That next weekend I was working from home when Justin asked me from the living room if I'd ever known Obie to walk around shirtless in skinny jeans with a backwards wide-brim 'homeboy' cap. That's one of those questions that is comparable to turning a familiar corner in your hometown to suddenly find you're in a 3-D Hieronymus Bosch painting, where people's torsos are made out of half egg shells and birdmen with Elizabethan gardening hats roast decapitated heads on spits.
"Wait ... what?" was all I could say.
He called me into the living room where he was peeking out of the curtain onto the condo parking lot.
"Look," he said. I did.
There in the distance, walking around kind of aimlessly, was Obie, thinner by about 10 pounds, holey sneakers, a wadded up black tee shirt jammed into his back pocket, and in the company of a very thin woman who had not washed her hair in a while. Both of them were sipping beverages wrapped in brown paper bags. His own hair had magically grown at least 2 inches since we saw him yesterday.
"It's not Obie," I said.
"Duh. Of course not. But then who is it?"
"My best guess would be either Joel, Amos, or Micah. And since Micah is Obie's twin ..."
We watched the two crane their necks to look at addresses on the surrounding buildings and just as they spotted ours, Justin opened the door and watched them walk up.
"Can I help y'all?" Justin called.
"Maybe," the guy said. His baritone was a few pitches deeper than Obie's. "We're looking for a dude named Obie."
"Wait ... what?" was all I could say.
He called me into the living room where he was peeking out of the curtain onto the condo parking lot.
"Look," he said. I did.
There in the distance, walking around kind of aimlessly, was Obie, thinner by about 10 pounds, holey sneakers, a wadded up black tee shirt jammed into his back pocket, and in the company of a very thin woman who had not washed her hair in a while. Both of them were sipping beverages wrapped in brown paper bags. His own hair had magically grown at least 2 inches since we saw him yesterday.
"It's not Obie," I said.
"Duh. Of course not. But then who is it?"
"My best guess would be either Joel, Amos, or Micah. And since Micah is Obie's twin ..."
We watched the two crane their necks to look at addresses on the surrounding buildings and just as they spotted ours, Justin opened the door and watched them walk up.
"Can I help y'all?" Justin called.
"Maybe," the guy said. His baritone was a few pitches deeper than Obie's. "We're looking for a dude named Obie."
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