The Old Man in the Club Read Online Free PDF Page A

have no interest in being a senior citizen. I’m not at that age yet and I don’t like what it seems to mean, which is you’re old and, therefore, have to live a lifestyle that consists of a rocking chair, a sweater even when it’s hot outside, and watching old Westerns.
    â€œI remember my father when he was my age and he seemed to think that meant watching Johnny Carson and going to bed. Well, not me. I always had this sadness about my dad, like he was missing out on life. He never went anywhere. My recollection of himis that he was always this old man. Even when I was a kid he seemed old and settled and not quite like life was treating him right.
    â€œThe reality is that life doesn’t treat you; you get out of life what you want out of it. There is too much available in the world, especially nowadays, to be this old man who has his place.
    â€œI don’t have one place. I have a lot of interests and a lot of opportunities and I’m making it happen for myself. Does it look crazy to some, seeing me at sixty-one years old in a club full of youngsters my children’s age? I guess so. A guy called me ‘the old man in the club’ tonight. Guess what? It didn’t faze me. It was true. I wasn’t offended.
    â€œWhen you live the life I have lived, you are thankful for each day more than most people. I missed out on my twenties. I didn’t get to be young and carefree and enjoy life.
    â€œWell, I have that chance now. I’m angry about some of the things that happened to me. But I am here; I’m still here. So I’m going to do what I damn please. And I don’t care what anyone thinks about it.”
    Tamara did not interject when Elliott paused. She was not sure if he was done. But after several seconds, she figured he had said his peace—or all he wanted to up to that point.
    â€œI see you’re really passionate about this,” she said. “What happened to you?”
    â€œI can’t tell you everything at once; it’d be too much for you to handle,” he said. “But I will tell you about what happened with my children, why they weren’t exactly happy to see me tonight.”
    â€œLet me guess,” Tamara said. “You cheated.”
    â€œI could be insulted,” Elliott said, “but I’m going to let it go because you don’t really know me yet. But—”
    â€œThat’s right,” Tamara interrupted, “and you said you want tohave sex with me, even though you admitted you don’t know me.”
    â€œI said that you don’t know me; I know you,” Elliott said.
    â€œNow how can that be?” she responded. “Never mind—don’t even answer that now… Go ahead.”
    Elliott smiled and poured Tamara a glass of the champagne he brought to the balcony.
    â€œMaybe you should go.” He looked away from her.
    â€œWhy? I don’t want to go.”
    â€œWe’ll see about that,” Elliott said, and the way he said it made Tamara uneasy, but not scared.
    â€œI’m here because I want to be here, Elliott. What happened?”
    â€œYou notice that when we talk during the day, I am always out walking?”
    â€œI did notice that. Why?”
    â€œI’m always out walking because all of my twenties and some of my thirties—almost twelve years in total—I was confined. Prison. I had a limited space I could travel. So walking wherever I want confirms that I am free.”
    He delivered every word while looking directly into her eyes. He was searching for her emotion.
    â€œWhat?” Tamara asked. “Why? What happened?”
    â€œThey said I raped and killed a woman in Virginia.” Elliott was looking away now, toward the darkened sky, as if it was an enormous movie screen and he could see that part of his life playing out in front of him.
    Tamara, meanwhile, was stunned—and scared so much that she was frozen in her seat and