As we talked, I could hear him hitting his keyboard so he could Google confirmation of whatever I happened to be saying. I was doing the same thing when he talked. After a short period we just gave the specific websites to navigate as we talked.It's a pleasant and invigorating conversation. He is smart and aggressive ... and he plays the violin in an Indie Band. I told him Sarah and I are in the Bar Church band on Tybee Island and I could hear him looking it up. Later I sent him the links.
We make a commitment to talk again on Friday. In the meantime I'm certain both of us will surf the World Wide Web and by the he'll probably know if I have a birthmark or not. Information is instantly available.
I check Facebook after we talk and Shirley Sessions has messaged me. "I wish you lived next door," she wrote. "I could keep an eye on Goddess and Winston, the little gay dog, whenever you and Sarah are away."
I wrote her back and said that I wish we did too. We'd return the favor and watch her cat Mr. Peepers when she's gone.
Shirley lives one block away.
We converse via Facebook.
The I-phone buzzes and it's Sarah messaging me so I'll know where to meet her to pick up the girls. I'm bringing two home while she takes the third to basketball practice.
After dinner I help them with their homework. They ask me the answer to each question, which I immediately Google. They think I'm a genius because I know the answer to everything.
At the evening's end, Sarah and I are snuggled on the couch and we're up later than normal. It had been such a long day! We turn everything off or plug it in to recharge for the next day. Television, computer, phones, I-Pad, I-Pod and the water dripping from the kitchen sink are cut off.
While she gets ready for bed, I take Winston, the little gay dog, down the stairs into the back yard. I sit on the bottom step while he takes his time. He will not be rushed. He looks at me, licks himself, looks at me again to see if I was watching, and then wanders off into the dark.
A white moon illuminates the Palm Trees. Waves crash into the shore. Stars dance in a black sky. Channel markers blink on and off on the ocean. The lighthouse shines this way and that, going round and round and round. Choirs of mussels tick and pop in the marsh of dead low tide.
Winston, the little gay dog, returns and is ready to go upstairs. He has to kiss Sarah goodnight before sleeping under the bed on her side. He follows me upstairs. Goddess is waiting for me to pet her. Nightly rituals take place and we collapse into bed.
Falling asleep it occurs to me that I've been around the world today just so I could get back to this place. And tomorrow, I'll do it again.
