Old Man Johnny – A Short Story

One day I finally realized that I needed to lose some weight and get in shape. I got sick and tired of seeing people jog by my house with a big smile on their face and zero girth around their mid-sections. I decided I would walk along Ruston Way every day enjoying the beauty of Puget Sound and sitting down any time I wanted to experience the beauty of Mt. Rainier at my leisure. I walked down the street, around the curve, under the train trestle, across the road and looked for a place to sit down.

After half an hour of resting and bitching at myself, I got up and walked towards Old Tacoma. It was a gorgeous day for walking. I loved the lapping waters and the screeching birds. After lunch at the Lobster Shop I started walking again. About hundred yards later I stopped and enjoyed looking at the lapping waves and noticed a gurgle of water coming up through the sandy and rocky floor. I looked around and noticed the road leading under the tracks into the water works. There must be a pipe from the plant to the shore. Interesting.

I walked towards the plant. Although I’ve been living close by for years, I had never really taken a look at other points of interest. From the plant I turned left and walked down the road just enjoying myself. Soon I got into more hills than houses. I found many places offering views around briers and brambles. I was feeling chipper and happy with myself. I sat down on a large rock and opened up my lunch left-overs from the Lobster Shop. I munched through my lunch, relaxed, and just enjoyed nature. Some movement on the hill caught my eye. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. It looked like a shoe on a rope with the shoe almost kicking. Curious, I walked toward the movement.

As I got closer, I circled a bush and my mouth dropped. Upside down laid an older gentleman cussing to himself and trying to get the rope holding him off so he could stand upright. Still swearing the old man calmly said, “Please, cut the rope.” I responded, “Sorry no knife.” I bent down and untied his shoe as the man dropped a few more feet down the hill. “Thank you” the old man said. I nodded. Soon the old man and I were talking and laughing. Johnny explained how he had rented out his home to have some money. Johnny created a sort of hanging rope construction that gave him the ability to lay down on a steep slope, where people couldn’t see him and maintain himself. He deposited his money in the bank and lived on the hill where nobody ever bothered him or even saw him. He had been stuck upside down for several days with poop filled pants and urine dripping down his back. As he told me his story we laughed and had a great time.

I offered Johnny a room at my house, but he declined. He offered me his rope construction for the evening. I declined. By the end of the day we were fast friends. We decided to meet each Tuesday at the Lobster Shop for lunch. I would pay one week and he would pay the next week. Johnny had no living relatives. He left me his house when he died. I still rent it out. Each year I visit the bottom on the hill where we met and pee on the spot where Johnny buried his poop filled pants. I remember and smile.