My whole shift I tried to think of who this man was. To this point I still have no idea. I'm pretty sure that means it's someone else I've done something horrible to, and he is just the executioner. I wanted to ask him what Cyrus did, but was afraid I'd give something away. Marcel was still working when I got inside, so I asked him to do it for me when he left. He called me from his car to say that the man was walking away from the Sleep Center when he went off-shift, and he looked like a little boy who had lost his dog. The man's rage has obviously tapped into a deeper feeling of insecurity due to chronic failure. I must remember to use that when he fights me, in lieu of strong punches or coherent attempts at self-defense.
I will manage to avoid him since it's Labor Day weekend, and that means my annual pilgrimage of graves. I go to see my father's grave, my mother's grave, and my uncle's grave. I also visit a couple other graves that I don't like to talk about. Since New York City, where John James Audubon is buried, is too far away, I also make a trip to Audubon County in Iowa to put flowers at the feet of his statue.My father is buried in a different state than my mother, so I have to rent a car to make the whole trip. It ends up being a big part of my budget, but I figure it's worth it. Ever since Mom died it's been a lot easier to make the trip to see Dad since no one's making fun of me for doing it. Once Mom died too I put her into the trip. My uncle died just a couple years ago from a long life of drinking and pill popping. When he was dying, he asked if I would stop at his grave too on my Labor Day trip. It never occurred to me to do that, but I said okay. Then at his funeral, which was a whole bunch of drunk guys in a steak house, all his friends were real nice to me. Later that afternoon they let me do a couple donuts in the mud pit with an old Dodge Charger. Some of them even knew my dad, and they patted me real hard on the shoulder.
