Friday, January 2, 2009
My good friend, Robert Pertham was rather restless. His looks defined the quintessential uneasy person. Not that he was uneasy to talk with or have at a party, he was just very restless. He was a small chubby man, with oodles of energy. In fact, I remember the day when Robert, I and some other friends had gone on a hiking trip. Towards the end of the trip, we could barely walk. Our strength was flagging. It was in these occasions that Robert would walk ahead of all of us, sing boisterously, and goad us on to the end. It was perhaps for this quality that almost everyone loved him and I hated him. He would make himself available on every occasion. It was like he was omnipresent. How he managed to do this was a mystery. His wife had left him with the kids a long time back. She said that she just couldn't stand him shuffling around any more. Poor lady, I sympathize with her. He was quite a lovable person if you could ignore his constant darting eyes. The way he bit his nails. The 'Tap tap' noise he made with his feet. In any case, he was a good man but a rather restless one.
I refer to Robert in the past tense for a reason. It is because I killed him today. It wasn't a premeditated act. It just happened. I had replayed his death in a million different ways in my head, but in that moment, I knew what had to be done. He is gone now. Gone for good. Maybe the next time you eat a beef steak, you might get to meet him. Bon Apetit.