Yesterday at Chinook Bend RV Park on the Chinook River in Oregon I watched a man remove the wheel from his red rusty truck. I watched him pour a Tupperwear container of oil onto the grass next to his beat up trailer.
"Big job, huh?" I asked.
"Yep," he said. "Almost too big." Then still covered in grease, he picked up one of his many fishing poles and headed for the river.
This morning, walking Annie B. in the fog shrouded meadow I watched a mortuary van ease down the dirt road. I rounded the bend and they were parked in front of the man's trailer.
"Did someone die?" I asked quietly.
"Yep," replied the driver who was drinking coffee and wearing a white shirt and tie.
"The man in the trailer?" I asked.
"Yep. You fish?" he asked me.
"Nope," I replied.
"You cook?" he asked.
"You eat the salmon?"
"If someone cooks it," I replied. Then I said, "What are you waiting for?"
"The deputy, got to have a deputy," the driver said. I took a last look at the beat up trailer, the pile of fishing poles and the rusty red truck. I looked at the oil stain in the grass.
"Well, have a good one," I said.
"You too," the driver said.
4 years ago