#sedriks

I’m not sure what day of the week it was, when I met Aleks.   I was sitting on a coffee house patio in Austin, Texas.  Spider House. 

I had been hanging out there for a few days; my truck was broken and I hadn’t yet decided how to deal with it so I was taking some time to wander and enjoy the place that had become my favourite city.

I came in the back entry of the yard at Spider House, and parked myself and my giant backpack on one side of a plastic booth seat.  I pulled out my laptop to try to get some work done while I waited for an employee to pop by and ask if I needed some coffee.  

‘Hey, aren’t you that girl from Canada?’  I looked back to see Aleks there, covered in tattoos and wearing an apron around his waist.

‘Yea, that’s me!’ I told him.  I looked at his gray beard and the greasy bandana wrapped around his head.  He explained how he’d overheard me conversing with a co-worker about my unkept dreads.  He asked if he could buy me a beer. With nowhere to be, and always alright with a free beer I agreed.

Next thing I know, Aleks and I had wandered all across downtown Austin on foot and by bus, ended up back at Spider House to pick up his bicycle, and were walking through streets and streets of dark houses and big trees.  He pushed his bike beside him and I was still carrying my giant backpack, big enough that I could lean my head back on it.  He led me to his place, a studio flat, full of a trinkets that held stories and significance to him.  We dropped off my backpack and his bike then climbed to the upstairs level of the building across the street: Barfly’s.  He introduced me to a number of people who came in, we drank a lot of Pearl, and smoked a lot of cigarettes before we went back to his place, where he showed me some music, pulled out his sketchbook, and after showing me his drawings, requested that I draw something in it for him, as a keepsake to remember the evening.

The next morning, he walked with me for a while, then directed me where to walk to find the bus stop- and which bus to take to get back downtown, then biked off ahead of me in order to make it to work on time.

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I frequented Spider House for the next week or so, but didn’t cross paths with him. 

It was time to leave Austin. I went back in one more time and it was Aleks who brought me my plate of nachos.   When he realized it was me, his entire face lit up, ‘You’re alive! You’re HERE!’

He sat in my booth and told me how worried he had been about me!  He went on about hearing about a car accident on the highway, how he kept thinking that it could have been me- he had no way to contact me, to make sure I was okay.  His eyes glistened and he switched to my side of the booth and hugged me.  I laughed and told him that my family doesn’t even worry about me that much, but my heart swelled when I realized how much he cared.

I spent my final evening in Austin with Aleks.  My truck was running again, so we tossed his bicycle into the back, and didn’t worry about the bus.  We ended up back at Barfly’s, drinking Pearl and smoking cigarettes.  Not wanting to lose contact, he asked for my phone number and I asked for his Facebook.  He didn’t realize that the iPod he had was capable of being used to send messages to me, access his Facebook account and have so many other uses, so I taught him.  He opened a new email, activated iMessage, added me on Facebook- and we were officially connected!

It was time to say goodbye, I felt my throat tighten and I saw his eyes glisten over again.  ‘You could stay, if you wanted, you know.  You can stay at my place, I can help you out...  I know you can’t legally work, but you could make some money with photography.’  I could feel that I was shaking my head already, I knew that I had to go, it was almost time to head back to Canada. ‘Don’t be creeped out either, hey, I don’t mean anything bad by it...  but if you ever want to come back, or you know.. you ever want a Texas boyfriend, you know you’ve got one.’

I laughed in wonder at his open soul, amazed by his honesty and generosity. I told him I would be back to visit before he knew it, but that it was time to go. He buried his teary face into my dirty, knotted hair and hugged me goodbye, kissing my head.

He gave me two cigarettes for the road, and that was the last time I saw Aleks.  

He kept track of the rest of my traveling, commenting on my photos and sending me messages, and over the past year we continued to check in with each other occasionally.

Friday, March 25, 2016 I saw the news that Aleks had died.  My whole body felt numb.  We don’t have friends in common, Aleks and I.  There was nobody to talk to here in Canada, to share our memories, to marvel at what an amazing human being he was, to go out and drink in honour of with- so I continued to read every single message shared on his Facebook page, look at every photo, and hope that it was just some awful joke.

I never made it back to Austin in time, I never got to see Aleks again, and for that I am terribly saddened.  For such a short time we spent together, we developed a bond, and trust.  I’ve regularly re-told bits and pieces of the story of the time I spent with him over the  past year, and will continue to do so forever.