Goodbye, Old Friend

generated using OpenAI

Joe pulled up his minivan at the octogenarian Mr Smiths' house. It was sunny outside, and the neighbourhood seemed to be too quiet that day, just the way Joe felt inside. He hadn't talked much that morning, and even if he tried to, who would he talk to when Mr Smith was the only person who had always given him a listening ear? Now he just learnt from a phone call from Mr Smith last night that he was moving to a retirement home.

He stepped out of his car and walked towards Mr Smith's door. He had bought two cups of coffee on his way. One for him and the other for Mr Smith, who was a lover of black coffee.

Before he could knock on the door it creaked open, the smell of coffee and old books rushing through his nose. Mr Smith stood by the door resting his whole weight on his walking stick. For a man of his age, he looked younger with fewer wrinkles and an inviting smile, but his bones were frail now that he needed help either with his wheelchair or walking stick to walk around his house. But somehow in his eyes there was hope and enthusiasm.

"Joe", he said with surprise in his voice. "You had to come?" He asked, moving out of the way and back to his wheelchair, which he carefully placed by the window overlooking his driveway.

"Yes, Mr Smith. I don't want to miss it for anything," Joe replied, stepping into the house.

"What are you going to miss? I'm just moving to the Retirement home downtown," his voice was warm.

"Still there's a part where your junks need to be packed in a box"

Mr Smith smiled "Junks?" He chuckled, looking from one shelf to the other, each holding a good amount of trinkets, photographs and artefacts. "Each piece here holds a story so dear to me," he replied.

"Alright then let's pack up your stories. Shall we?" Joe asked, pulling out a box from underneath the study table.

Mr Smith rolled his wheelchair closer to Joe, and together, they worked hand in hand and packed each piece into the box. Mr Smith did his best to hand him things his hands could reach while telling the stories each held. Then he went silent.

Joe looked up to know why the sudden silence to find Mr Smith staring down at a picture of him with his late wife and son. His countenance quickly changed as he rubbed his fingers across the glass.

"I should have been more careful that night," Mr Smith said, his voice filled with emotions.

Joe didn't say a word, but he abandoned what he was doing and sat closer to Mr Smith and listened as he spoke, and somehow he felt what Mr Smith felt.

Mr Smith continued, "I've always imagined how lonely it will be for me in this house when my family died from that accident. I thought that I would die of loneliness" he looked up from the picture to Joe. "But then you started showing up. You became friends with an old lonely man"

Joe smiled, "You know when I heard you at that diner complain to the old waiter lady who you had a crush on about how you couldn't climb the roof again to fix your leaking roof?" Joe looked up at him and smiled heartily.

"No, I didn't have a crush on her; she was crushing on me ", Mr Smith laughed.

"Men, we just can't accept we loved first, do we?" Joe joked and the bother laughed hard

Then, there was silence as Joe went back to dusting and packing stuff. Then he continued, "Honestly when I heard you complain knowing too well I was good at climbing. I thought your blood would be on my head if I didn't come to help and fix it and you somehow climb on your own and fall to your death"

"I remember you. That rejected neighbourhood kid who fed from doing menial jobs for neighbours." Mr Smith handed him the picture to pack. "But why did you reject payment from me?"

"Because you accepted me without judging me like the rest of them" he referred to other residents in the neighbourhood.

"And you kept coming back, fixing the leaking sink and teaching me how to use a smartphone"

"And you never chased me away. You became that father I never had" Joe said, emotions piling up in his voice. "You know after the death of my parents at a tender age, I got into crime to survive, and along the line, I was arrested and later released from prison. Everyone I knew rejected me except you, Mr Smith. You took me as your son and taught me all of the good things I know now. You made me stay away from crime and I'm glad I met you."

“Son, life isn't worth living if we can show love to people around us. Especially to those that have derailed and are willing to get back on track," Mr Smith said, taking Joe by his hands.

"I'm going to miss you, Mr Smith. It just feels so hard to say goodbye" This time there were tears in his eyes as he hugged the old man

"Nobody's saying goodbye. It's just a drive downtown and we'll reminisce on what I've missed. Come on boy, be strong" Mr Smith replied hugging him back

Just then another car drove up to the driveway and honked.

"That must be the people from the retirement house, " Mr Smith announced.

Joe got up and peeked through the window. "It's them, and I'm done packing", he said, opening the door to let them in.

After an exchange of pleasantries, Joe let them pick up the boxes he had packed to their car as Mr Smith ordered them to wait outside for him while he got one last time alone with Joe.

He picked up a tiny toy aeroplane from a heap of junk on the floor
"Remember this?" He asked Joe.

"Yeah, I see it around all the time. Must have belonged to your son" Joe said.

Mr Smith gave a hearty laugh. "My son never liked toys. He preferred video games. It's mine"

Joe looked at him funnily and smiled.

"Don't judge a man that has his reasons." Mr Smith defended himself, looking at the toy aeroplane. "My only regret is not travelling the world, and I bought this to remind me of that" he looked up at Joe. "Try not to have any regrets in life, son. You get to live your dreams while you're still young. It's hard to do some of them when you're old" he handed the aeroplane to Joe. "Now wheel me outside"

Joe took the little aeroplane from him and put it in his breast pocket, then he wheeled Mr Smith outside to the waiting van. He helped him get up and watched him gently walk into the van. Then he carefully closed the door.

“Is this… what you reay want?” Joe asked Mr Smith one last time. His voice was barely more than a whisper.

Mr. Obinna looked around the street, everyone seemed to be busy. “Look around you, Joe. This body isn't cut for this busy life anymore. Don't be a stranger, come visit me sometime” he added.

Joe looked around and realized Mr Smith wasn't wrong, everything has its time and season.

He nodded “I will”.

Immediately, the Van engine came to life, and then, with a gentle honk from the driver, the van rolled into the street and disappeared from view.

Joe deep his hands into his breast pocket and brought out the little aeroplane Mr Smith gave him. The only thing to remind him of Mr Smith. He stared at it for some seconds then he put it back into his pocket and whispered

“Goodbye, old friend.” with that he walked to his car and zoomed off.