to this sterile shit box, Jose would come by maybe once or twice a week.  I could tell it was him, by the way he knocked; three quick knocks, a pause, then one more knock.  He always came around dusk.  I lived in space number one thirty-six and I had a nice trailer.  They told me not to give him any more money, but I didn't mind, I liked when he came to visit.  I’m not a queer, I mean, I was in the Navy.  He was just a friend, ya know, a friend that needed help.  Pauline, she was my neighbor, space number one twenty-nine, right on the corner,  she told me that Jose was drug addict and that her son Paul, if she wanted him to, would pound him good.  Pauline always fed them god damn cats, her trailer smelled like cat piss.  I never went over there. 
When Jose came he always brought me something to eat.  Usually some kind of fruit.  He said it was good for me.  He told me that his mom has diabetes too and the doctor says fruit is the best medicine for the diabetes.  Sometimes he would ask if he could take a shower.  I told him, “ok Jose, you can take a shower but I’m sorry, I don’t have any money today.”  He would take off his clothes with the bathroom door open.  I didn’t look at him but I saw him, ya know?  The trailer would steam up, he took long showers, for fifteen minutes, or so.  Not like me, I take quick showers.   I’d stand up when I heard the water turn off.  I can’t stand up for that long no more, my knees don’t hold up so good.  I would go to the kitchen and make like I was doing something, like the dishes or looking for something in the cabinet ya know?  That’s when he would grab my hands, he had nice hands.  He never wanted that much money, just ten dollars, or so.  But I would always tell him, no, ya know, at first.  He would take both of them hands and grab one of mine and look at me with them oval eyes, those eyes were the color of that rock, that rock made of that prehistoric sap, I can’t remember the name.  Those was powerful eyes, dang sad eyes, desperate, ya know.  He’d tell me the money was for cigarettes.  I’d tell him to quit that shit, cigarettes aint nothing but a waste of money.

The police came one night right after Jose visited.  They said they was from elder abuse prosecution unit.  I hadn’t never heard of such a thing.  They asked me all kinds of questions and wanted to come inside my trailer.  I told them I was just fine but they had there clip board and was writing all sorts of things down and looking around. They even opened up my cabinets.  They asked me about Jose and if I was giving him any money. They told me about a senior self-defense class or something like that.  I told them that’s just crazy I cant do no damn karate, with my knees and my diabetes.  They said it wasn’t that kind of self defense, more about protecting my assets.  My assets imagine that.  Before they left one of them cops, a woman, she told me, “Seymour we are going to be coming around more often to check up on you.” She told me , “you need to remember to eat more fresh fruit.”