The people in the neighbourhood : the man at the pharmacy

I arrive home after walking Beertje to school and search for my house keys in my pockets. Without thinking, I look left along the sidewalk. And I realise he’s not there.  I haven’t seen him. Not today. Not earlier this week either.

With a small smile I notice that this makes me a little sad. This complete stranger had quietly become part of our morning routine. A nod. A mumbled “good morning” at most.

Once,  just once, I opened a conversation when I noticed him checking his watch.
“Yeah, he seems a bit late today, doesn’t he? I’m sure he’ll come and open soon.”
And then: “Ah, there he is. That car a bit further.”

I don’t remember when I first noticed him. It must have been late spring or early summer. From our window I could already spot the pink-orange of his T-shirt. One of his bright pale eyes didn't seem 100% aligned with the other in his look.  When leaving for school or returning home, he was often squatting against the wall, holding a small bottle of water.  Squatting down as if standing up in a wait was unbearable and took too much energy.  Always the same T-shirt. Always there before the pharmacy opened.

Over time I learned his rhythm: Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

When it got colder, he added a denim jacket on top of the T-shirt. But I could still spot the pink-orange T-shirt underneith.  Still arriving early. Still waiting with his bottle of water, squatted against the wall. A few minutes after opening, he would leave again.

I’ve never seen where he came from.

I often wondered why he came so faithfully, on such a fixed schedule. Did the pharmacist administer medication to him? Was it something regulated, which he couldn’t take home? It felt inappropriate to ask. Not him. Not the pharmacist either, with whom I chat regularly.

So I kept nodding “good morning” when walking back home. 

And now, as quietly as he appeared, he no longer does. Given the Christmas vacation that broke our routine, I am not so certain when he stopped his routine.  In a way I’m happy for him that he didn't have to cross through the recent winter weather.  I have difficulty to picture him with a proper winter coat, gloves, a hat without his pink- orange T-shirt uniform.