He knew he'd been lucky. Some of his class mates had become more distinguished. Few had made more money. And now he could retire. There was a house near Tucson. Adobe elegant with a fountained courtyard and traditional fireplace. Soon he would move there. Soon all the ends would be tied off and he would be a free man.
But meanwhile he was out of toilet paper and coffee so he was making a late night trip to the convenience store by the freeway.
A woman with a strange haircut said something to him as he entered the store, but he didn't hear what she said so he ignored her. He stood meekly in line with his TP and can of Yuban. He didn't even notice the cashier. A blotchy woman in her thirties.
``Mr. Bergen,'' she said.
``Why yes...''
``You don't remember me. I'm Julia. Dave's kid. You designed my dad's house.''
Now he remembered. Vaguely. The Cranston house. It must have been twenty five years ago. There was a child, yes, who said she wanted to be an architect. And now that bright child was this rough faced woman ringing up gas and beer on the late shift. He remembered Dave Cranston. How pretentious to hire an architect to help design the cheap little house he was building himself. Yet it had turned out well.
``You wanted to be an architect.''
``I still do. A few things got in the way. I'm working on it now, though. Going to community college. Whenever I go into a building I always ask myself...why...like why are the doors where they are in here? It don't make sense...''
``Its because its cost effective and it looks good on the outside,'' he said.
``But people are stuck on the inside...''
``But more people see the outside...''
Julia took $15 for pump three and sold a couple of Slurpees.
``Yeah, well, anyway...''
He went back to his car and sat a moment thinking of Julia at ten, to whom he had offered no encouragement, and Julia at thirty five stepping out to smoke a cigarette in the glaring darkness.
Perhaps he should get out of the car and say something. A little advice. Yes. Advice - perhaps even his phone number ...
As he reached for the door handle she tossed away her cigarette and went back into the store.
He shrugged to himself and drove away.