Tom

Tom disappeared.

We used to sell together
At the Chelsea Flea Market.

We’d arrive in Manhattan at like
3:30 - 4:00 in the morning
Set up and be ready to sell
To our regulars an hour later.

We both had a good eye for the unusual
And knew how to display it for top dollar.

We sold the desirable
To the tough New York crowd
Spinning a yarn or two...

Oh, we had stories...

We were both artists.

Between our two personalities
We didn’t get beat up too bad.

We were respected
And we delivered the goods.

We’d sit in the sun
Drinking coffee
Smoking pot and cigarettes
Making breakfast on a little Coleman
In the back of the van
Haggling with dealers
Working the pretty girls over strong
One-upping each other
Like chess moves.

I won forever
When I sold Gina Gershon
Some framed vintage photos of naked women
For her bathroom.

"Dude! Do you know who that was?"
He asked.

"Nah,"
I replied.
"But she was fucking beautiful."

And then Tom just up and disappeared.

I didn’t see him at any of the other markets
That we frequented.
He didn’t answer my phone calls.
He became a ghost.

I even forgot about him.

Then today
I hit the flea market down the road from me
And there he was...
Pick-up backed up to his table
Thin cigar hanging out of his mouth.

A little rough
But still good looking.

“Hey amigo!”
I bounced.

“Yo T!”
He answered me smiling.

“Where the hell have you been?”
I asked.

“Got in a little trouble,”
He said.
“You know me, I’m always causing trouble.”

He kept smiling warmly
Cigar clenched in his teeth
Like Clint Eastwood.

He gazed at me
Full contact.

He still had a good eye
I noticed
As I scanned his table.

“I took off for Cali for a few years. I went back and forth from Southern Cali to Mexico.”
“I got into some trouble yo.”

I could read stories upon stories in his eyes
Even though he wasn’t forthcoming
About what kind of ‘trouble’
He got into.

“I just crashed at some friend’s places and did some crazy shit.”

"Then I moved back here and bought a houseboat down on the Chesapeake.”

“They’re trying to run me out down there too ‘cause I was fucking the mayor’s daughter!”

“I love that boat man! Any chicks I bring on there...I tell them if they’re still there in the
morning when I wake up, I’m gonna crack them right on the jaw!”

I haven’t seen Tom in many years.

Within ten minutes
He’s got me.

I stand there and listen to his tales
As he one-ups me big time.

I gave him props
As we hit knuckles.

“It’s great seeing you again. I thought you were dead.”
I said.

“Shit! Not me homie! I’m living!”

Of everything that he had told me
I took that away as truth.