Al looks out his wide storefront window, the final time he’ll be able to do so. His eyes see a recently paved street with bright white parking lines and a bright orange double-lined median. It’s early morning but the spots are quickly being taken up by BMW, Lexus, and Mercedes sedans, with a few Teslas here and there. The sidewalks are now level with new concrete. A patch of brickwork and high granite curbing separate the sidewalk from the street. Brick buildings ranging from two to five stories line each side of the street. Most of the buildings have been renovated over the last ten years. The neighborhood had been hidden from the gentrification that occurred in other sections of the city. Now it’s a rush for anyone with a $150,000 minimum annual income to move in, forcing lifetime residents like Al to leave.
What is Al seeing when he looks at the rejuvenated Taft Square? His past. Al has lived in the neighborhood for all seventy nine years of his life. He’s seen every Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day parade held in Taft Square. Attending these parades allowed him to honor his father who died fighting the Nazis in Vichy France. Al’s only happy memory of his father is going to The Diamond Spa across the street from where he is standing. The Spa was the breakfast and lunch joint for the neighborhood. Now it’s a trendy bar called The Diamond. His father was on leave before being shipped out to England to prepare for the Allies invasion of France.
Al’s Uncle Frank opened a hardware store a few years after the war, renting space across the street from the Diamond Spa, the same storefront where Al is currently standing. When Al’s uncle offered him an after-school job at the store, he was hesitant at first. His mother urged him to try it for a day. Al’s first hour working was spent sweeping the floors. He hated every minute of it. His uncle then told him to wash the windows, a task that Al thought he’d dread more than sweeping. As he stood on a rickety wooden ladder, Al began to wipe the top part of the windows with a cloth damp with the glass cleaning solution. As he wiped the windows, he noticed the Diamond Spa across the street.
A memory about the last meal with his father popped into the sixteen year old’s mind. He remembered both his mother and his father guided him into the diner. Al laughed to himself as he realized the first thing he did upon entering the Spa was seeing the red tiles that ran in a diagonal. He hopped on each red tile leading his parents to the stools at the counter. Al’s father then said, Albert has chosen our seats,
as he lifted him up onto the tall stool. Both his father and mother laughed. Al laughed too as he tried to spin the stool.
It had been quite a while since the teenager recalled that memory. It was one of a few Al had about his dad. Al felt overwhelmed with emotion. He didn’t want anyone seeing him cry. Sissy
was the popular 19503 term given to any fellow male teenager doing anything woman-like, such as crying. Al quickly climbed down the ladder kept his head down and went into the back stock room to compose himself.
After he settled down his emotions, Al returned to cleaning the windows. By the end of his first shift Al decided he’d return again to work. Although his uncle kept him busy, Al would find a chance during every shift to catch a glimpse of the Diamond Spa, thinking of the last meal memory. Al couldn’t recall the rest of the meal. He couldn’t tell you what he ate. His mother filled in some of the gaps, telling him he had an egg sunny-side up, but hardly ate it. She said Al had a hard time focusing on anything else except trying to spin the stool. The ability to glimpse out that window and think of that happy memory motivated Al to work at the hardware store.
Al agreed to take any shift offered to him. When his cousin Tony decided he wanted to be a firefighter instead of working with his father at the hardware store, Uncle Frank took Al under his wing, giving him more responsibility like making bank deposits, ordering supplies for the store, and running the store. Al and his uncle became very close. Uncle Frank may have eventually viewed Al as his son. He left Al the store when he passed in 1975.
By the time Al assumed ownership of the store, he was a persuasive salesperson and an effective manager. He was also known as a lady’s man. Women flocked to his store for he was regarded as a tall, handsome man who treated women with respect by explaining to them how to fix a running toilet or how to cut down tree limbs in the same manner as he would with male customers. Many relationships developed via the hardware store but nothing permanent became of these relationships. Al always put the store above anyone else.
Even with big box retailers threatening Al’s business, the hardware store thrived into the 2010s, due to the store’s reputation as providing excellent customer service. However, e-commerce and Al’s ailing health became factors in declining sales. The nail in the store’s coffin came when the owner of the building that housed the store and Al’s one bedroom apartment died. The new owner jacked up the store’s rent and would not renew leases for the building’s apartments for he wanted to convert the units to condominiums. Al had no choice but to close the business and find a new place to live.
The store, which will become an art gallery, is special to Al. Al will spend the morning reliving the memories associated with the store and his father. The window, now, his gateway to the past.
©2021 Tim Sheehan