Free Chicago by Brian Doyle Page B

guy across from me who’d invented children’s propeller hats, and when I added up residents I realized the guy who had been a sailor but not in the Navy was missing. I knew he was a resident—I saw him occasionally getting his mail from the lobby, and he got a lot of mail, more than anyone except Miss Elminides—but according to my chart he didn’t have an apartment.
    I went over the chart again. Fourth floor: Edward and Mr Pawlowsky, little Azad and his family, the two young women from Arkansas, Ovious and his mom, Mrs Manfredi, and the Armenian librettist. Third floor: Miss Elminides in the bay apartment, the two hermit brothers in 3E and 3D, the four businessmen in apartments 3A and 3B, and the apartment in which Eugenia the movie actress had lived. Second floor: the inventor in 2A, the Scottish tailor and the detective together in 2B, old Mr McGinty in 2C closest to the back door, the man who had once raised cheetahs in 2D, the Trinidadian cricket player in 2E, and me in apartment 2F with the big windows over the street. No sailor.
    I asked Edward about this and he stared at me with the oddest combination of emotions on his long face—something like guilt and sadness and hesitation all at once—and then he led me upstairs to the roof, where Mr Pawlowsky was sweeping snow toward the drainpipes. Mr Pawlowsky looked at Edward and then at me and then said, “Well, we trust you to keep the matter private. The man lives in the basement, in two of the stalls. We fixed up a sort of cabin for him exactly like a bunk on a ship. He uses the Young Men’s Christian Association in winter and the lake in summer for bathing. The YMCA was started in America by a sea captain, you know, and they keep an eye out for sailors down on their luck. He has some problems. Miss Elminides knows but no one else does. Now you know, but we trust you to keep it confidential. He’s not in a position to pay rent and his accommodation is not quite up to city code but he’s a gentle guy and there’s never been a problem. Miss Elminides is of the opinion that healing will come and he will someday make up what he owes. That would be great if it happens but if it doesn’t happen sometimes you just do what needs to be done. It’s probably best if you just leave him alone. He’s friendly enough and he says hey if you see him getting his mail but other than that probably it’s best just to leave him be. He’s quite handy with tools and sometimes he helps me when there’s a lot of repair work to be done. He’s a very fine carpenter. I would guess that he has many fascinating stories and I can see you would love to listen to him but Edward has suggested and I agree that perhaps it would be best for now to just say hey in the lobby and otherwise leave him be. I can trust you in this matter, I’m sure. Are you as cold as me? Because I am absolutely freezing, and Edward can finish the sweeping later. Let’s go get some hot tea and think about the White Sox. Pitchers and catchers report to training camp next week, and this year by golly they are going to have a decent team. Bill Veeck bought them a couple years ago and when old Bill is involved with a team you are sure to see some wild and wonderful things. I think they might have the best outfield in the league this year and old Wilbur Wood on the mound throwing that silly knuckleball is going to be entertaining and then some. They’ll have a game where they score eighteen runs and a game where they give up eighteen runs, mark my words. Maybe it will be the same game, which would not surprise me. Nothing about the Sox surprises me. This will be fun. You’ll see.”

 
    9.
    THE MATTER OF EDWARD’S age began to absorb me greatly as February wore on, and one clear night on the roof, as we were looking for the constellations Auriga (the charioteer) and Columba (the dove), Mr Pawlowsky pointed out Canis, the great dog, with