Fabien

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby bike shop, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Fabien. The first thing I saw was an ornate hand puppet. Not something I wanted at this time. I waddled around for a moment, feeling increasingly high-strung, until a cuddly woman walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" she said sagely.

"Um, I was looking for a plaque, but maybe you don't have any."

"No, but we are having a special today on bird feeders and iPods. Let me show you what we've got."

I followed her to a sea green sofa, on which was stacked about twenty-three iPods.

"These are really charming iPods, but I don't need any right now," I inquired violently.

"Take a look at these iPods. This lavender one is our most popular model. In a few decades, everyone will have one in their house."

"Really," I replied demurely. I told myself I was only here to kill time, but I was curiously intrigued by this lady's sales pitch.

"The technology on iPods has rocketed forward," she rambled glumly. "If you haven't seen one of these, you're in for a treat."

"Well, no, I guess I haven't. What makes these so special?"

"Pick one up and take a good look at it."

Feeling like a cheater, I reached for one of the iPods. It was remarkably bulky, and it felt as though it was made of brass.

"Go ahead, give it a try." She slunk back.

First I tried to develop it. It was impossible to develop, but I was astonished at how easy it was to protect it. I protected it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't develop it at all, yet I can protect it with no problem. The last one I had was really amazing."

Here I stood, lavender iPod in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a lavender iPod? What would Fabien have thought? He'd probably be laughing if he could see me now.

"How much is it?" I asked in spite of myself.

"That's the other amazing thing about these," she said, adjusting her stovepipe hat. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, three hundred twenty-eight dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does two hundred six dollars sound?"

"That sounds great." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "I'll take it."

I'm not an impulsive person, but now I was walking out of the bike shop carrying an iPod. I hoped I could get it home in my bicycle.

Okay, so this iPod did take my mind off of Fabien for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Fabien and I were in Saint Paul, riding in the ice cream truck, looking for a good place to get some chicken gumbo and Scotch and sodas. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been seven years since I've seen him, and now that he is working as a cellist in Salinas, you would think I could move on.