Cool Breeze

Saturday, April 19th, was my team’s last day working with our sponsor, the Academy of Success, in southwest Baltimore. In the morning, we worked with a score of community members and picked up trash in the blocks surrounding the current site of the Academy. For lunch, our friends at the Academy hosted a celebratory cookout for us.

After everyone had taken a seat, Mr. Eddie, the Director of Youth Services at the Academy, bellowed, “Alright, everybody. Stand up! Now, go sit next to someone you don’t already know.” Mr. Eddie grinned. “There’s gonna’ be a prize for the person who knows the most about their neighbor.”

I moved and sat down next to a wiry man who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Academy’s founder, Ben Barnwell. Right away, he went to work trying to win that prize.

“How tall are you, man?” he asked me.

“Five-nine,” I replied.

He tsked. “You’re taller than me. I’m only five-eight.”

What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Sanford Barnwell,” he replied. “And yours?”

“Eric. So you’re Ben’s brother that I haven’t met yet.”

Sanford smiled. “I kept meaning to head out to the site when you all were there, but it never worked out—I do a lot of substance abuse recovery work. I did get up on the roof—I used to do some roof-work myself—and saw what you all did and I ant to let you know that I’m impressed. It looks good.”

“Thank you.”

Sanford forgot me for a moment as he tried to get the attention of one of the young attractive team leaders visiting our site. “Sophie over there is going to be my wife someday.”

Sophie turned her head and started to say something, but I leapt in with, “Congratulations, Sophie. Sanford here is quite a catch.”

Sanford laughed. “Thanks, uh, what was your name again?”

“Eric.”

Sanford smiled. “I don’t mean anything by it. I have short-term memory loss, you see. So, usually, I just give everybody a nickname. Like yours, yours would be ‘Cool Breeze’.”

I laughed. “Why’s that?”

“Because you sit back and observe everything, real cool, calm. It’s refreshing, man, like a cool breeze.”

“Eric,” Sophie yelled from the end of the table. “What’s he telling you?”

“I was just telling Cool Breeze here,” Sanford interjected, “how perfect you and I would be together.”

“I think he’s right,” I said.

Sanford laughed and slapped me on the back. “Yeah, Cool Breeze. Yeah!”