You found the humor and the money in retrofitting retired ambulances as ice cream trucks. You sent them out to the suburbs and beyond. It was all beyond for you since you never left your workshop.

You spent hours in between writing extensive, absurd product reviews on all types of pain relieving medication. I’m still not sure whether it was the process you loved or the hope that your review might be the one to sway a stranger to plunk down money on a useless balm. I loved that mystery and scabrous wit- I had to if I wanted to keep you in my life. Mom and I tried to bring you home so many times, resorting to trickery, and even bribery at the end, until we saw that being alone was just another facet of your charm.

We weren’t sure what to do when we finally found that you died under the hood of an old ambulance, a stroke victim at fifty-two. You were cremated and that was all anyone knew. Were you scattered on the high plains winds? We hope so because that way everyone gets a little piece of you.

© 2021 Jeff E. Brown. All rights reserved.

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