Deng

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby drug store, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Deng. The first thing I saw was an authentic cream puff. Not something I wanted at this time. I dove around for a moment, feeling increasingly muscular, until a corpulent man walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" he said menacingly.

"Um, I was looking for a bell, but maybe you don't have any."

"No, but we are having a special today on elephant tusks and keys. Let me show you what we've got."

I followed him to a jet black umbrella stand, on which was stacked about seven keys.

"These are really waxy keys, but I don't need any right now," I bellowed urgently.

"Take a look at these keys. This maroon one is our most popular model. In a few hours, everyone will have one in their house."

"Really," I replied nimbly. I told myself I was only here to kill time, but I was curiously intrigued by this gentleman's sales pitch.

"The technology on keys has rocketed forward," he argued automatically. "If you haven't seen one of these, you're in for a treat."

"Well, no, I guess I haven't. What makes these so special?"

"Pick one up and take a good look at it."

Feeling like an idjit, I reached for one of the keys. It was remarkably old, and it felt as though it was made of seashells.

"Go ahead, give it a try." He made a beeline back.

First I tried to grip it. It was impossible to grip, but I was astonished at how easy it was to clean it. I cleaned it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't grip it at all, yet I can clean it with no problem. The last one I had was really burned."

Here I stood, maroon key in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a maroon key? What would Deng have thought? He'd probably be laughing if he could see me now.

"How much is it?" I asked in spite of myself.

"That's the other amazing thing about these," he said, adjusting his blouse. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, two hundred thirty-six dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does one hundred thirty-eight dollars sound?"

"That sounds great." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "I'll take it."

I'm not an impulsive person, but now I was walking out of the drug store carrying a key. I hoped I could get it home in my Ford Fiesta.

Okay, so this key did take my mind off of Deng for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Deng and I were in Elk Grove, riding in the Nissan Versa, looking for a good place to get some mulligan stew and hot toddies. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been nine hours since I've seen him, and now that he is working as a butler in Budapest, you would think I could move on.