I don't mean for that to sound in any way negative. Marvin could lift several times his own weight, as he often reminded me, but that didn't mean much when it came to pushing the lawnmower, painting the house, or washing the car. Those things were my responsibility. Marvin kept me company, and that was more than enough.
Now that time has passed I have a greater sense of perspective, and I see that six months living alone wasn't really that long. At the time, however, it seemed like eternity.
After Jill moved out, I adapted quite poorly to my newly regained bachelorhood. I had difficulty being alone. The house felt empty. All those things I would have happily done, had she not been around to impede me, seemed to have vanished along with Jill and her possessions. I should have made a note of everything I felt unable to do back when I still felt unable to do it, because with all my life before me and all my free time to be planned and unplanned as I saw fit, I couldn't think of a thing to do. I didn't know where to start. I was bored. I couldn't stand being home alone. Yet most of the time, I didn't want to leave the house.
Being together was hurting us both, yet now that she was gone I couldn't remember how to live without her.
By the time I crushed - sorry, found - Marvin under the night stand, I was as pretty much the mess that Jill made me out to be. After Marvin's arrival, things somehow seemed to run more smoothly and I found a direction again. But for all the time that had passed since then, the ghosts of my time with Jill still drifted through the house from time to time.
Marvin swung lazily from the ceiling lamp. He let out a few feet of thread, letting himself fall toward the living room floor, then pulled himself back up, collecting the thread as he went. Then he dropped down further, stopped, swung in the air currents, and starting climbing back up again. He did this for an hour or so, biding his time and waiting for Phil to get dressed.
Eventually Phil came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of baggy pants and a dress shirt.
"Where are you going all dressed up?"
"I'm not going anywhere. We're going for a walk."
"A walk! Yippie! Where?"
"Just around the neighborhood. Come on."
Marvin could hardly contain himself. He pulled himself up the thread until he was a foot or so above Phil's head, and jumped. He missed the crown of Phil's head by a fair margin and instead landed on his forehead. He lost his footing and began to slip.
Marvin had to grasp Phil's left eyebrow to keep from sliding all the way down his face and onto the floor. Phil closed his right eye so as to better focus with the left.
"Are you having fun?"
"You don't expect me to say 'no,' do you?"
Having regained his equilibrium, Marvin climbed back up Phil's forehead and found a place to stand on the top of Phil's head about an inch in front of the coronal suture. Phil wasn't bald, but his hair had receded enough for Marvin to be able to stand unhindered an inch or two behind where a younger man's hairline would be. This fairly level landscape was perfect for Marvin, as it kept him away from the slope of Phil's forehead. It was like standing at the top of a rolling hill, although the texture was a bit fleshier.
Phil grabbed a light jacket and a moment later they were out the door.
"Ready?" Phil asked.
"Ready," answered Marvin.
"Where would you like to go?" Phil rolled his eyes upward as he said this. He couldn't see Marvin. Nevertheless, he knew he was there because whenever Marvin spoke Phil could feel a ticklish vibration. He had to remind himself not to scratch it.
"Uhm, let's see.... I'd love to go around the block."
"Okay. I can do that. Let's go around the block."
Phil started down the street. As he walked, he told Marvin about the neighbors and pointed out landmarks that he thought Marvin might appreciate. Marvin tried to follow everything that Phil told him, and he learned a lot on this trip.
He learned that the next-door neighbors were named the Goodwins and that their dog's name was Ralph and that Ralph liked to dig holes by the fence that separated their yards and that although this annoyed Phil he didn't want to say anything because the Goodwins were old and basically good people and he felt guilty bothering them with complaints about their dog.
Every house had a front yard, and every yard had a tree. Some even had two or three.
Phil told Marvin about the family that lived across the street who had a kid who used to invite other kids in the neighborhood over to play but then asked them for money to play with his toys. Marvin was astounded.
"Did the other kids pay?"
"Of course. He was only asking for fifty cents. Then some parents found out and the word spread around the neighborhood and now the other parents don't let their kids play at his house anymore."
A little further down the street Phil pointed out a path along a tall row of hedges that served as a barrier between two front yards. He explained that he used to follow that path back behind the houses where a strip of forest had been preserved and where he sometimes went on nature walks. He had seen a huge spider in a web between two trees there. Marvin asked if Phil thought it was still there. Phil explained that that had been years ago.
They passed a house on the left where Phil pointed to a pair of trees. One had crabapples in the late summer, and the other had purple plums. Phil used to stop and talk with the woman who lived there and she always offered him some fruit. She was a widow. Marvin could just make out a dark, stuffy looking living room through the sheers that covered the front bay window.
They walked to the end of the road, and Phil turned left. He pointed out a tree where he had found Mrs. Brown's son one day. Phil had spotted him on his afternoon stroll and he had stopped to ask him what he was doing there. The boy explained that he had run away from home. Phil climbed up and sat in the tree with him for an hour until the boy's grandmother came hobbling down the street looking for him. Marvin asked him why the boy had run away from home.
"I really don't remember, but I know he was very upset."
"Why did he stop here? Why didn't he run away further?"
"He wasn't allowed to go past the end of the block. He thought he might get in trouble."
"Oh." Marvin thought about this.
They rounded the block, heading back up the street behind Phil's house, where the back yards of the houses - on one side of the street anyway - met his own back yard and the back yards of his neighbors. Phil was quiet.
"No stories for this block?"
"No. I've lived here for ten years and I never did get to know the people on this block. I never gave it much thought, and I never had any reason to come down this street."
"Sounds like you had a lot of excitement on your own street."
"Excitement." Yeah, I guess so. Yes, it's been sort of exciting."
Marvin wished he could see Phil's face. Something in his voice sounded almost melancholy.
"Are you okay, Phil?"
"Yes. Just thinking."
"About what?"
"About moving." Phil looked down at his feet as he said this, and Marvin felt the shift.
"Oh. Okay."
Something in Phil's tone stopped Marvin from asking any more questions. He had just gotten to know Phil and the house. Phil's wanting to move from here had never crossed his mind. Why would he want to leave this wonderful place?
Phil spoke again as they turned the corner to head back down Phil's street.
"Let's head home."
"Okay."
"Did you like the walk?"
"Oh, absolutely. I loved it. Can we do it again soon?"
"Sure. Let's go sit on the back porch for awhile. It's a nice day and I'd like to do some reading."
They returned to the house. Phil grabbed his book and headed out to the back deck. Marvin jumped down to Phil's shoulder and then down to the table.
"You can hang out on the table, or explore the back yard, or whatever. I'll be sitting right here. Would you like a lemonade?" Phil settled into a lounge chair and opened his book.
Marvin wasn't sure what to think. Phil seemed fine, but he had made that comment about moving. Marvin tried to keep the conversation light.
"Don't worry about me," Marvin said brightly. "I'll find something to do."
He wandered across the table until he reached the edge. He looked out on the back yard. He wondered how long he would have to explore all it still had to offer. Then he dropped over the side of the table, abseiling past the table top and finally lowering himself down through the endless space between him and the ground.
