Category: Unexpected

Both were called Jenny
one a good friend of a decade
the other acquaintance of two years
not yet classified
could become a solid chapter
or
slip to footnote.

In the Alpine club it was said
there were old climbers
and bold climbers
but no old, bold climbers.
He was.
Legendary
first Englishman to stand atop Everest
many other notable firsts
this too
first visit to New Zealand.

Tickets
the probability of Wimbledon final
or Super Bowl.
$20 when $20 was one a half hours work.
Old Jenny is well-connected
knows the right people
thinks she can squeeze blood from a stone
yes please
two for us plus new Jenny if possible.
“Done.” She will meet us there.

The talk and slides astounding
white fangs of ridge
rotten granite pinnacles
sky hung ropes
protracted roll call of the dead.

Phew!
Coffee or wine before home
maybe both
some people’s lives: one crowded hour.
New Jenny wanting a souvenir
asks for her ticket
“Complimentary!”
Old Jenny giggles and leaves.
I feel like Judas’s brother.

Black is beautiful 60s posters screeched
she was.
Born in scattered islands
growing up in white suburbs
I hadn’t seen many African-Americans – never a woman.

It was the age of Flo Jo
attention had a head start
cat like grace and imagined lion sexuality
every day at breakfast.

An airfield on the perimeter of civilisation
accommodation and work. Live and earn.
200 men maybe a dozen woman
the odds not favourable.

It could have been Pam’s humour
she was here with her husband
we worked mornings together
serving breakfast
she must have noticed. That look.

She whispers,
“she’s got no hair……the one you fancy ”
Tangled tumbling tresses belied the statement
joke?
“She’s got lots of hair.”

“No. Hair,” she said smiling slowly
hand waving downwards
“pussy
she shaves. I see her in the womens.”
Brazilian then a native of Brazil.

One day I have the 1000 yard stare
not uncommon here
a familiar face
and the voice – southern fried chicken.

“Missing something?”
ahhhhhhh
“Don’t worry honey we all missing something”
I’m sure she winked.

Relentlessly cheerful
she worked 9 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.
and called everybody dear
the type of office manager every workplace needs.
Invoice?
Pay slips?
Sick leave?
Bereavement entitlement?
“Paid. Here. One week per year of employment. Three days.”
Quick. Definitive. Unequivocal.
Solutions with a smile
even at lunchtime – if urgent.

I was sure we had paid it
so was she.
Vanished.
“One place it might be
try the third drawer down”
I did.
It was
with a fortnight’s timesheet – hers
filled in for 80 hours.