When Lin got home from work, he announced that he and Kenny were going to Antone’s tonight to hear some tunes. I announced it was too bad he hadn’t let me know sooner, because there was no way the tasty rice, beans and cornbread were going to be ready before they left. Looks like I am on my own for dinner. More for me!

While I was mixing up the cornbread, the kitties were chasing a housefly around the kitchen. They were being so cute, but I was a little busy, so aside from making sure they didn’t do anything completely insane, like jump up on my worktable full of foodstuffs, I was ignoring them. Then I heard an adorable little mew from the area under the kitchen window. Such a sweet little sound, I called out to Myu, because, well, she’s the only cat around here who has an adorable little mew, right? I feel someone rubbing against my foot and look down, and there’s my sweet little Myu, but simultaneously, I hear that adorable little mew from under the window again. Obviously, it wasn’t Myu, unless she has learned to throw her voice. I lean around the worktable, and what do you know … Ronin does possess the ability to mew cutely. In fact, it is even sweeter and more adorable than Myu’s, but don’t tell her I said that. Alas, it appears Ronin only uses this voice when chasing houseflies, because when he communicates with me, he still sounds like an alien harpy with laryngitis. As soon as he saw me looking at him, the sound that came out of his mouth made my ear bones crumble.

And we had some more bad news tonight. This morning I heard a little bit on the news about a wall at a construction site in Brownsville collapsing and killing two workers. Besides thinking how horrible that was for everyone involved, I didn’t think much more about it. Brownsville is a long way away, and we don’t really know anyone down there, or so I thought this morning. When Kenny showed up this evening, he asked me if I had heard about the accident in Brownsville, and I told him I had heard a little. That was when he told us that one of the workers that was killed was someone he and Lin used to work with a long time ago at the South Forty, and someone we saw every so often over the years … a really friendly and great guy, a hard worker, and someone who always had a ready smile for friend and stranger alike. He gave great hugs too, warm and full of affection. Now we’ll never run into him again. So sad. He wasn’t all that old either.

I have one really fond memory of him … the fondest of all. One night, I was walking from the apartment to the old South Forty to go see Lin at work and hang out with my friends. The street I had to walk on wasn’t too scary, but there was one really dark and mostly uninhabited section that always made me nervous to get through, but still, the walk wasn’t that far, and the dark spot was the half-way point. I’d made the walk many times before, and even though it was very late at night, I wasn’t much concerned about my safety. That night though, there was someone else walking on the street. I still wasn’t too worried, but then the guy started talking to me in Spanish. I wasn’t quite as fluent in Street Spanish back then as I am now, and so I really didn’t understand what he was saying to me. I kept telling him this, in both English and Spanish, but he wouldn’t leave me alone … just kept following me and saying whatever it was he was saying. It was making me very nervous, and we were coming to the dark spot on the street. I started walking faster and I yelled at the guy to leave me alone. Just as we got to the dark spot, he grabbed my arm. I stomped on his foot with the heavy heel of my cowboy boot and took off running for all I was worth.

I didn’t know whether or not the guy was following after me. I never looked back. As far as I was concerned, I was running for my life. Rabbits being chased by dogs don’t take the time to turn around and see if the dog is still there. They just run, and that’s what I did … run, run, run. When I had started running, I was still a good three blocks from the edge of the large parking lot and relative safety, and it was all up-hill. I don’t know if I screamed or made any sounds at all while I was running, but I do remember how I felt my heart was going to burst before I got to that parking lot. I clambered up the grassy hill and stumbled into the car-filled and light-filled lot and ran into what felt like a wall. It wasn’t a wall. It was a large, strong cowboy with a sweet and friendly smile. I melted into his arms and wept. We sat on the pavement, and he comforted me and let me cry my heavy sobs until I was calm enough to talk.

I told him what had happened. He told me he’d seen me running and had wondered if something was wrong so came to look closer. Then we introduced ourselves, and he carried me to the front door of the Forty, loaned me a comb for my hair and a handkerchief for my tear-stained face, and walked me into the club and bought me a good stiff drink. Ever after, I always felt safe when he was around, remembering how he’d held me tenderly when I was nothing more than a stranger … a terrified rabbit running for its life.

And now, he’s gone, and I don’t know if I ever told him how much his just being there when I really needed someone to be there had meant to me.