Noble Pursuits

I didn't mean to follow him home. It just kind of happened. Our paths converged despite my attempts to follow at a discreet distance. As he crossed the street toward me he raised his hand and shouted, "Hello, Sarah!" I fumbled with my cellphone trying to look preoccupied, but it didn't work. "Hello, Noble," I said. Green bag in hand, Noble stepped to the sidewalk where I was. His hat, as always, sitting on his gigantic glasses. "You never talk to me anymore," he said, by way of introduction. Startled, I began to retort, "That's not exactly true..." but he was still talking. "You can say 'hello' you know. If there's a seat open next to me, you can sit there." I stammered out the rest of my excuse which, like my frequent greetings to the old chap on the bus, went unheard. "We should be friends," he summarized, finally pausing long enough for my response. "Yes, we should be friends. I agree." I said, somewhat flatly. "You can sit by me on the bus if there is a seat free." It sounded like an order. "Well, thank you." What else could I say? And then of course he pressed the advantage, "Would you like to come up for tea or coffee? Just a cup..." I stammered out an excuse, "I promised my grandparents I would stop up to see them." It was a lie. "We're having dinner this evening and I promised I would come right after work..." Lies, lies, lies. Noble mulled over this new bit of information. "Your grandparents? Huh." I refrained from suggesting they might be about his age. Instead I reached for his hand and shook it in an attempt to be proactive. "It is good to see you, Noble," I said. And I meant it. Because it is good to see Noble. No matter how strangely he may behave or how many times he follows me off the bus.

"Good to see you, too!" And he was off to his building.