Edgar

He wore a white t-shirt and headphones on his head. There was a characteristic way that he moved, how he held his shoulders or how he swung his arms or maybe something in his stride, but there was something about that guy that made me think I'd seen him before.

As we passed each other, me running west, him running east, our eyes briefly met, and there was a momentary flash of recognition that briefly surfaced and then disappeared. Both of us thought we'd seen the other before, but neither of us was sure.

A week or so later I saw him again. I was stretching under the bridge were the runners gather, and he came up in a white t-shirt with headphones on his head. He came to a stop at the drinking fountain, walked back and forth a bit, and then walked off to the parking lot.

I was sure that I'd seen him before, but certainly it couldn't be him. Certainly it couldn't be that guy who used to run around the track in Clear Lake in a white t-shirt with headphones on his head and a unique swagger in his run. Certainly not. Could it?

He had crossed the street. Trudy and I got up to go. As she took out her keys to get in her car, I told her, I think I know that guy. And I walked after him.

By the time I reached him, he was behind the wheel and had started his car. I knocked on the window, trying not to startle him. He looked over at me and smiled and laughed and got out of his car.

Did you used to live in Clear Lake? I asked.

Yes! he said.

I'm David. I think we've met at the Clear Lake High School track.

Yes! he said. I'm Edgar. It's good to see you again.

Whatta ya know.

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