I was out in the yard yesterday doing something; I don’t remember what. I was either filling the birdbaths or raking up the profusion of Ash seeds and acorns that have been falling. Something like that.
So I was out there, and this car drove by. An old white guy was at the wheel, and he slowed to a crawl as he passed, peering closely at the rental house across the street. This struck me as odd, as he didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would know Martín. I figured it was the lawyer/landlord who owns the place (along with 42 others), although truth be told we haven’t seen or talked to the guy other than thru his secretary for ten years. Then he drove on.
I didn’t think anything of it and continued watering or sweeping or whatever I was doing.
A while later, Guinness barked (He was helping with my chores.). And this same old white guy came walking down the street. He wore a red shirt with “Campbell” emblazoned across the front and was holding some papers under his left arm. He walked up to Alex’s house next door. A few minutes later I looked up, and this old white guy was walking back.
He seemed to be steering clear of our yard and looked at me sheepishly as I raised my head. He held up a stack of red papers, which seemed to match his shirt.
“I’d come over to talk to you, but…”
I figured he was going to say something about the barky dog.
“… but I don’t think it would doing any good.” And he pointed to our blue Lloyd Doggett campaign sign stuck in the grass near the curb.
I looked over at the sign and chuckled.
“Ok,” I said, “but good luck to you!”
He was silent for a moment and he kept walking.
“It’s hard work,” he said.
And he walked down to Joe and Irene’s house and knocked on their door.