The first time I saw Harry he was scampering over the fence into my backyard wearing nothing but a thin towel with the word “guest” stitched on it in flowery red script.
I was lying on my weathered but still comfortable lawn chair reading the latest Joseph Wambaugh in the warmth of a summer’s afternoon when a commotion from the house next door…Walt and Joy’s house…caught my attention. There was the sound of hushed murmuring and skulking feet and then Harry…lean and tanned and looking fearful and amused at the same time…scaled the fence and crouched low near to the rosebushes.
“Can I help you?” I asked, curious as to how he would explain his actions.
Harry, quite unperturbed by my presence, shook his head amiably. “No, I’m good, my friend,” he said in a stage whisper, “I’m just waiting for my clothes.”
And, on cue, jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers and socks and underwear came soaring gracelessly over the fence. “Call me,” a voice…Joy’s voice…whispered from the other side of the fence just before the sound of scrambling footsteps and the abrupt slamming of a backdoor could be heard.
Harry, chuckling and humming, gathered up his clothes and looked over at me. “I suppose you’re wondering what this is all about…”
Walt was a long haul trucker…a ruddy, mostly-affable brute of a man who spent long stretches of time out on the road…and Joy…well, Joy was not the kind of woman who could deal with being alone for long stretches of time. Joy was not very discreet so seeing strange men sneaking into and out of her house from time to time while Walt was away was no surprise to any of her neighbors.
“Walt’s coming home earlier than she expected,” I said knowingly, closing my book and sitting up.
Harry smiled brightly, impressed by my calm, casual grasp of the situation. “Just so, my friend, just so,” he said, “good thing he called her when he hit the city limits…”
“He does that to give her time to clear out any…unexpected visitors…” I replied. “Walt’s not as dumb as Joy thinks he is.”
Harry walked closer to me carrying his clothes. “That’s awfully sporting of him…I’ve seen his photo and he’s a big bruiser and I doubt that I would want to have him find me in his bed with his wife,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder ever so warily. “I’m Harry, by the way,” he said extending his hand, “pleased to meet you.”
I shook his hand. “Gregory,” I said, introducing myself, “and it’s…interesting…to meet you.”
“Look, Greg,” Harry said with a twinkle in his eye, “I don’t suppose you would let a new friend use your bathroom, would you? Ol’ Walt’s call came while me and his missus were…well, we were already pretty sweaty and I didn’t get a chance to shower off.”
I stifled the urge to chuckle. I could see where this guy’s rouge’s charm would have appealed to Joy. “Sure, why not?” I said going with the surreal flow of the situation. I heard the distinctive growl of Walt’s semi rumbling up the avenue and, in the next moment, I glanced up to see Joy, wearing nothing but a silk robe, looking down at us from her upstairs guest room.
“That would be Walt, I’m guessing,” Harry said, his face slightly clouded over.
I nodded. “Guess you’d better get inside…the sight of you wearing nothing but his guest towel is likely to upset the balance of the strange little game those two play…and likely to introduce you to a whole new world of hurt.”
Harry laughed and slapped me on the shoulder as I led him into the backdoor of my house. “Your concern for a new friend’s welfare is commendable, my son,” he said, “you’re one in a million.”
Harry showered and dressed while I made some coffee. He came into the kitchen and handed me Joy’s guest towel. “Would you be a pal and see that Joy gets this back at some discreet moment?” he asked with a rakish, conspiratorial wink.
I took the towel and tossed it next to the door to my laundry room. “Sure,” I said. “Coffee?”
“That would be lovely, Greg,” he said sitting across the kitchen table from me.
We drank coffee while Harry, never at a loss for words it seemed, spun wild…and, I presumed, mostly untrue…tales of his adventures all over the world; I was charmed by his hubris and engaged by his colorful gift for gab. After a couple of hours, Harry said that he had places to go and people to see and so he thanked me for my assistance and hospitality and disappeared into the evening.
I slipped the towel back to Joy a couple of days later while Walt was out playing poker with some of his friends; Joy was quite undisturbed by the fact that I had become part of one of her extramarital dramas.
The next time I saw Harry he was sitting at the bar in a restaurant I liked chatting up a plump, buxom blonde. It was 6 months later and I was there on a blind date with Annabelle, a friend of my cousin Louise. I didn’t think that he had seen me but a few minutes after Annabelle and I were seated he came over to our table.
“Gregory!” he said boisterously. “It’s good to see you again, my friend!” Harry pulled up a chair between us and turned his attention on my date. “And in the company of such a stunning young lady,” he said with a bright smile in his voice. “Well done, lad, well done indeed.” Harry gallantly kissed Annabelle’s hand as I introduced them to each other and she looked at me both puzzled and charmed.
Harry leaned close to me. “I’m really trying to spend some…quality time…with that pretty young thing over there,” he said nodding towards the blonde at the bar, “but I’m a little short. I don’t suppose you could front me a hundred bucks…I’m good for it.”
I frowned and then shook my head and chuckled. I slipped him the money and he smiled brightly. “You are the salt of the earth, my friend,” he proclaimed as he stood up. “Hang on to this one, dear lady,” he said to Annabelle, “he’s a keeper.” And, with a bow, Harry hurried back to the plump blonde. A few moments later the two of them were heading out the door Harry favoring me with a jaunty wave as he exited the restaurant.
“What the hell was that?” Annabelle asked, still both puzzled and charmed by Harry.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
Eight days later, an envelope arrived in the mail containing two 50-dollar bills and a note that said “a wonderful time was had by all. Cheers, H.”
Over the course of the following year I received, at random intervals, strange and wonderful offerings from Harry: postcards from places both exotic and mundane, strange little curios (little figurines, colorful rocks, etc.), photos of women of all kinds (young and old and of various shapes, sizes, and races) with bawdy, but oddly respectful, recollections about the subjects scribbled on the back, and even a delicate pendant that he asked me to give to Joy with his best wishes (I did so the next time Walt went on the road and Joy smiled beatifically and kissed me on the cheek when she thanked me for bringing her Harry’s gift.) There was never a return address.
The last time I saw Harry began on the night he woke me up at
“What’s wrong?” I said.
Harry looked at me and then shook his head. “You don’t want to know, Greg,” he said soberly. Then he glanced towards the stairs that led upstairs and frowned. “I’m not disturbing something here, am I?” he asked with genuine concern. “Is the lovely Annabelle sleeping upstairs?”
I was surprised that he remembered her. “No,” I said, “that didn’t work out.”
Harry nodded. “That’s a pity, you two looked like a good match.” He paused and then asked “Can I crash here tonight? I won’t be any trouble.”
It was all very perplexing but I nodded and said, “of course.”
Harry smiled weakly. “You’re a good man, Gregory.”
Harry spent the night in my guest room and in the morning I woke to the smell of coffee and toast and bacon. Harry was in the kitchen…freshly showered, shaved, and pressed and looking like I had remembered…cooking breakfast for us. “Good morning, my friend!” he exclaimed happily, the haunted look that had been in his eyes a few hours before replaced with that charming twinkle.
“Is everything okay?” I asked warily.
“No worries, Greg,” he said jauntily as he dished up plates of bacon and eggs for us, “made a few calls and everything’s jake again.”
I had no idea what he was talking about but somehow I knew that there was no chance of getting a straight answer out of him on the matter so I let it go. Harry regaled me with a new spate of tales…mostly true, I supposed now…of his latest adventures while we ate breakfast.
After breakfast, Harry thanked me for my hospitality and then, with an impish wink, asked me if Walt was on the road. “Excellent!” he said with gleeful gusto when I told him that Walt had left for a long, cross-state trip just a few days earlier. Harry shook my hand and then, quite suddenly, hugged me. “You’re one in a million, Gregory.”
I stood on my front stoop watching as Harry walked next door and knocked on the door. The last time I saw Harry he was winking at me as Joy’s arms and giggles encircled him and drew him through her front door.
I have no idea how long Harry stayed with Joy but I had the feeling that, when Walt arrived home a week or so later that he had long since moved on.
And that was indeed the last I saw Harry though I have no doubt that he will turn up again and indeed I look forward to it…to the next time I see Harry.
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