Old Red (Chapter 1)

by Jim Kopetz

    
     Chapter One of a story...

     I've been here a long time. Stationary, unkempt, a sight for sore eyes. But I wasn't always like this, no siree.  Once upon a time I was a free spirit, driven from coast to coast, seemingly without reason or intent. For a while I lived in San Francisco and I sure did love crossing that great golden bridge they've built for us. Then, before I knew it I woke up in the South, Texas I think. But that was a long time ago. Now I'm here, Red's Junkyard. My final resting place. Metal among metal, rust among rust. I don't care for it much, being so lonely all the time. Don't get me wrong, Red's a good man and amuses me daily without ever knowin' it. It's like he can't even see me among all the others. Trash blends in with trash I suppose.

     Things sure aren't like they used to be. That's our bond, Red and me. We spend our days together and even though he don't seem to notice, I watch his every move. The routine's the same day in and day out. His raggedy old trailer would sway back and forth for a time and then he would exit with his cooler and his folding chair. He'd set up in front underneath the dusty awning (which seemed to provide shade for only a few hours a day) and wait for somebody to sell to, but rarely did anyone come. Maybe one'll come for me someday. Once in a while he'll get up to shoo off some feral cat or a lost dog. One time a dog didn't take too kindly to his shooing and jumped up and bit him in the rear. He leaped and hollered and chased that dog around the yard and I wanted to join them. If only I could join them.