Yesterday afternoon, on the street:

Husband’s former schoolmate: “How am I? I’d like to get even. I liked to get even with you and [name of schoolmate] and [name of schoolmate] and [name of schoolmate].” [Pauses to spit at the ground beside husband’s feet.]

Husband: “Ok, I have to leave.”

Husband’s former schoolmate: “Oh you’ll leave. Probably for eternity.”

//

A while ago GK, the aforementioned former schoolmate, stopped taking his meds. Once a mild-seeming fellow, now he darts around town in his running gear, glaring at people and dropping creepy comments. Once he said to CM, apropos to nothing, “You know what I’d like? I would like to see someone I know bleed out.” Another time he asked the husband, rocking on his heels, “Does your wife still walk out the greenway with the dog?” (Consequently I have taken to glancing over my shoulder while walking at night.)

The husband reported yesterday’s incident to the guards. As we left the garda station, we saw GK standing directly across the road, staring at us. We had to get a lift from a guard, rather than walk home, less than one minute away. God! So much for a tranquil Sunday.

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