The neighborhood old guys whom I hated

When I was still very small, there were a couple of old guys whom I often encountered in our local neighborhood. Concerning both, they were the sort who seemed to loath children. Looking back, I do not know if they knew who I was or not at the time. However, every time that I passed them on the street heading in the opposite direction, there would be a smirk, and then something said. They seemed to act much the same when I was undergoing puberty. I also remember both were quite slovenly, and that even in winter, would wear sandals on bare feet. Both used to slink along while assuming an attitude, and I recall thinking that they represented a type of person that I definitely did not want to become. Another recollection is that they always insisted walking right down the middle of the street. What is more, if somebody happened to have the misfortune of coming the other way, under no circumstances would the old guys yield the right-of-way. When strolling with my father one day, he told me to not walk on the side of the street, but to put out my chest and be confident in my movements. However, with the two old guys, whenever I saw them coming, I always shifted to the side a fair way prior to crossing their path. Nevertheless, even if I attempted to pass them while taking no notice, there were still the snide remarks about me attempting to “walk like a man” or “hurrying to get home before something happened.” Thus, I really hated those clowns.

Having offered that information, after I joined the workforce, it was revealed that both old guys were pottery industry insiders. One was a very famous creator of tea ceremony implements. The other turned out to be the head clerk of a very old and respected shop. Knowing that, I then realized that from a very young age, they must have known whose son I was. Nevertheless, they had acted in the way they did. With the passage of time, however, we started to exchange pleasantries on occasion, and such sometimes amounted to actual conversations. Be that as it may, their style of speech never varied, it always seemed to be angry language. Anyway, about 10 years later, at around the time that I started to be recognized within the industry, one day when I was walking down the middle of the street, I saw that one of the old guys was doing the same from the other direction. Before colliding, however, he yielded the right-of-way. When doing so, his usual snarky remark was transformed, he said, “You seem to be going places.” In that instant, I thought that I had won out over one of my childhood tormentors, but later I developed more complex feelings.

Again, I was very much conscious of the fact that the two old guys had seen me since I was very small. It seemed that they both hated me, and that they were always ready with a wry smile, and that just their presence in my general vicinity would drive me to the side of the street. However, what I later realized was that in both cases, each represented an important link with the local community. Sometime later, I remember that one of them called me up on the telephone rather unexpectedly, and it was then that I came to know that he was not in the best of health. I also found out that due to his illness, the outlook was quite bleak. Anyway, when I shared with him the fact that I also suffered from the same disease, we got into the practice of talking to each other on the phone each day. What I remember in particular about those conversations was him telling me to make sure to look after myself and to not follow his example of not doing anything about our shared illness. After a while, I no longer received phone calls, from this chap who when I was small, would invariably send me on my way with something nasty ringing in my years. However, over the course of the final month of our exchanges, we each took the opportunity to listen closely to what the other had to say. In offering a prayer on his passing, I will always be grateful for having met the old man and for having got to know him.