Chino and Chambray

Chino and Chambray Forty years older than I, Charles, in his tweed cap, stands starched in gray chino and blue chambray. For more than a year his broad tie has let the same iridescent duck fly against a vermillion sky. Like a Vatican Guard he oversees the parking lot I cut through each morning far corner to far corner as I cleave two triangles of cars parked in my wake. I ask him one morning, “Charles, do you mind when I cut through your lot?” “Not at all, sir,” says Charles as he stares straight ahead and starts the windmill of his good arm to lead the pearl Hummer now pulling in. Donal Mahoney