There was my buddy Henry again sitting on a bus bench on Madison Avenue in Covington, Kentucky. I’ve written about him here before.
“Catching a bus, Henry?” I asked.
“Nope, just restin’ here,” he said. “You got a cigarette on ya?”
“I didn’t bring them with me,” I said, lying.
“I haven’t seen you around the apartment building,” I said.
“Ain’t living there no more.”
“Where did you move to?”
“Stayin’ with my brother.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
“It ain’t bad,” Henry replied, adjusting the cap on his head. “I gotta get over there and get my stuff out.”
“You should probably call the landlord before coming over,” I said.
“Why the hell would I do that?” Henry replied. “I don’t want nothin’ to do with him.”
“I’m just saying that you. . .”
“Ain’t really none of your business, Larry. Stay out of it.”
And with that said, I walked away from Henry. After I got a safe distance away from him, I got a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it.
Walking home smoking, I thought of Henry showing up at his old apartment to get his stuff out. Henry ain’t gonna be able to get in. The landlord has changed the lock on the apartment door. That’s why I thought Henry might want to call him before coming over.
For all I care, Henry can climb up the side of the building and break open a window to get his stuff out. Taking a drag on my cigarette, I thought to myself Henry’s right. It ain’t none of my business.
(Photo from merchantcircle.com)