Sunday on the Phone with Al

 Sunday on the Phone with Al 

Seven o’clock, Sunday morning. The phone rings. Uncle Albert wants to know
if I’m picking him up for church.

     “Don’t I always?” I ask.

     “I don’t know - yet.”

     “Hume,” I say.

     “Yes," Uncle Albert confirms.

“But, are you?” he says.

     “I plan to.”

     “When, then?”

     “The usual time,” I say.

     “What time is it now?” Uncle Albert says.

Uncle Albert with Guillaume Apollinaire, c. 1914

Am I going to have to start worrying about this? - that he’s beginning to become confused. It’s the first thing we do, isn’t it? - wonder how other people’s hurts or confusions are going to affect us. Entangle us.

     “What time is it?” he asks again.

     “It’s just after seven,” I say.

     “Oh,” he says. “Right. Yes.” He sounds better.

     “Okay?” I ask.

“When are you coming?” he says.

04.30.18