I Shoulda Thoughta That..................

Last night, the phone rang. Not my phone, THE phone. Doyle wanted to meet this morning. And in a new place.

I may have mentioned before that I go to Dunkin' Donuts for breakfast - a lot. Especially this time of year, when they have their iced tea on sale. Any size for a buck. You can't beat that. The closest one to me is on St. George's Avenue, between Main and Green Streets, in Woodbridge proper. It's a 15 minute walk from my place. I used to go there a lot before I got my car. Not so much now.

Doyle wanted to meet at 9:30. I got to the small strip mall where the Dunkin' Donut shop was located very early, about 8:45, so I sat inside and had a chocolate chip muffin with my iced tea. At 9:15, I walked out of the store and turned left.

There's a park right next to the strip mall. Bernie Anderson Park. (It's not really much of a park. More of a narrow strip of grass alongside a road that runs between St. George and School Street.) Doyle wanted to meet in the park's gazebo.

It was cool there, in the gazebo, in the shade. I sat there with my iced tea, and waited for Doyle. It didn't take him long. He came walking up from the School Street side.

"Hey, Denny! How're ya doing? Told ya I'd be in touch more often." He came in smiling, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a golf shirt and carrying a cup of coffee from a deli on Main Street.
"Hi, Doyle. No suit today?"
"Nah. Decided I needed a break. Been pretty busy lately." He sat down and stretched out his legs. "Nice here. Remind me to thank Craig for finding this place."

We sat in the quiet for a while. Enjoying the stillness.

"OK. So, Doyle, why the meet? And why out in the open like this? Do you have something new on Gordon?"
"Not really. There hasn't been any sign of him for weeks. We're not sure why, but...let me ask you a few questions."
"Why? I don't know anything about Gordon."
"I know. Just humor me."
"Fine. What do you want to know?"
He paused, sipped his coffee, then nodded to himself.

"You take a lot of different pills for your heart, right? I mean,.. you know,.. since the transplant."
"Yeah. So?"
"Bear with me. What do you take?"
"You want the names?"
"No. Just what they're for."
"OK. I take something to control cholesterol.."
"Right. They switched you to a different one last month but you had ..call it a bad reaction, so they switched you back."

I looked at him.

"you don't miss a thing, do you?"
"We can't afford to. Now go on."
"Alright. I also take a couple of different pills at different times of the day to control blood pressure.."
"And you take these because?"
"As I understand it, when they took out my damaged heart, they severed the nerves. They didn't reattach them when they put in the new one. Because of that, I'll never feel it if I have a heart attack. I take these meds to reduce the risk."
Got it. Makes sense. But there are other ...meds...that you take that are even more important, aren't there?"
"Sure. The anti-rejections meds. I'm on a pretty low dose, but there are 2 different meds that I take. Each of them, twice a day, probably for the rest of my life."
Anti-rejection you said, right? So you take them to prevent your body from rejecting the new heart."
"Right. The meds are really immuno-suppressants. They suppress my immune system so that it doesn't attack the new heart. I believe every transplant patient has to take them, regardless of the replaced organ."

He was looking off into the distance during this part of the conversation. Now he nodded, and looked right at me.
"These are prescribed by your doctor, and supplied by your pharmacist, right? How does that work?"
"Really? well, the prescriptions are only valid for a couple of refills before they have to be renewed. And I do have regularly scheduled blood tests to see if the dosage on any of them needs to be changed."
"Why do they do that? Wouldn't the dosage stay the same?"
"No. There's a level that needs to be maintained. Too high and my other organs could be damaged, too low and my risk for rejection increases....Why the sudden interest in my health, Doyle?"
He smiled. "Sorry, Denny. It's not your health we're interested in. It's Gordon's. Remember, he's a transplant recipient too. And, we're pretty sure he hasn't been able to refill his anti-reject scrips for quite some time."

Now it was my turn to pause.

"You think that the reason he seems to have stopped has something to do with his no longer having his medications?"
"Some of the medical staff do. I'm not so sure. Anyway, he doesn't seem to be operating outside of New Jersey anymore. It's still our thinking that he's keeping tabs on you, and will eventually get in contact. If he is facing some kind of rejection situation, that may be sooner then later."
"What if....."
"What if.. what, Den?"
"What if he's dead already?" I said it.
"No. Not Gordon. He won't go out without some sort of gesture. All of the shrinks agree on that." He stood, shook his coffee cup to see if there was any left but threw it out anyway. "So do I."

I stood up too. We shook hands.

"Gotta go, Denny. Keep in touch and enjoy the weather."

He walked back towards School Street. I stayed there a while longer.

Sometimes, I Forget............

This cleaning-up-the-apartment thing I've been doing is coming to the end of it's 3rd week. I'm pretty much finished with the living room, and have started on my bedroom. (Actually, I'm done with the Living Room cleanup-wise, but I decided to hang some pictures on the wall behind the couch and I haven't found what I want for back there yet.)

Three weeks may seem like a lot of time for approximately 1 1/2 rooms but I'm taking my time. My routine has been to start as soon as I get up, and do one specific section at a time. I still had stuff in boxes from when I moved in, and had piled stuff on top of that over the last 15 years or so. I've been pretty brutal with some of the top stuff - throwing out what I figured I hadn't worn or used since the operation 3 1/2 years ago. It's the older stuff that causes me problems.

The older things have memories attached.

Memories can be tricky. We remember things the way we want them to be, which may not always be the case.

The older boxes held pictures, cards, and things from the old house and my old job. Memories of my daughter when she was young. My father when he was alive. Good memories.

And bad memories.

You can't get away from the bad memories. You can suppress them - forget them - but eventually something you come across brings them back. Dealing with them isn't easy but it has to be done. You have to accept them as they are, put them to rest, and move on.

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This morning was slightly cloudy but the day would be turning sunny. I decided not to do any cleaning and instead would head out to a couple of places that carry poster board copies of famous artists' works. I figured on getting some cheap prints for the living room. I needed gas, and would need cash. I used the ATM at the TD Bank across from ShopRite, and took the back way towards the cheap gas station I use. I passed by Pelzman Park which is tucked away in a back corner of Avenel. I saw the man just standing there, alone.

I had the Flasher out, and the passenger side window rolled down. There was no one else around. I slowed, and got closer. Then..

I passed him by. He was out in the open. Too open. It didn't seem sensible. I drove on.

After filling up, I headed back through Avenel towards St. George's Avenue. I figured on stopping at Dunkin Donuts for some breakfast to go, then heading towards the stores. Passing through one of the apartment complexes, I noticed someone walking up ahead.

Again, I was ready with the Flasher.

Again, I passed by. I just wasn't feeling it.

Before I got to Dunkin Donuts, I pulled into the PathMark parking lot. I wanted a copy of today's paper and some lottery tickets. I parked, then noticed that there was a woman sitting in the car a couple of spaces away.

 I went inside.

As I headed back to my car, I noticed that the woman was still in her car. I went to my passenger side, and opened that door. Now I was partly shielded. I looked around. No one was around, and the sun was starting to break through. I took the chance and turned.

Point, press, Flash.

I got in to my car, started the engine, and drove away.

After stopping in Dunkin Donuts, I hit the A. C. Moore's store in Linden without success. It was still early, so I drove down Route 1 to the Michael's outlet in North Brunswick. I found a reproduction of Van Gogh's "The Mulberry Tree" which I thought would look good on my wall. I headed home.

Near the Edison/Woodbridge border I fell in behind a school bus. Since it was only around 10:30, I figured there wouldn't be any kids on board so I wouldn't be making any unexpected stops.

Well, there weren't any stops, but he was driving slowly and there was no way to get around him. And it took him a while to get going after a stop light. On Chain of Hills Road, he crossed over into the oncoming lane whenever he took a curve. My guess was that he was distracted. Probably on a cell phone.

Finally, we approached the light at St. George's and there was now an extra lane for turns. He went to the left, and I went right.

 I couldn't see the driver, but there was something I could do. A quick look around. No one there.

Point, press, Flash.

I aimed at the bus itself. I'd forgotten that the Flasher would drain the power out of a motor vehicle. I moved on. He didn't.

Sometimes, it pays to remember.