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Monday, October 7, 2019

Goines On: High spirits

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Goines’ voice surprised him when he spoke his first words, a good-morning to his wife. He sounded hoarse, a clear signal that the cold he had finally begun to come down with, after almost a week back from Minnesota, might be worsening, descending, potentially, into his chest. On Mrs. Goines’ advice, he had already been inhaling albuterol several times throughout a day, and taking Mucinex and Claritin tablets.
    Nevertheless, and notwithstanding the apparent worsening of his cold, he wasn’t going to skip his walk to the fitness center. After all, it was the first day of a new month, and his monthly requirement to visit the center at least ten times in order to qualify for his health insurance’s footing the membership fee prompted him to start the month on a good footing.
    He would go again, as he had two days earlier, by the shortcut across a creek, thus avoiding the country road, with its narrow sidings and fairly heavy traffic. The creek might be hazardous, with its steep descent and ascent on both sides and its stepping rocks across, but he figured the risk of falling was potentially a lot less fatal than being hit by a speeding car driven by a texting teenager (or an adult late for work).
    The shortcut, if he walked directly to the fitness center and back, would take less than twenty minutes for the round trip (over ten minutes short of his recommended daily walking time, as prescribed by Mrs. Goines, whose guidance Goines was committed to submitting to), so he did a turn through a small, older community along the road accessed by the creek-crossing. He and Mrs. Goines (and their beloved Ziggy) had walked there occasionally, and the Goineses had continued to walk there, even without Ziggy. Well, without Ziggy in person, but with him in mind.
    Goines would have done a turn around the new Chick-Fil-A, too – it was just beyond the fitness center, along the major road perpendicular to the interstate – but he really needed to get into the fitness center’s men’s locker room to use one of its toilets – he could do the restaurant loop later, after the gentle workout he planned to do.
    A sign in the men’s locker room informed him that it would be closed the week of Christmas for renovation. Goines chuckled as he thought of a joke he would tell somebody at the counter after he finished relieving himself.
    Fortunately, one of the men who worked there was at the counter when he came out, as well as two of the women – Goines didn’t think he should tell the joke to women if they were alone. Goines got their attention and said, “I see that the men’s locker room is going to be closed for a week in December.” Dramatic pause. “I’m looking forward to the week of co-ed locker room.” They all seemed to get it – the implication that the women’s locker room wouldn’t be closed – and the man did a thumbs-up with both hands. Goines laughed too and turned to the fitness machines he always did his exercises on.
    Goines was in very good spirits. Cold worsening or not, he was alive, bright, hopeful. He did five of ten machines, with the weight settings about half his usual, and exited the center, bound with jauntier step than he had arrived with, toward the Wendy’s and Chick-Fil-A he intended to circle before heading back to the creek. The Chick-Fil-A parking lot was almost full, and Wendy’s almost empty. In fact, Wendy’s wasn’t even open, he realized. Had the new Chick-Fil-A put that big a dent in Wendy’s customer base?
    Mrs. Goines had just returned from her own walk when Goines entered the garage. They were both in good spirits, their walks having enlivened their circulations, physical and mental.
    While Mrs. Goines was doing her stretches, which she routinely did after walking – Goines had skipped his this morning – he cut open the packaging for the new bottles of Claritin they had bought at Costco the day before and set one of the bottles on the chest of drawers in the hall to await 9 o’clock, which would be 24 hours after the first one he had, the day before. He told Mrs. Goines he had opened the package of Claritin and was going to go finish cleaning up the kitchen.
    She asked him to hand her the bottle, which he did before proceeding to the kitchen. Presently she called to him to come back and open the bottle. “I can’t turn the lid.”
    Goines went back down the hall and took the bottle from his wife, who was still lying on the exercise mats in their guest bedroom. He twisted the lid off and handed the bottle back to her.
    “How did you do that so easily?” she asked.
    Goines smiled and said slyly – realizing that he was being sly, so effervescent were his spirits still – “Well, I just pressed down on the lid and used a little of my man-power!”
    Mrs. Goines, whose cold had set in even before they left Minnesota, began to cough, she found her husband’s witticism so enjoyable.
    Goines felt exceedingly good, even with all of the trouble in Washington.


Copyright © 2019 by Moristotle

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