Beautiful moments

Adrian bounded up the stairs. As he rounded the second floor he stepped smack into the middle of a bucket of water, sinking his shoe and sock in the soapy water.

The bucket belonged to Willie Brown, who stood there large and looming like a giant with a mop in his hand. Adrian braced himself for the wrath to come, at worst to be whacked down the steps by the mop or at best to be cussed out for three straight minutes. He let out a long, slow breath when he saw that the bucket and mop belonged to Willie, the one everybody called Oak Tree Willie, or just OT for short.

Willie Brown looked like an oak tree. He was tall and strong. Even though he was somewhere in his sixties, his legs still looked like large, round tree trunks and his arms like big, bulky branches. His skin was dark, mahogany brown, much like the color of an oak tree itself. The most noticeable thing about him was his eyes, which were a deep well of questions and answers, wisdom and joy. They were the color of the sap that comes from tapping the trunk of an oak tree, and contained a hint of hardness.

He was the janitor of the building, humbly working every day, sweeping and scrubbing the floor, washing and wiping the walls, fixing electrical and plumbing problems in people’s apartments. Actually, he had an impossible task, trying to keep a 40 year old high rise clean and functioning, trying to pick up after people who no longer cared about the building or themselves. At that moment, he was mopping up dark red spots from the past nights beating or stabbing or shooting, any one of which could have been it’s cause.

His life was like his work. In his work he struggled to brighten a dark place, clean dirty halls, bring life to a dying building.

He lived in the building. He was the physical manifestation of the good people living in the building, the people who gave what little they had to help their neighbors who had even less than them, the people who offered their already crowded rooms to one more person in need of a place to stay, the people who were the salt and light of the building, but who were forced by their surroundings to stay inside. OT had to be outside. 

It seemed that his presence, his presence alone, kept the building from swallowing itself into nothingness, from being swallowed by nothingness.

- Damn, little brother, where you goin’ in such a hurry? Here now, let me he’p you get your foot out my bucket. It’s best to keep a low profile ‘round here and that’s hard to do when you’re bangin’ and clangin’ a bucket up the stairs.

- Oh, OT. Am I glad it’s you. I got some good news! I’m gonna tell momma right now. I can’t wait to get across town to tell nana.

- We can always use some good news ‘round here. Let me have it.

- Every year my school gives a citizenship award and a $500.00 scholarship for college to a fifth grader. This year they gave it to me! Look, here’s the medal they gave me!

- My, my, my. Your family’s gonna be so proud of you. I’m proud of you!

- Thanks! I’ll see you around, okay?

- See you around, little brother. Take care of yourself. And take care of your nana, too.

The last sentence barely reached Adrian’s ears, getting lost in the hollow case of the stairway.