It was a late July afternoon when I met him.
Out of boredom, I often poked around in the heaps of crap up at the recycling depot,
daydreaming of uncovering
some acclaimed BC potter's discarded wares
or a fixed-gear bike I could resell to a particular genre if and when I ever made it back to Vancouver.
On this particular summer day, my foot was meditatively flipping broken plates over when a scruffy orange cat sashayed out from the bushes beside me.
We greeted each other, and my eyes followed a smear of black grease down its back that ended at
a gargantuan ball sack swaying between its legs.
You've got some pretty big balls there, pussycat.
A raspy voice belonging to someone who drank too much the night before
piped up from somewhere behind me.
That guy's responsible for 90% of the feral colony on the island.
Embarrassed by my uncouth observation of the feline's anatomy and
taken aback because I was being watched, I turned to see a
fuzzy-haired,
shirtless,
overly
tanned,
leather-skinned dude
in his mid-40s
leaning against a sheet of corrugated metal.
This guy absolutely spent his formative years loitering outside a corner store in a
mesh number 83 half-top and nut huggers on his stolen BMX, trying to sell smokes to minors.
He smiled a plaque-toothed grin and nodded in the cat's direction.
His name's Göring. You know who Göring is?
Armed with a useless history degree with a major in Nazi Germany,
I knew who Göring was - but for the sake of any in-depth conversation,
I played dumb.
After a long mansplanation of the Luftwaffe's strategy, he introduced himself as Bishop.
But I go by Bish.
Oh fuck.
My two best dude friends had sternly warned me about this guy.
My female friends simply stated,
Stay far away from Bish.
Don't talk to him.
Don't even look in his direction.
He's not a good person.
Which, of course, explains his cat's unfortunate misnomer.
While making small talk, I slowly backed away.
It's super to meet you, Bish; enjoy your day with Göring!
When I was far enough away, I turned my back to him.
Hey, what's your name? Who are you with?
I played deaf.
He organized a beach party to celebrate Derek's death a year later.
