text: The traffic was horrible. Heat shimmered in the air above the cars and the stench of exhaust penetrated the air conditioning, slightly burning my sinuses and leaving an unpleasant trace on my tongue. The entire week had been as bad as this traffic and all I wanted to do was collapse at home and forget that there was a world around me until Monday forced me into it once more. Just get me home, Lord, and I’ll stay there. It was cool in the apartment and leaving the sweltering aroma of the rush hour behind made simply stepping in the door cathartic. The couch beckoned from across the room as I entered but the need to wash the accumulated stress of the week away pulled me to the shower first. I scrubbed beneath hot water then stood, I don’t know how long, with the cold flowing over me. I think I almost fell asleep standing in the shower but my relaxation was interrupted before I was ready to leave. The telephone rang. I knew that I would be unable to get to it in time to answer, so I didn’t hurry really, but my relaxation was thoroughly disrupted so I stepped out of the shower to towel off. I forced myself to dry slowly and carefully, feeling a sort of perverse pleasure in making the caller wait for a response. I walked to the bedroom and again took my time pulling on shorts and a t-shirt. I didn’t intend to go anywhere so I dressed for staying home, again feeling that pleasant twist from denying any departure by my actions. I walked back to the living room, pausing to look at my phone for a moment as it lay on the counter like a trap on an animal’s trail. I reached out for it then turned away and walked to the couch, ignoring the call of civilization in favor of the soft call of the cushions. I stretched out slowly, letting the tension of my entire body fall away into the foam beneath me. My mind drifted gently into a state of ease, forgetting the week, the stench, and the heat, falling toward slumber. A jarring ring brought me upright in an instant. It was the damned phone again. Why didn’t I turn it off? I got up and walked to the counter where the phone rattled against the formica like the buzzing of a snake’s tail with each ring. I picked it up and, as expected, it stopped ringing as soon as my hand touched it. I immediately turned off the ringer and stood for a moment locked between the desire to see who was calling and the urge to put the phone back down and return to the couch. With an eventual sigh, I opened the call log to see who had disturbed my attempt at relaxation. Both calls were from Chris, my best friend for years, and I couldn’t make myself ignore them. With another sigh I hit the button and called him back. The phone rang twice and Chris answered, “Hey man, whatchu up to?” “Well, I just got in from work, took a shower and was almost crashed on the couch when you called.” “Well I’m glad I caught you before you could crash.” Chris responded enthusiastically. “I could use a hand over here for a few minutes, then I’m grilling some burgers and have beer on ice.” I sighed. “Chris, I’m tired and really want some peace and quiet for a bit. Is it important?” “It’s important to me.” He laughed. “I got a truckload of lumber and if I can get it set off by the house, I’m gonna start the new deck tomorrow.” Chris was my best friend, had been since high school, and he was one of very few people who would come help me should I be in need. “I’ll be over in a little while.” I answered. “I don’t want to be out late though, I’m beat.” “See you then.” He replied in a voice that sounded almost like a laugh. Chris was irrepressibly cheerful which was normally one of his endearing traits but at the moment it was sort of grating. I changed to some shorts a little more substantial than the gym shorts I wore around the house, pulled on socks and tennis shoes, then headed out the door. I didn’t realize that I forgot my keys and wallet until I reached for the car door, which seemed typical for the evening. I walked back to my door and realized that, naturally, I’d locked the apartment door with my keys inside. I thought about screaming but I couldn’t really work up the energy so I just moped my way around to the office to get the manager to come unlock my door. She heard my story and reached for the key, coming around the desk toward me as though she had almost as much desire to interact with others as I did at the moment. She did come let me into my apartment, though. I got my keys and wallet then headed back to my car. It was about a twenty minute drive out to Chris’ but he lived out of town and it was late enough that the rush hour traffic was gone and early enough that the Friday evening traffic had yet to arrive. The conditions being much better than my commute home, going to see a good friend, and enjoying a little actual solitude in the car turned out to be decently relaxing. I didn’t even turn the stereo on, choosing instead to enjoy the relative silence. I finally arrived about forty-five minutes after our conversation. Chris met me at the car as I pulled in. “Man! What took you so long?” He grabbed my hand in a shaking grip and pulled me into one of those hugs that accompanied such a cheerful spirit, clapping me on the back as though trying to burp me. “I’ve already got the grill heating.” “Dude, my car was so happy to be hauling me out to unload lumber after work that it refused to go any faster than twenty-five miles per hour.” His humor was infectious and I couldn’t help but respond to it. “It actually turned into the station back at the four way and sat there pouting. It took me five minutes to convince it to come on down here.” He laughed loudly at my joke. “Come on in and say hi to Sarah. She’ll be glad to see you and I’ll grab us a beer before we unload the truck.” “I’ll wait on the beer, but I’ll be happy to say hi. Sarah hugs better than you do anyway.” He chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder as we walked in through the back door. His wife, Sarah, was in the kitchen turning a pile of ground beef into hamburger patties but came around the counter to throw an arm around my neck, holding her hands out clear of me. “Good to see you, Jim. Come on in and have a seat.” “No time for sitting, your husband’s a slave driver.” I responded with a smile. “Every time I come out it’s work, work, work the whole time. You know how he is.” She laughed. She was as cheerful as Chris himself but in a softer way that helped offset his occasionally overwhelming exuberance. “Maybe he won’t work you too hard and we at least intend to feed you.” “I see that.” I gestured toward the pile of meat remaining and the three patties already on the pan beside it. “If you want me to eat all of that I will probably need to be here all weekend.” Chris made a whip crack sound from the door. “Cindy and her boyfriend are going to be back in a little while. He could help unload the lumber but being teenagers they have a talent for being absent when the work’s happening.” He made the whipping sound again. “Now get on out here. If you won’t drink a beer first then let’s get this job on the road.” His truck was parked around back and it was most definitely loaded with lumber. For the next twenty minutes or more, Chris and I unloaded and stacked boards, sorting them into piles for sills, joists and decking. His trailer was parked to one side loaded with foundation blocks. He saw me looking and laughed again. “Those we can just unload as we use them.” He told me. “I seldom drive to town in the trailer.” His own humor made him laugh again. Sarah was putting patties on the grill as we finished up. “I hope you’re close enough to finished that you can watch the burgers!” She called from the soon to be enlarged back porch. “Why? Are they going to do some tricks?” Chris called back in his usual manner. Sarah just turned with a chuckle and headed back inside. “Jackass,” Came floating back on the hot evening air as she left. Chris turned to me laughing. We were both absolutely dripping with sweat and I was very much wishing I’d at least brought a dry shirt. “Why don’t we go get that beer?” He asked me, “Then we can get you one of my shirts to wear at least.” It was funny how good friends often seem to read your mind. I took the beer and downed it in three long swallows. I’m not much of a drinker and less for beer than other drinks, but there is something about an ice cold beer when you’re hot and thirsty that is hard to beat. Chris threw me a shirt as I took the second swallow and walked out to watch the grill. I walked into the bathroom and dragged my own sodden t-shirt over my head. I washed off as well as one can without a shower then put on the shirt Chris had gotten for me. He was a bit bigger than I and it draped enough to make me feel a little emaciated beneath it. I walked back out to the porch, spread my wet shirt over the rail to dry, and grabbed another beer from the cooler. This one I just sipped while chatting with Chris. The burgers were coming off the grill and Sarah was laying out buns and all the trimmings on the bar between the kitchen and dining room when a car pulled into the driveway. “Yep, they might miss the work but they’re always in time to eat.” Chris chortled as the car came to a stop in front of the house. “That’s Cindy and what’s his name, her boyfriend.” We walked in the back with the burgers as they walked in the front from the car. “Hi, Uncle Jim!” Cindy called to me. “This is my boyfriend, Jeremy.” “Nice to meet you, sir.” The kid said as he shook my hand. “Jim’s the hit man I’ve been telling you about.” Chris called from the counter where he was setting the platter of meat down. “I think he’s got about a thousand kills, six of them my daughter’s former boyfriends.” “Daddy would you hush?” Cindy chided. She and Jeremy were both stifling laughter so it was obvious that this joke had made the rounds before. Cindy was a pretty girl, and smart, but I’d known her all her life and I didn’t remember another boyfriend. Sixteen was early enough to pick the first. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy the company, Chris and his family were definitely some of my favorite people, but I had every intention of unloading the truck, grabbing dinner, and going back home for some quiet isolation. What happened involved sipping a third beer after dinner, talking with Sarah and Chris and all the while making playful fun of the kids displaying their gaming skills and laughing. It was an enjoyable evening, really, but when I finally climbed in my car it was nearly ten forty-five and I was exhausted. I got home after eleven and walked straight in for another shower. I sat reading for awhile afterward and finally stretched out in bed about midnight. I awakened just after seven and lay there in bed, staring at the ceiling fan and enjoying the silence. The clock said seven thirty-four when I finally decided to get up and greet the day. I looked out the window at the retreating shadows and decided that I might go down to the pool and swim a little after breakfast then went to the kitchen and cooked bacon and eggs to accompany the coffee which I’d started earlier. I sat down at the table and slowly chewed the first bite of egg. I was washing the bite down with a swallow of coffee when a jarring ring disturbed my reverie. I decided to ignore the phone. I took another leisurely bite, washed it down with more coffee and heard the phone notify me that the caller had left a message as I did. I sighed, reached for the phone and heard the raucous buzzing of the doorbell.