Jack

Okay, that last comment was not rhetorical. Not at all. I didn't think it was odd when there was a large amount of old furniture and other household items on the curb next door two Fridays ago. When there was an even larger amount of stuff heaped up on the curb last Friday, I started wondering what was going on.

As people kept coming and going, it was beconing more and more apparent that something was wrong, and then our postman asked if Ben (who everyone called Jack) was dead. That's what you conclude when mail begins to be delivered "To the estate of" people, and not to the people themselves.

My first real interaction with Jack was shortly after I moved in, back in 1993. It was on Halloween, and all the kids who went over the my neighbor's house would let out a terrified shriek shortly after stepping up to the door. After a while, I had to find out myself what was going on.

The light was on over the door, with candy set out in a dish next to a large, ghoulish mannequin. There were other decorations in and around the bushes next to the door, and I kept my eye on the door as I stepped closer to see what was the big scare.

Then, of course, the mannequin moved. That was Jack.

He was a big guy, and I don't know exactly how old he was. In recent years he'd been retired, and I did noticed he'd lost a lot of weight. Only recently did he tell me about his bout with cancer, a struggle he finally lost, about a week ago. I feel bad that I hadn't noticed his absence earlier.

There was a limousine out front this morning - Zelda wanted to know why it concerned us so. I went out and spoke to the driver, who confirmed Jack was dead. Toni went out a little later to hug his grown daughters, to offer condolensces and our regrets while I sat in with Zelda and Orson.

Once I had received the news from the driver then, finally, I told Zelda. Toni and I had been speaking in code for the past two days, wondering whether to go over, or what to do. She took the infomration in stride, because I don't think she understands the larger ramifications of the news.

The past two summers there has been a lot of play between our house and Jack's. His youngest daughter, Alexandrea, who just turned eleven, spent a great deal of time with Zelda the past two summers. She lives with her mom in another part of town. I don't know what the fate of Jack's house is, or whether we will be seeing Alexandrea much anymore, if at all.

Then there is Jack's presence. I observed last year how this is Zelda's childhood, and when she grows up, Jack is always going to be in her memory as "that nice old man who lived next door." The guy with the crazy Halloween decorations - it seemed he owned every motion-activated gee-gaw you could find at Walgreen's. And at Easter there was always a GIANT blue bunny made out of duct tape, and a flamingo with bright, fake feathers, and his lawn was littered with plastic Easter eggs. Jack was Halloween and Easter to me. He made the neighborhood fun.

I'm going to miss him. And I wish I didn't have to talk so much about death.