The Old Man

Walking briskly down a street on the fringes of Sydney one early winter morning I noticed a dim light through the window of a rundown grocery store. Why I stopped I couldn’t say for sure except that I was fascinated by what I saw. There was an old man, perhaps in his eighties sitting ghostly still in his chair as he stared far away into space. Why he wasn’t in bed this early morning was anyone’s guess? I wondered why he fascinated me. He looked like my Pappous and perhaps that’s why I was drawn.
But this guy had me hooked. Why was he sitting in this store that looked like something from the 1970’s? A store that had stopped in time. The old iced Vo Vo biscuits and boxes of bushels tea covered in dust decades old, on a shelf likely assembled by him back in the day when he was somebody.
Why I knocked on the window is beyond telling but I was compelled to know why he sat alone in the dark by his dim lamp. I knocked louder and still he wouldn’t stir. Suddenly his head turns and I almost jump out of my skin in utter fear.
‘What do you want? The store is closed.’ He shouted with strength I thought he didn’t have.
I couldn’t speak. What on earth was I doing? Why was I bothering this poor old man?
‘Are you ok?’ I wanted to know.
‘Leave me in peace, nothing wrong.’ He mumbled looking away.
‘Ok then, I was worried about you but I can see you’re fine.’ I apologized in absolute shame. I stood for a minute watching and wondering if he would say anything more, but he just stared ahead like he was someplace else.
Each week I passed his shop on my way to work and nothing changed. He’d sit in deathly silence staring into space. Months past and nothing changed, what was this man’s story? I wanted to know. Short of stalking him I could never know.
One morning six months later I panicked as I noticed flashing lights outside his store. Filled with dread I could see the old lifeless body being carted away on a stretcher towards the ambulance. I ran like never before towards the paramedic to see what had happened. Nothing for me to know, I’m not a relative.
I stood alone on the street as the van drove him away. He was gone, dead. No family to cry over him. All alone he was and I would never know why.