Mister Johnson

In my apartment complex I've  come to know one neighbor very well. Mister Johnson is the man who feeds my cat lunch.

When I moved into the East Side apartment complex two years ago I was lost. I had just started my new internship at the law office downtown and decided to move  out of my mother's house at last. Two years ago the East Side apartment complex was wet, shabby, damp, and in a bad part of town. But my safety was worth a can of pepper spray and a pink taser.

But never once did I have to use it. All my neighbors were kind and for the most part very elderly.

The manager of the complex wasn't supposed to let you have pets, she made a special exception for my handsome face. Taffy the tabby and I were thoroughly freaked out. Not only because almost everyone in the building was super old and could die at any minute, but also because we were pretty sure the Russian mafia was going to come-a- knocking.

All Suspicions aside, all the old people were nice. They all became my surrogate grandparents. As you can imagine I was invited over for many home cooked dinners. One with Alma and her mentally disabled son Mason, and every Tuesday was lunch with Nana Patterson and the poker group.

"Who's the lucky lady, Robbie?", asked Nana one Tuesday. "What?", "Yes! A nice young man like you most have some sweet little thing on the side.", she said. "Nana, I don't have a girlfriend.", "Well, why not?", "I guess I'm too busy. With school and work...", " And all that late night clubbing you young people do.", "...I don't think I'd be able to have a girlfriend and keep her happy
". And that was that.

When you live in a small apartment complex you might notice word gets around fast. So, now everyone knew me as the unhappy girlfriend-less young kid who lives on floor 3.  Fine by me.

One day I got a call from my mom. She told me my little brother had been in a car accident and was in a bad way. So being the good big brother I am,  I started packing up right away. All the while Taffy watched me with this sad look on his face. Was it because he knew my brother Jim had given Taffy to me for my 21st birthday, and he might be in a life threatening condition? Or because he knew I wasn't going to be around to feed him? I did not know. All I knew was my bro-bro needed me and I needed someone to feed Taffy. Not knowing who else to turn to, I ran down the hall and asked Mister Johnson. He was the only person I had not taken the time to get to know properly. I fully meant to, but I didn't have time.

"Mister Johnson! Hello?..", he opened the door almost right away. "Whats wrong, son?", " I have a family thing going on and I am going to be out of town for a few days and....", by this time I most have looked totally deranged. The old man was staring at me with a horribly worried look on his kind face. "...I was wondering if you would feed my cat for me?", " Of course. Do you have a spare key? And cat food?", " Yeah.".

Thank god for his complete understanding and cooperation.  After I showed him where the food and litter box was, he sent me on my way. I throw my bags in the car and drove off. I got to my Mom's house at around 3 in the morning. It turns out he had only broken his arm. Jim has always been a cry baby, but I love him. I stayed with him for a least 5 days before going home. I was worried about Taffy and Mister Johnson.

When I got home, I found no sign of Taffy. I Knocked on mister Johnson's door. "Hey, sonny.", " Hi, Mister Johnson. Do you know where Taffy is? I got back and couldn't find him.", " Yes. I moved him in with me. He got very upset after you left. I didn't want to leave a suicidal cat in a big apartment all alone. I hope you're not mad." How could I be mad at him? I was glad he was worried about my cat's mental health. "Not at all.", "Okay, lets move him back in with you.", " Sounds great."

After we got Taffy settled in, we had a beer. This evening beer routine went on for 6 months thereafter. We talked about everything, family, friends, food, jobs, religion, government, and getting old.

One night around 11 Mister Johnson put down his beer. "How long have we been friends, Rob?", he asked me, "Oh, I don't know, about 7 months now.", " And what have we talked about?", " Almost everything, I think.", " Almost. You know, Robbie, you remind me of myself when I was your age. I just want to know how much alike we really are. So tell me, Robbie, why don't you have a girlfriend? I want a real answer. Not the one you gave Netty Patterson and the girls."

What could I say? I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to tell my best friend I was gay. What if he hated me after that? We hadn't talked about gays yet. Not at all. I didn't know what he was going to say, but I couldn't lie to him.

"Well, Mister Johnson, I don't have a girlfriend because I am gay.", "I thought as much. I knew we had something on common. ", "I......What? Are you gay, Mister Johnson?", " Ain't that what I just said? Haven't you ever wondered why I don't have a wife? Or kids around?", he said. He was telling the truth. "Yeah. But I just figured your family had passed on. Out lived you or something. I didn't think you were gay."

Now that I think about it, I had never seen him with family.
"You wouldn't have thought. I am pretty good at hiding it by now. I did have a wife once. And a kid.", " What happened to them?", " Benny and I had been married for a year when she got pregnant. She was only 6 months along when she had to give birth to the baby. His name was Allen, he lived for three days after being born. We never left his side. After the funeral I hold Benny I was gay. She told me she had known the whole time. And she still loved me. Not so much like a husband but more like a best friend. I wanted a kid just as much she did, and we had one for three beautiful days. A year later we got a divorce. She died last year in June. I was with her when she passed, she told me to find someone who makes  me happy. And I did. I found you, Robbie. You are the son I never got to have or hold."

I couldn't help it. I cried. Hard. I had a hard time stopping with 3 beers in me already. It took a while before I could talk.

"I grew up without a dad. You are the dad I never had, Mister Johnson. I am glad I asked you to feed my cat."

It felt good. The whole thing was awesome. Mister Johnson got a son and I got a dad. I guess homosexuality runs in the family.

I work a lot now, I am gone from 11am till 10pm and I can't be home to feed Taffy. Now Mister Johnson feeds him. Not only that, but he got to keep Taffy for his very own. I am glad I moved here. Now mom and Jim come down to visit Mister Johnson and I all the time. I wish I had more to say, But that is all.

Mister Johnson is the man who feeds my cat lunch.

By Lockley H Crisman.

Thanks for reading. Could I have done better? I probably could have. Anyway, tell me what y'all think!