Trajectory

Thomas Diaz lops palm fronds for a living when he isn’t selling five dollar bills for a buck up at the Mount Baldy swap-meet.

It is a matter of placement. The fronds and where they fall to the ground at. Thomas generally establishes a tidy perimeter at the base of each palm he is slung from. Gravity does most the work for him. I guess he put one through the rear window of a Volvo wagon the other day. She was backing out the drive-way. Thomas said the timing was like one in a million, and that she pretty much freaked right there in the middle of the street in her robe.
She said she was just running to the store, and now this.
Thomas said by the time he climbed down from the tree, traffic was backed up for a half block. Said he calmed her down and had her pull the wagon back up the drive.

So what Thomas told me is that he pulls the frond from the rear of the Volvo and uses his shop-vac to get all the glass shards. He cleans things up and the gal calms down some. He said she appeared pleasant for some time. And they exchanged insurance cards. And then he asked her about breakfast. Would she like to join him for breakfast. For you know, and how for.

Well so anyway, Thomas said the gal seemed hip to the whole breakfast idea, and that she ran back inside the house to change.
He put his shop-vac, and the rest of the palm fronds into the truck.
Thomas said she came out of the house wearing a yellow splotched sundress, and green high-top sneakers. Vibrant he said. And that they had rattled towards to the Fork-n-Spoon in his truck, with the windows down.

Thomas said the truck ran out of gas on the downhill side and he coasted into the Safeway parking lot. Said they just sat there. In the parking lot. She put her foot up on the dash of his truck and they talked. He said they spoke of things like destiny, and fate, and that whole other thing. The neutrino thing. And there was the impact. The shattering in an instant. He said she said it would be sad if it were all just random. He told her he respected gravity.
She said the color blue was difficult for her to deal with.
He said he may have left his saw on your porch.
She said she was crashing there. For a few nights. It was an empty house. She sold real-estate. Not her porch.
He said he still couldn’t believe the timing.
She said if she had stopped to feed the cat, they would not be having this conversation in the parking lot.
He said he kept a 2 gallon jug in the back.
She said the milk was for her coffee. Instant.
He said did she need anything from the store, since we were there.
She said she carried her own shower curtain, folded.
He said he wintered on the Gulf. From the back of the truck.
She said she should have stuck with piano.
He said he could cover the opening with plastic.
She said she misses Portland, and Sushi Ichiban.
He said he considers things. Things that make sense.
She said her left front tire has a slow leak.
He said all the sand made sense to the ocean.
She said she always feeds her cat before coffee.
He said you see things from up there. Perspective Thomas said.
She said she needed to do laundry.
He said she had a cat?
She said she would buy the wine.
He said that would be fine.

So but anyhow that was last I spoke with Thomas. He hasn’t been into the Fork-n-Spoon the past while, but the girls tell me his truck has been sitting in the drive behind the Volvo with the plastic over the rear window. I scramble the eggs and butter toast. Well… Gretchen butters the toast. But I do all the potatoes. We have a good operation. Gretchen says maybe he’ll come in for coffee soon. I say maybe they will. They just might.

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