I met William on the city bus coming back from Key West. He boarded the bus carrying an old-fashioned round cooler and lurched to the back of the bus. Tall and skinny, he seemed only focused on sitting down before he fell down. I assumed he was drunk or deranged. He stared ahead with vacant eyes. I hoped he wasn't going to ask us for money.
P & I were giggling about a wedding we had just vicariously attended from Kelly's balcony - our favorite KW happy hour of margaritas and chicken wings. The wedding was our afternoon entertainment and now we were trying to figure out the bus schedule back to Marathon. William came to our rescue. Slurring his words, he told us where and when to meet the next bus, then he exited our bus before our stop. We dubiously followed his instructions, and he was right on the money.
To our surprise, when we boarded our next bus, there was William waving at us from the back. He had stopped to have a quick visit with his daughter who worked at the KW Sears store. When P & I got settled in our seats, William and his cooler stumbled to a seat next to us, like we were old friends. His friendliness surprised me, but didn't scare me. I was used to inebriated banter in the public place of the Keys. I began to ask questions and he told me his story. Yes, he had always lived in the Keys. Yes, the hurricanes frightened him, but he had learned to prepare for them. He told me about the storm of '62 when his parents sent him to stay with relatives (perhaps he's not as old as I had guessed!). His dad, a shrimpboat captain died during that storm - his boat and body were never found. William had been a fisherman too, until a grappling hook flew across the deck and embedded itself into his jaw, setting off years of infections and illnesses. He took my hand and let me feel the hollow in his jaw left by the hook.
Suddenly, he paused and apologized. He said, "I had lunch with my son down in Key West and I had two cocktails. I'm not a drinker, you see. My diabetes won't let me." And he stared at the water cooler wedged between his feet. I felt bad that I had judged him so quickly. And who was I to judge? Eager to continue our conversation, I asked him about snorkling spots and his eyes came alive. "I volunteer at Adventure Camp in Newfound Harbor, you know. We teach kids from all over the world about the ocean and the reefs and the wildlife. We teach them to snorkle and and to care for the coral and....there's a picture of me at the camp kissing a Hammerhead shark...I tell the kids, 'don't do that!'" I laughed and much too soon, he was balancing himself to his feet to get off the bus for his home on Big Pine Island. I shook his hand and thanked him for the history and geography lessons. I should have thanked him for much more.
P & I were giggling about a wedding we had just vicariously attended from Kelly's balcony - our favorite KW happy hour of margaritas and chicken wings. The wedding was our afternoon entertainment and now we were trying to figure out the bus schedule back to Marathon. William came to our rescue. Slurring his words, he told us where and when to meet the next bus, then he exited our bus before our stop. We dubiously followed his instructions, and he was right on the money.
To our surprise, when we boarded our next bus, there was William waving at us from the back. He had stopped to have a quick visit with his daughter who worked at the KW Sears store. When P & I got settled in our seats, William and his cooler stumbled to a seat next to us, like we were old friends. His friendliness surprised me, but didn't scare me. I was used to inebriated banter in the public place of the Keys. I began to ask questions and he told me his story. Yes, he had always lived in the Keys. Yes, the hurricanes frightened him, but he had learned to prepare for them. He told me about the storm of '62 when his parents sent him to stay with relatives (perhaps he's not as old as I had guessed!). His dad, a shrimpboat captain died during that storm - his boat and body were never found. William had been a fisherman too, until a grappling hook flew across the deck and embedded itself into his jaw, setting off years of infections and illnesses. He took my hand and let me feel the hollow in his jaw left by the hook.
Suddenly, he paused and apologized. He said, "I had lunch with my son down in Key West and I had two cocktails. I'm not a drinker, you see. My diabetes won't let me." And he stared at the water cooler wedged between his feet. I felt bad that I had judged him so quickly. And who was I to judge? Eager to continue our conversation, I asked him about snorkling spots and his eyes came alive. "I volunteer at Adventure Camp in Newfound Harbor, you know. We teach kids from all over the world about the ocean and the reefs and the wildlife. We teach them to snorkle and and to care for the coral and....there's a picture of me at the camp kissing a Hammerhead shark...I tell the kids, 'don't do that!'" I laughed and much too soon, he was balancing himself to his feet to get off the bus for his home on Big Pine Island. I shook his hand and thanked him for the history and geography lessons. I should have thanked him for much more.
Our view of the wedding reception from the happy hour balcony at Kelly's.
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