Laughter filled the street and suddenly I saw a cluster of people rushing past my car, hurtling themselves through the crosswalk as the light flipped green. Their giggles escalated into screams as they leapt to the sidewalk in mock fear. Adults acting like little children.
A man looked familiar and as I pulled into the intersection, I realized who it was going to church on a Wednesday night-- Hugo.
I HONKED my horn and the group turned around, watching me pull into the nearby loading zone as fervently waved my hand like some city psychopath.
Hugs paused and then smiled, walking towards the car as I rolled down the window.
"Going to church?" I asked.
He nodded. "AA. Hey, Mike will probably be here as well. Want to meet for a coffee later?"
Mike. The son-of-a-bitch.
"Cut him some slack. He's trying."
"Yeah, right." I responded. "Trying to get me killed. How long has he been coming?" I asked.
Hugo stared me down and I realized I shouldn't have asked. I knew it shouldn't matter but it did-- I wanted to know. How many times had Mike started something and never finished it?
Deep inside I wanted Mike to ring my doorbell and tell me in person, but I knew by the way I had treated him he was too scared to face me.
Chicken shit.
Hugo motioned he had to go and we waved farewell, saying good-bye to our chance meeting.
As I drove down the street, I looked in the rearview and watched Hugo say hello to someone.
Perhaps it was Mike, perhaps it wasn't. Regardless, I realized I missed the son-of-a-bitch.
But not enough to call him.
