by Michael Tuberdyke

Mark did everything in his power from cracking up as he related the story to the group of friends he had not seen in over a year about his escapades from the previous evening. He thought it was all very funny and lost of control himself and settled down after only becoming slightly embarrassed that the other two found nothing humorous in the story.

John looked over toward Phil. Phil looked worried. John thought this was odd for he had known both for a long time and knew Phil had done much worse under the influence all those years ago.

“I don’t know. It was just really crazy. If you see Bill, he’ll tell you. It was like the old days and then when The Boys are Back in Town came on the classical station we just lost it. I mean I could’ve died. I was that happy.”

The other two nodded their heads. Mark raised his hands in the air and began to sing.

 Guess who just got in today

“Sounds crazy,” Phil said politely. He looked around Mark’s apartment. It was empty. It was not completely empty but each room had potential, which was only ignored. The friends sat around a card table on plastic fold out chairs. In the next room Mark had a pile of blankets to act as his mattress.

Phil did not say anything about the apartment anymore than John. They had spent more than a decade moving from one flop to the next and understood it was better to carry less than more; although, neither wanted to see Mark still in it.

“How’s Marie?” Mark looked over to John.

“She’s going to start preschool next fall.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“I know. I know. I don’t know where the time goes.”

“You still talk with Steph?”

“Yeah. We talk, when I bring Marie over to her place or whatever.”

“That’s good. It’s good to have both parents.”

Everyone agreed. The three of them did not know what it was like to have both parents as they came to age. The conversation did not turn to that. That was so far in the past that it was not even prevalent to life as far they cared anymore.

Phil then talked about his job. He talked about plaining and face joining pieces of hardwood and how difficult it was to do glue up when building solid oak tables. He did not like what he did for a living he admitted. He enjoyed the creative problem solving of furniture making, but he did not like making pieces for other people for it took energy away from making things for himself. This had always been the case with Phil, but the difference Mark admitted was that Phil stuck with the job and did not preemptively quit with nothing else lined up.

The three friends then talked some more. At times it was not easy and the lull in conversation was only a proof of time that passed. This lull would be brushed over with a question of how another member of the once large group was doing. At times no one knew, but everyone wished everyone else well.

Michael Tuberdyke is the author of the novels, The Pharaohs and The River May Run.