Strangers on a Treadmill

He was there when I arrived.

"Morning Seymour."

"Morning John."

We continued to work out for about twenty minutes without saying anything. It was a bit weird. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer.

"Coffee, Seymour?"

"Damn! I thought you would never ask. "

We didn't even shower or change; just grabbed our stuff and went across the street to Mickey D"s.

"John, how is everything at your end?"

"Quiet. It is as if I never left. If I hadn't read what happened in the paper, I never would have known anything. How about you?"

"Just the opposite. Tricia is furious and is taking it out on me. The police completely cleared me, but she is certain that I had something to do with his attack. She is spending more time at his place playing nurse than she is at home. She even slept over a couple of nights. In a way that is sort of relaxing. I enjoy my time away from her more than with her. You did a pretty good job on him. His Triathlon days are over."

"I wasn't sure. I never read anything about exactly what injuries he had. Did the police give you a rough time?"

"Damn right they did. They checked my phone records and bank accounts trying to connect me to his attack. After a week or so they finally gave up. Tricia was the driving force trying to get me charged."

"Just curious, but where did you go?"

"I was on a windjammer cruise out of Rockland, Maine. I had a blast."

"Good for you. I got to sit in a classroom for eight hours a day for three weeks."

"Now what John?"

"Well I don't know about you, but I am out of here. I have a job lined up near Pensacola, and I am leaving at the end of the week."

"Are you going to divorce her?"

"Nope. I am just taking everything and going. If she wants a divorce she can file for it. I am curious to see if good old Serge will step up and take her in, or dump her."

"What about your house and stuff?"

"I am leaving her everything except the money in the bank. She gets the mortgage, the car payments, the utility bills, and her Kohl's credit card."

"That gives me something to think about. you will let me know where you are going to be, right?"

"Sure. By the way, did Serge give you any problems?"

"Not really. I sprayed the garage cameras with wasp spray the day before and used a meat mallet from the kitchen to finish the job. One quick hit to the head and then a half dozen smashes on each hand. I even made sure to get both of his thumbs. He never saw me. He was still out when I left."

Robin was not home when I got back from the gym. I took a quick shower and headed into work. The boss was not happy when I gave my notice. I emptied all the bank accounts, except for a few hundred dollars. I closed out the credit cards. We usually kept a zero balance on the cards.

After another quiet supper with my wife, I grabbed a beer and headed for the den. I dug out my passport, my birth certificate, and my DD-214. There was nothing else I wanted to take with me. My tools from work were in the back of the Subaru. The only thing left to get was some clothes and my laptop.

Robin was congenial, but still very quiet and reserved. She left for someplace early the next morning. She stopped telling me where she was going whenever she went out, over a year ago. I guess she felt that I didn't need to know. It took me less than thirty minutes to load the Outback. At the last minute, I grabbed the George Foreman. It just seemed like a good idea.

I was on US81 just outside of Luray, when I decided to let Seymour know that I left. It was a short text message; 'Perdido Bay Marina'. Whatever he decided to do was going to be okay with me

It only took me a few weeks to get settled in. My cell was turned off the entire time. The work was different, but the same; if that makes any sense. Most of my spare time was spent getting the trailer livable. Everything worked okay, but it did need a bit of love and attention. The second bedroom became a junk catching area. There was a small diner about a quarter mile down the road from the marina that was open 24-7. I found myself eating most of my meals there. Unfortunately, the closest gym was seven miles away, so I decided to take up jogging. I didn't like it, but I did it anyhow. At least there were no hills. And then my first guest arrived.

"Seymour, you found it!"

"Not too hard John. The GPS brought me right to it. Bob's your Uncle."

Who the hell is Bob? I thought.

"you just passing through, or are you staying?"

"Staying, if you got room. Nothing to go back to."

We spend an hour or so getting Seymour set up in the second bedroom, and then grabbed some supper at the diner. Seymour had driven straight through, sixteen hours, and was dead tired. I left him sleep in the next morning.

Bill Morgan hired Seymour on the spot. He hated using the forklifts and was more than happy to turn it over. The pay sucked, but Seymour didn't seem to mind. He just wanted enough to get by. He did have a stash of cash that he brought with him. I took him to Foley later to get a safety deposit box at the same bank that I used. The trailer was not that secure.

Tricia had kept insisting to the police that Seymour was responsible for the attack on Gene Dickens. They could not prove anything. His alibi in Maine was rock solid and they could find no accomplices. Naturally, the relationship between the two of them went downhill fast. Tricia demanded that Seymour get out of the house, which he refused to do. She finally moved in with Dickens and two days later, Seymour made his break.

I decided that it was time to contact my daughters. My first call was to my eldest, Clara. As soon as I said 'hello', she hung up. Cora, my youngest was a bit more open. She called me an inconsiderate bastard before hanging up. I made the attempt and failed miserably. The good thing is that I won't be stuck for two expensive weddings down the line. I turned my cell back off.

Seymour and I got settled into a routine fairly quickly. Every morning I jogged about five miles and then we met at the diner for breakfast. They made a nice little low carb breakfast bowl, just for me. We caught lunch when it was convenient. A couple of weeks later things changed.

Argie Martin had been living in a Nordic Tug in slip 16 for the past six months. She had no land transportation to speak of, so Seymour was more than happy to offer her a lift when she had to go someplace. I soon lost my dinner companion and shortly thereafter, my breakfast partner. It was only a short time later when the second bedroom in the trailer became a junk room again. Seymour was happy and I was happy for him. Every time I tried to talk to him about her he became evasive. Bill Morgan wasn't much help either. He was just pleased that she paid her dock fees and utilities on time. She never asked for any type of special treatment. Something was going on, but as long as Seymour was happy, I would keep my nose out of it.

I seemed to lose track of time. It had been almost a year since I left. I had no contact with my wife, my daughters, or anyone else from home. Occasionally, Seymour, Argie and I would go out for supper and we always had a good time. I was able to figure out that Argie was from Ohio, that she was a military wife, and she had no children. She never mentioned her husband, and I was not about to ask. Argie always wanted to go to Foley or Gulf Shores to eat but refused to go to Pensacola. It was an odd quirk, but I was able to accept it.

In was a Monday morning when things came to a head. It had rained all night and didn't look like it was going to let up. Instead of my usual jog, a put on my old army poncho and lumbered over to the diner. I was just finishing up my second cup of coffee when I saw a familiar car pull into the marina. It was the green Subaru Outback that belonged to Gene Dickens. A woman, who appeared to be Tricia got out, opened an umbrella and dashed for the marina office. A minute later, she opened the door and waved to the driver. Gene got out and limped into the office, trying unsuccessfully to dodge the raindrops.

Damn it, Seymour! Answer your phone. Finally, I got a response.

"Seymour! you got a problem. How soon can you cast off and get the hell out of here?"

"What the hell are you talking about. Slow down."

"your wife is here and Gene Dickens is with her. They are in the office talking to Bill right now. It's your choice. you can speak with her, or you can quietly sneak away. I think the rain would give you a pretty good cover."

"John, It's going to take me at least fifteen or twenty minutes. Can you delay them a bit? "

"I'll try. Get your butt moving."

My next call went to Bill. He snickered a little as he agreed to send the interlopers to my trailer rather than to Argie's slip. I got back to the trailer just as they were leaving the office. Of course, I invited them in and tried my best to kill as much time as I could. I was casually chatting with a man who I had attacked less than a year ago, maimed and crippled, and I was hoping to hide behind my newly acquired facial hair. They never said why they were there or why they were looking for Seymour. I didn't ask.

The rain had slowed down to a gray drizzle as we walked to the docks. The tug was barely visible across the bay because of the mist, but I was the only one looking. They were just staring at the empty slip. Five minutes later the ship was completely gone.

I never identified myself or told them how I knew Seymour. They didn't ask. I excused myself so that I could go back to work. Shortly thereafter, they were gone.

I never saw Seymour again.

ooo0ooo

Several months later we had a visit from Phil Martin, Argie's brother-in-law. He was looking for Warren, who was Argie's husband. The last contact Phil had with his brother was over a year ago. Warren and Argie were berthed at the Black Water Bay Marina in Pensacola. There were several domestic disturbance reports on file in the Escambia County Sheriffs Department concerning the couple and then they suddenly stopped. Warren Martin was retired from the U.S. Air Force and his retirement checks were still being cashed, although no one has seen him or his wife for over a year. I had no idea how he tracked Argie to the Marina. Maybe it was just a guess.

Another six months passed. I missed Seymour. The work was steady, but I was getting bored with it. I spent the evenings with my Black and Tan trying to decide if I wanted to look for a companion, or maybe try a different location. I avoided the bar scene and never did take to church. The gym was a bit inconvenient, and none of the waitresses at the diner were interesting enough to date.

I finally got interested enough to contact Volvo-Penta again. They had two good openings; one in Biloxi and the other in Galveston. I couldn't make up my mind.

I was trying to decide between the two at lunch when I was rudely interrupted.

"Hello, John. you are a hard man to find." Robin looked old and tired. The last two years were not kind to her.

"Sorry. I wasn't hiding. Why the surprise visit?"

She slid an envelope across the table. "your final divorce papers. I thought that you might want them. I filed under abandonment after a year."

"If you knew where I was, why did you feel the need to drive down here. you could have just mailed them."

"I don't know. Closure I guess. you screwed me over bad, but I guess I deserved it."

"That wasn't my intention. I just wanted to get away so you could be with Serge. I felt like I was holding you back."

"Well, you didn't leave me with much. No money and an over mortgaged house that the bank ended up taking. What really pissed me off is that you took the George Foreman."

"I figured your lover could take up the slack. Where is he by the way?"

"Things didn't go well for Serge after his accident. He went back to Estonia about six months ago."

"You didn't go with him?"

"I wasn't invited." I didn't respond.

"Serge was a bit bitter. He felt that you had something to do with his attack. Things seemed to cool between us after that."

"Now what?"

"Clara got married last June and they relocated to Ocala. I am going to move in with them and play grandmom. I decided to take a short detour on the way to deliver your papers."

Silly me! I sat there like a fool waiting for some sort of apology, but none came. It was as if she was still rubbing it in my face, after all, that time. There was no remorse or regret on her part.

"Well Robin, I am glad that you stopped by. I am sorry that I missed Clara's wedding, but she didn't seem to want me there anyhow. I am also sorry that things didn't work out with you and Serge. I know how important that was to you. Is there anything else before you go?"

"Yes! I want the George Foreman."

ooo0ooo

I decided on Biloxi. It was only two hours away. The casinos sound like fun. I gave her the damn George Foreman.