Thursday, July 23, 2020

It takes me a couple of days to be certain that the bench with the Give-and-Take box is gone. I keep walking by where it had been, not realizing that it’s missing until I get a few blocks past it. I’m not entirely sure where it had been. It was on one of a set of three almost-identical blocks. Now, I look carefully as I pass. I recall that it had been on a stretch of pavement that wasn’t curved. That narrows it down. I find the spot. There’s no sign that it was ever there. I’m pretty sure that the bench had been bolted into the bricks. None of the bricks there appear to have been repaired or replaced. I don’t know how they did that. I think some people last week ruined the spot for everyone else. First, several bags-full of clothing appeared at once, piled up on the bench and covering the sidewalk around it. A few days later, it was covered with sheer junk, mostly cardboard boxes, either flattened or just tossed there intact, and torn-up magazines. I don’t know who was responsible for the bench. It may have been the city or the people in the neighborhood. Perhaps the person that the residents of the nearest apartment building had elected to be in charge of its grounds had had enough. Now the bench is gone. I’ll miss it. So, I suspect, will the thin man that I would often see on the bench, smoking and reading, when I would pass it in the evening. Perhaps he’ll sit on the low uneven wall behind where it had been. If he falls, maybe the city, the neighbors’ representative, or all the king’s horses and all the king’s men will show up again to change things.