Building 11 “The Down Vest”

Today, the sky was dull and gray. It wasn't that way earlier in the day. Earlier on it was sunny and bright, with a nice gentle breeze. I took out my old down vest, just so the chill of the wind would be comfortable. My dad gave it to me when I was younger. I think it was meant for his son, whenever that was supposed to happen. On my eighth birthday I think he figured out he should stop waiting on a son and probably put that energy into his daughter lol.

It is a faded olive color with a plaid interior, and the cloth on the interior has pills from being washed and rewashed over the years. For a long time it used to smell like cigarettes. My mum told me once that it had been his smoking vest back in college. Eventually, the smell of the cigarettes faded, but to this day I find that smell comforting, even if I never smoke.

I make a point to try to not wash it unless I have to, and generally do it by hand. I replaced the down in it once. It left it feeling lumpy for a while, but it eventually settled.

I put on a surgical mask today and took a walk at a local forest preserve. There really wasn't anyone on the trails, and the ground was damp from some rain the night before. I like the way the ground feels after the rain. When I was younger, I would take off my shoes and socks and go barefoot. But once when I was a teen I ended up stepping on an old nail. I had to go to the hospital, and that essentially ended the practice, outside of my own yard and visits to the beach.

There are supposed to be storms the next few days, and I am looking forward to sitting out on the porch with dad. I think he needs it. He has been sullen the last week, but he normally gets that way after mum's birthday. Another few days and he should be right as rain, and likely craving something greasy.

Thursday saw me working with Eric again. He has been weird lately, or at least more nosy than usual. He was asking about the vest and wondering why I was an only child. Even after I explained it to him, he ended up asking me later in my shift if I was positive I didn't have any siblings. I told him I was sure, and he seemed shaken for the rest of the night.

He is a weird guy.

I told him that mom started getting sick soon after I was born, and that the doctor said having another child was a bad idea. They tried to go the adoption route, but they were never able to meet the requirements. I tried to convince them that I didn't mind being an only child, but I think dad and mom wanted a child more for them than for me.

They eventually settled on a dog instead, and that was that.

Thirteen years was a good age for a dog, and when he passed I think my parents had gotten the kid bug mostly out of their system. Didn't keep them from falling in love with every boy I brought home, but that didn't bother me as much as you would think. Most kids I knew growing up were constantly fighting with their parents about dating, whether it was the act of dating or who they were dating. My parents always let me get away with stuff like that.

“Go for the throat,” my dad would tell me whenever I would go out. My mom would say a bit more than that, but only when my dad wasn't in the room.

I never really gave much thought about growing up without any siblings. I have always enjoyed my alone time, and I think that I enjoyed being the apple in my father's eye. I think about mom passing and how much more complicated it would have been if there had been another kid for him to worry about.

Dad and I have one another. I think that is enough, at least for me.

Not that I have always been on my own. I've always had a small number of friends, like Betty and Danny.

When I was younger, I had a good friend named Tracy. She was very shy, but I was too. If I hadn't noticed she was reading the same series as me, I doubt we would have started talking at all. We would hang out on the edges of the playground, our backs against the fence and our faces buried in some book or another.

The teachers tried to get us to play with the other kids, but they never really seemed interested in having us around, and would often ditch us once the teacher was out of sight. Eventually, they stopped trying to incorporate us. I suppose they came to the same conclusion that we did, namely that having one friend was better than having none at all.

We hung out all the time, and by the time I was a teenager there was a running joke in my house where my mom or dad would call out “daughter” and we would ask which one they were asking about. They would respond with “the better one.”

Eventually, we ended up growing a bit apart in high school. We just seemed to start developing different interests in different people, and though we would be friendly and my parents would constantly ask about her, by the time I left for college, her and I had mostly stopped talking altogether. We kept up a little bit, mostly through emails that would ask how the other was doing, qualifying the exchange under the heading of “It has been too long,” ending with a promise to keep in touch more regularly.

We both kinda suck at keeping up, and it has actually been six months since I heard from her. With my schooling coming to an end an my job at the historical society, I guess I have just kinda forgotten about her, as sad as that sounds. I'll make sure to write her soon.

She is the old sweater of friends, but the good kind.

I ran into that same damn cat from a few weeks ago. It followed me for a little bit while I was heading to get my meds. It soon lost interest though, running off to attack a squirrel that had just ran up a tree. It is a big cat for a tabby, and though I didn't wait around I am pretty sure if the squirrel came down it, it would be fucked. I ended up passing that way again on my way home from the pharmacy, but by then it had moved on. There was blood on the ground and bits of fur, like it had been torn apart.

There was a shortage on my medicine, but I had enough to spare to make sure that I was okay. They got it sorted, though they cut it closer than I would have liked.

The storm is starting up soon. I'm going to wrap this up and see if my dad has come home yet. I have to grab our rainwater glasses from the dishwasher and get them in the freezer. There is nothing dad hates more than a warm rainwater cocktail.