You often see him when you enter the local grocery shop. Chatting with the employees, or searching the rubbish bin. Your arrival arrests his attention. His eyes meet yours, in a curious, a bit insistent, way. You say hallo, and he nods back with a small smile of recognition. If you stop, he will start to chat. That’s why you lower your glance, and hurry on into the shop.
They call him “Skipper’n” like in Popeye. He wears a cap, just like old sailors do. His chin is sharp, he has a large protrusion which gives his mouth a squeezed look.
In summer, if it’s hot, stripped to the waist, you see him in the village centre. Wearing too small shorts, white tennis socks, moccasins – and his cap. His skin is dry and wrinkled, old, much older than his small, curious eyes. You can smell his body’s odour at a radius of 3 meters.
On early summer mornings I can see him from my bedroom window, walking along E6, searching for bottles. That’s what “Skipper’n” always does, search for bottles he can collect the deposit for, in rubbish bins and in ditches. Weather or season doesn’t matter.
Why? I don’t know, I’ve never asked him. I avoid his chats, like most of us do. Why? I don’t know.
In respons to "Uncle Ernest"
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3 comments:
I really liked your text. It reminded me of a man in my own hometown when I was a child.
In my thoughts I see this man collecting bottles from rubbish bins, - talking to himself.
Who else were there to talk to?
I wonder what was his story......
I think we all have seen a person like "Skipper'n", but we are afraid of contacting people like him. But sure they will appreciate a kind word or a smile!
Well done!!
I really liked your text. I have thaught of this story now and then and since we live not far from you, I have been looking for him.
One sunday morning lately, my husband and I were driving on E6. Then I suddenly discovered a man who looked like a sailor, picking up bottles from the edge of the ditch. There he was!
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