Sombrero

Note: I want to thank JBAZ for this particular challenge. It made me think of a particular moment in my life that I had almost forgotten. Your honest opinions matter... -K.D.

I did not know you and never will. It was one evening, late coming home from work, and I happened to look out the window at your place. I had passed that window many times before and seen the inside of that place: yellow walls, a single door visible from that angle, and a large sombrero next to that door. What made that one night very different was the fact that you were actually home when I looked. You were in silhouette and I caught you for a brief moment before the bus moved on.

*

I wondered about that sombrero more than anything else. I was still finishing up things for school. I had travelled overseas to work and to have a life that was not defined by the environment I grew up in. I was a student who worked part-time all over the city, and I had somehow managed to move to one of the trendiest neighbourhoods there. Sure, I had to share a very small place with three other roommates; sure I had a room that did not have any windows or proper ventilation; sure, I had one roommate who was so promiscuous that she once came home on a Thursday – I think it was her birthday – and proceeded to turn on the stereo in the kitchen full blast to cover up the sound of her having sex with her best friend and a stranger she picked up at a club (I know that he was a stranger because when I woke up – about three hours after the show – their clothes were all over the kitchen table; still grateful for the wallet left out and open that day); sure, I should have moved out sooner and perhaps returned to my job overseas. It was all true. But at least I could say to myself that I had other roommates who were really cool; I had friends who commiserated when I told them about the carnival in my home (one had the common sense to tell me not to sleep with her); I had a roof over my head and finally some money saved after living in a place where I had to share the rent. There was a life there. I was not completely alone.

And then, I saw you.

Who were you? You suddenly popped out of nowhere on my ride home. You were an old man wearing glasses, in profile, all alone (from what I could see), and you had a look on your face that was one of the deepest signs of regret I ever saw). There were no tears in your eyes; you did not need to share them.

*

Now, why do I still think about that man? It is all due to that sombrero. I know that he could have bought it at one of the outdoor markets or special events in the city. I know that he could have actually travelled to Mexico and saved it as a reminder of a happier time. I know that it could have been a gift from a friend, a colleague, or even an old love from the past that could not be forgotten.

But I did not believe any of that.

I knew our neighbourhood too well. The homes were small, compact, even ant-farm like, and your home was basically one or two rooms. I had to fill in the many uncomfortable blanks of the situation and I saw an entire life defined by those walls.

I still wonder about you. I still wonder about what I would have done if I ran into you while walking through that neighbourhood (your place was not that far from my house). And I cannot let that memory slide. That sombrero gave you at least one intrigued viewer.

*

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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