Toro: the Neighborhood Friendly Boy

That’s how Bill introduced you to me, as the neighborhood friendly boy, the beach boy, the best boy.  You were all those things.  You died on Wednesday, it was awful.   Nat found you and he covered you with your blanket.  You waited until everyone was gone and then you left too.  Bill called me on his way home from work, he sounded okay then, I cried like a baby.  He said I could come over for a small ceremony, but I had to keep it together.  I thought he was serious.  I had to wash my face twice and put on makeup just to look remotely composed.  When I got to your house it was dark.  I brought dinner and Jameson and found that I was already two shots behind.  There is something so unnerving, so endearing, and so horrible about seeing grown men cry, even if they are young men.  It means something horrible really has happened.  Then your Papa came home.  Nat had called him at work and he’d rushed to get to you.  We picked a spot and dug your grave together, on the side of the Squire.  Originally, Papa Dave was going to put you in his Mom’s backyard, but we didn’t want you stuck with a pack of ferrel chihuahuas for eternity.  Your Pap carried you outside and everyone said something, you’re buried with Bill’s blanket, my scarf and a rock.  Yesterday your boys put rocks over your spot and Bill even tossed one in the ocean for you.  He’s really sad.  You know he’s a stoic, but he loved you so much, he cried as much as I did- that’s a lot.  At least I can get away from it, the truth, they can’t.  They walk around the Squire and everything reminds them of you.  We’re watching out for your Pap, making sure he’s okay in your absence.  We miss you boy and we’ll love you always.