Watched my friend pass away nicely. His daughter offered him forgiveness in her eulogy. Another man told stories about him that actually seemed more about himself. Why couldn’t I go up there and give my version? I thought yesterday that I had blabbed my friend’s death to anyone who asked me the bland ‘how’s it going’. I’d launch but no one took the bait. No one asked me who he was, what he was, or how I knew him. I guess if they had, I would have framed it much like this guy. 
I met his son at the party after. He had not known his father well. Indeed I got more off the father than he did. His father had left this man and his sister when they were very young and journeyed across the country to jump start a third or a fourth veneer. I knew he was a son though he didn’t introduce himself as such. We were there in each others company and I could feel how determined he was to get what he could from his father’s world before the hole sealed itself up. 

‘How do you know Will?’

I asked…certainly a common question at this gathering…common for most of us. I knew it was a shock for him. He assumed I knew. 

We had been standing there by the food table now picked clean. The still present smell of the jambalaya I made was a lit candle to the passing of this man from New Orleans. Two wooden chairs had barricaded our bodies from standing a little closer and the effect was like old presentational theater, two bodies slightly turned out in the appearance of behavior. Both of us tall and good-looking…actually he was beautiful. Black father, white mother…God’s last laugh…interracial is probably the only thing that will preserve the species. The garden always pushes up the most beautiful flower to our delight and care taking. In a way we were similar in our bodies and our energies…except that he was a little rawer version of me. I had 10 years of refinement on him. Light skinned, open-faced, beautiful eyes…living eyes…both of us standing with a sort of what-the-fuck posture…me a little stiffer…still had my suit coat on. He was well on his way to casual-ling up his look…sleeves pushed up…tie pulled down. He was going to get fucked up. He was going to say some things to someone tonight. He was going to find some siblings hair to tear his eyes into. Why did I pull rank on him? 

‘How do you know Will?’ 

I had all ready professed to know Will well, and that’s why he was standing with me. I had shared some outings we had had. I had offered up some references on his life. 

He assumed I was doing my job and filling him up with the father he barely knew; the father who left him to grow up alone; the father whose very essence was so alive in this son. But I chose to ruin it for him. I was making him work for the claim he so readily wanted to slide into and that Will would have wanted so much for him to have. Save himself the guilt for abandoning this Adonis-like man. In spite of you, old friend, in spite of you. And I know because my dad left me too and I never made him pay. And he won’t make you pay either. He’s a good boy. His eyes looked hurt. I wounded him a bit. 

‘Will was my dad.’ 

 I brought out all my first aid now. 

Now Will wanted me to love him. And I already did. 

‘I knew you had to be. You’re more like him than anybody in this room. He really missed out with you. And believe me, he knows he fucked up.’