A Song for Ezra (ONC 2021)(manxman)✅

Beyond the Sea

The regulars, Herbert, Don, and Joseph waited at their usual table, drinking their cups of coffee, a deck of cards in the middle of the table. When the boss (i.e. the program manager, Sheila) wasn't around, we'd play poker, but poker was frowned upon, so we often played gin rummy instead. These guys told me everything I knew. I had no idea how to play cards until I met them.

Before I entered the senior center, I noticed that Sheila's car wasn't in the parking lot. That meant today was going to be a poker kind of day. We mostly played with Monopoly money. Other times we bet each other coffee and donuts from the nearby Dunkin.

"You're late," Herbert said to me as I sat down at their table.

A Korean vet, eighty-five-year-old Herbert Weinberg never went anywhere without his United States Marine Corps baseball cap. He was even more anal than I was and always gave me a hard time whenever I was late, even if it was only by five minutes. Today I was more than five minutes late, thanks to Levi Blum.

"Sorry about that," I said, reaching for the deck of cards. Joe swatted at my hand, nearly slapping it.

"It's Joe's turn to shuffle," Don said in his raspy, former cigarette-smoking voice. After thirty years of chain smoking, he quit last year at the age of seventy-eight, following a week-long stay in the hospital with COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease) exacerbation. He also had pneumonia and was treated with antibiotics. He told me all about it.

"Just one of these days I'd like to see a game of strip poker," seventy-six-year-old Gloria said, sitting at the adjacent table with three other ladies.

"There's only one man here I'd like to see naked," Jeanette said, one of my dance partners. For an eighty-two-year-old woman, she had some pretty good moves and she was the friskiest one here. "Right, Ezra, honey?"

"Oh, stop it," Joe said. "You're embarrassing the boy again. He's too young for you."

"I never said I wanted to marry him," Jeanette said. "I can look, can't I?"

The words that came out of Jeanette's mouth were enough to make anyone blush. I bet she was a lot of fun in her younger days. She often talked about her husband of fifty years, who passed away nine years ago. Although she liked my ass, she told me her husband's wasn't as boney as mine. I had heard her husband looked like Santa Claus, both with his white beard and big belly.

By the way, my ass was never boney.

Jeanette had a touch of dementia, but not as much as Millie. Then again, Millie was ninety-eight years old and was bound to be forgetful. I reserved a dance for her every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at one o'clock. Bobby Darrin's Beyond the Sea was our song, even though Bobby Darrin wasn't from her era. Her era was more Glenn Miller and Benny Goodman. Beyond the Sea was so ingrained in her memory and her routine, it became part of my routine.

Although Millie forgot a lot of things, she never forgot my face, the song, or how to dance.

My days didn't feel complete if Millie wasn't there. She always wore a headband in her shoulder-length gray hair, along with matching earrings and necklaces, reminding me of my grandmother who passed away when I was fifteen. Like my grandmother, purple was also her favorite color. Some days Millie didn't make it due to illness or a doctor's appointment.

"Is it time to dance?" Millie asked.

"It's only ten thirty," Don said. "Give the boy a break. He just got here. Dancing's at one."

"At one o'clock, Millie," I reminded her.

"Stop distracting him," Herbert said. "He's gotta focus."