He always wears a silver, vinyl-looking running suit. The kind that you used to see on infomercials touting incredible weight-loss in 3 days if you wear the super suit because it makes you sweat like a post-partum mom dealing with hot flashes.
I see him every day at the same time, as I walk Five to school. Man in silver is underneath the monkey bars doing pull ups almost obsessively. He's working out. The playground is his personal gym.
He lives in a pale blue beat up VW stationwagon. From the 70's. It's filled with his life. So much so that nothing is descerinable. The car is always parked in the lot when he's doing his pull ups on the monkey bars.
I've never seen him up close. It's always at a distance of at least 75 feet. He wears a black beanie, a "robber's cap." His hands are sometimes taped. He has black high-top work boots on his feet. His hair looks as if it's graying, shiny, like his running suit. I imagine he's in his fifties, perhaps older. From a distance, his skin looks weathered and old from the sun.
I walked Five to school today. I saw him over by the jungle gym getting ready to go across the monkey bars. I almost didn't recognize him. He was in black shorts and a white t-shirt. His hair peeked out under the black skull cap. And he still wore the black boots. I dropped Five off and walked back home. I slowed as I passed the playground and watched him from the corner of my eye. Where did his silver running suit go? I've seen him wear it in 90 degree weather. On the chilliest of winter days with a black coat over it. What's so different about today?
I walked and I watched. He began shadowboxing on the wooden mulch. He turned and I caught a glimpse of his face. He looked so youthful. He looked different. Perhaps Spring brought him a fresh start.
Perhaps not. The life-filled, pale blue VW station wagon sits parked in the lot.
