Jimmy


Another college short, and maybe something more will come? I haven’t added the newer section in this post.


That’s funny. Jimmy always has a clean raked walkway and cut lawn. I hope nothing is wrong. He has been my neighbor for five years now. I always see him cutting his grass and manicuring his curbside. I don’t know why he would let the once green short lawn to become a jungle in Amherst, New York. His flowerbed looked like winter had come in June, wilted and drooping. I walked up the driveway and knocked on his white-painted door. I waited to hear any signs of the pitter pattering of sneakers or slippers inside. I was turning away muttering a prayer that nothing had gone wrong. On the ball of my heel pivoting, Jimmy opened the door,

“Lucy, hey. What’s up?” 

I turned back around to see him in plaid sweats, a t-shirt, and an open-bathrobe. His short blonde hair was sticking up in every direction, and his blues eyes had deep circles.

“I um…came to see if you are ok. I haven’t seen you outside recently, and I wondered if everything was okay.” My eyes wondered to my pink flats.

“Wow, thanks. Um..you can come in.” 

I had never been inside of Jimmy’s house. I had talked to him many times outside. He could tell you every flower name in the northeast, and make any plant come back to life. I had expected his house to look like some internal green house made for humans with plants everywhere and bugs on the wall, but he had a clean modern style with mod chairs and Monet paintings. I had really misjudged my neighbor.  

Jimmy led me through the pristine hallway and into his small kitchen. Even his kitchen was updated down to the linoleum tiles of the floor. It all looked like it was right out the show room. He motioned for me to sit down on a bar stool that sat near the kitchen island separating the living room from the kitchen.

“You have a great place here, Jimmy. Do live here by yourself?”
              “Thanks. Ah yah, yah I do. I have never been one to have roommates. Want something to drink? Eat?”

I hopped off the stool and leaned against the corner of the island facing the kitchen. Asking, “Sure, What drinks do you have?”

Scratching his head and opening the stainless-steel fridge door, he stared inside. 

“Ah, I got Coke, tomato juice, and Heikien. What’ll it be?”

“I’d love some tomato juice if that’s ok?” 

He grabbed the bottle at set it down on the green granite countertop, “Yah that’s swell. You like this stuff? Not many people do.”

Jimmy grabbed a glass from the cupboard to the left of the fridge. As he poured it, Lucy answered,

“Oh yes. It is one of my favorite drinks. It’s weird, but it tastes good, and I get my veggie serving.” Lucy gave a small giggle, as she sat back down on the bar stool. 

Jimmy grabbed another glass and poured some for himself. He leaned on the island supported by his elbows. He took a sip the juice and gave a refreshing sigh. There was silence as Lucy looked around and waited for Jimmy to talk.

“So…” Jimmy said, breaking the silence, “…you wanted to know why I have abandoned my grass and flowers.” 

“Well, just if you are ok. I miss seeing your manicured lawn and exotic flowers.”

He smirked as he said, “Oh, so you don’t care about me? It is all about my flowers.” 

“Hahaha, not the only reason. I really did wonder if you were ok.”

“Just teasin’ ’.” Jimmy continued after he sat on the stool next to Lucy, “It has been a hard few weeks. You really want to hear all this?” 

Lucy nodded her head yes. Her short ringlet curls bouncing. 

“Ok, three weeks ago, I found out that my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, the week after that my dog died, and this week I got layed off work. I haven’t had much of a desire to do what I usually love, even taking care of my garden.”

Jimmy just sat starring at the tomato juice washing it swish around in his cup. Lucy tried to think of what to say. How could she comfort this man who seemed to have got pounded all at once. 

“I’m not one to really talk, or blurt things out. I’m sorry…I don’t—”
Lucy held up her hand “No, don’t feel bad, I asked.” Jimmy gave a small smirk. “Does your family live close?”

“No, I am the only one of my family members who don’t live in Washington. I moved here five years ago from home.” 

“Who don’t?”

Jimmy laughed “You makin’ fun?”

“Yep….so do you have brothers and sisters?”

“Two sisters, and my mom, we’re a tight knit quartet.”

“That must make it really heard for you?”

Jimmy got up from the stool and rinsed out his glass. Turing the faucet back on, he got some water. “Water?”

“No, thanks.”

“Yeah, it is hard to be here when they are there.”

“I know some of your pain, my mom is a breast cancer survivor.”

“Oh wow, really? You never know a person’s story by looking at them.”
Lucy tilted her head as she asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well,”  Jimmy sat back down on the stool, “You don’t really think about what happens in a person’s life by simply looking at them. I mean really think, who are they?”

“Yeah, never thought of that.” 

“Please come sit down and stay awhile, I don’t get much company.” Jimmy motioned toward the living room with an outstretched arm. Lucy got up and slowly walked over to the living room. She looked all around her at the walls teaming with classic artwork. There were many paintings by Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh. Somehow the room didn’t seem cluttered. His sectional couch was a dark beige with red accent pillows. Across for the couch, there was a 32” flat screen TV mounted on the wall. 

Plopping on the couch Lucy said, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Jimmy had followed her into the room and sat down on  a few cushions. “Where do you work?” 

“I own a bakery on Main Street. I started it about 2 years ago.”

“That is awesome, what is it called?”

“Cookies, Cakes, etc.”

“I’ve always driven by that one, but I have never actually been in.”

“You should come in, I’ll give you a particularly large sample,” Lucy said emphasizing particularly.

“You there often?”

“Everyday but Sunday. It’s closed that day.”

“Awesome. I’ll stop by sometime.” 

Lucy continued to look around the tastefully decorated room. Sitting underneath the TV stand she noticed a Nitentdo 64 controller.

Lucy eyes grew big as she pointed to the controller and asked, “Is that a Nitendo? The original one?”

“It sure is, and only the best. I prefer the old Nitendo and its games. Mario Party is my favorite.”

“Me too! Can we play?”

“Yeah.” 

Jimmy walked over to the TV stand and got out two controllers. He turned on the Nitendo and plugged in the contollers. He handed Lucy the clear purple one and he took the gray controller. 

“Did you have Nitentdo when you were little?”

“No, my cousins did and I would play with them. I did win a Play Station when I was about ten.”

“How’d you do that?” Jimmy said as he bent down in front of the game console and continued  to turn on Mario.

“My neighbor worked at a pet store, and we bought a lot of dog food. My family was entered into a drawing. We didn’t even know we won. On Christmas Eve, my neighbor rang our doorbell and told us— with the game system in her hands..”

“Wow, cool story.” I could see Jimmy turning pressing the front button and shuffling around his games to see where Mario party was hiding. He put the inch thick rectangle into the top whole. I could hear it, the original theme song, “da-da-de-de-da-do” I off-key and terribly hummed. “Hahuh,” laughed Jimmy. “You trying to hum along?”

“Yes, I couldn’t sing or hum to safe my life.”

“I can tell. “ 

“Hey,” I said as I threw a pillow at him hitting him right at the neck. He chucked it right back at me, but i ducked out of the way. 

“So what is your favorite, Mini game to play? Lots to choose from.”

“I like the one where you got to climb down the chain, past the mines. And I like the Wall climbing one. It tells you which buttons to press.”

“Got it. Best out of ten?”

“Deal.” 

Not only did we play the two mini games I suggested, and eight more mini games, we played Mario Cart to break our tie winnings. I finally beat him after ten games of  Mario Cart. I beat him by two races: Sherbet Land and Rainbow Road. 

“Ha, Ha!” I said, standing up and pumping my arms and fists in the air. “Who’s the Nintendo expert?” 


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