Walt

Walt smiled while crumbling the empty plastic covering from the pinwheel mint between his fingers. He was happy that no one was around because the incessant crackle of the plastic would drive them mad. He chuckled to himself when he thought of how people would look at him when he mindlessly crinkled the plastic. He did feel bad that it bothered them but for some silly reason, it made him giggle. Fortunately for others, he was sitting on his front porch alone.

The sound did not bother him much at all. Partly due to the fact that he has tinnitus in both ears. The high, hissing, “weeeeee” sound that he hears all of the time causes the words people say to sound more like mumbles than words, and many annoying sounds, such as crinkling plastic, are no longer heard. Also, his hearing focuses on things from a distance and shuts off all sounds closest to him. Both become an issue when his wife is talking to him. He mutters the dreaded word before he realizes he inhaled the breath to make the sound.

“Huh?”

He shuddered as he thought about the pain he sees in her eyes each time she has to repeat herself. However, he would much rather have her repeat her words. He shuddered again thinking of how terrible it would be to just ignore her altogether. “I sure am shuddering an awful lot on this summer day.” He thought then tossed the plastic in the small trash bin sitting next to his chair.

The young man approached the porch carrying a bag over one shoulder, a notebook in his hand, and stepping with a hurried gait. He did not expect to see the elderly gentleman standing with an extended hand in greeting nor dressed in the way he presented.

He expected to see the 73-year-old man sitting in a chair on the front porch with his hands resting on a cane he had positioned between his knees.

The young man envisioned the older man’s shoes as white tennis shoes with velcro straps, his pants a light brown, polyester, a white t-shirt or a white sleeveless tank top (either would be stained), and an unbuttoned short sleeve dress shirt over the t-shirt, and thick black-rimmed glasses.

However, when he stepped up to the porch while extending his own hand towards Walt, he found a 73-year-old man that had bright eyes with no glasses, a loose-fitting colored t-shirt, Khaki shorts, flip-flops, and no cane.

Walt welcomed him with a strong handshake and a slight gesture to the seat next to him.

“Thank you for your time, sir,” said the young man as he reached down in the small case he had opened.

“Not at all! My name is Walt if you would like to call me by my name. You can call me sir if you would like or Paps or one of the many other names I have been called throughout the years. Just as long as I know it is me you are talking to then I will answer,” Walt said with a warm smile on his face.

The young man sat up and placed a microphone between them and a small notebook on his lap. He looked over to Walt and returned the smile. “Thank you, Walt.”

He positioned a small video camera so that Walt was in focus and in the frame.

“I really do appreciate your time Walt. As I said on the phone, I will take as little of your time as possible.”

Walt watched him as he adjusted the camera, made sure the microphone was picking up sound and found a blank section in his notebook. He looked up and apologized once again for taking so long and that he will not take too much of his time.

Walt sat back in his chair and chuckled. “Young man, it is your time that you are most concerned about, not mine. You are only here because the local tv station sent you to do a feel-good story. They will use your little bit to fill time so they will not have dead air and they believe it will make the station look like they really care about the community.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not being cynical or grumpy, I just understand how these things work. You would much rather have a breaking story in order to help propel your career. I get that. But, I am getting ready to use up a bit of your time.

Do you think I should apologize to you for taking too long? You may think I should after you ask me your questions and hear my long-winded answers.”

Walt chuckled after his brief lecture and then offered him something to drink.

The young reporter politely declined the beverage, then began with the first question.

“Why do they call you the ice cream man?”