Tuesday on Thursday...

When I arrived home from work Tuesday evening, one of my neighbors was playing his stereo loudly. As I checked the mailbox then climbed the stairs, it sounded exactly like it used to sound on many an evening as I returned. When he was in a certain mood, I would be able to hear Lionel blasting his music as soon as I hit the lobby door. Sometimes, he'd even be singing along in that impassioned, off-key way that he had.

But this music was coming from the neighbor opposite us. Ours is an old building, built in 1902 with thick walls and thicker floors. Inside our apartment, it remained still enough to hear the ticking clock, hissing radiator and cranky refrigerator. Maybe that's why I fabricated another errand that would take me back outside.

I ended up going out to the store, Filene's Basement, and staying until it closed. On the way home, I stopped by McDonald's. It was cold outside and the homeless and lonely were seeking refuge there, watching a television mounted high up on the wall. A couple of them nodded an acknowledgment to me in a way that made me realize word of Lionel's passing was beginning to filter around the neighborhood. I bought a sandwich I didn't really want. "That all?" asked the manager. He had probably never seen me buy just one sandwich. I smiled at the reminder of Lionel's phenomenal appetite. Then, unable to postpone the inevitable...I went home. Alone.