Was talking to my neighbor in the driveway today–her chubby little one propped on her hip.
“Did you hear about Tommy’s boy?” she said, with a look. “Killed in a car accident–no seat belt.”
I didn’t know Tommy’s boy, even though he lived just a couple doors down. I used to see a bunch of kids–13, 14, long-haired and droopy-drawered, laughing and yelling and scuffling up and down the street. But I never knew one from the other.
I know he played drums–had a band that practiced every Saturday afternoon. Loud, angry drums. Sometimes I’d get irritated, but I never really minded all that much.