No sooner had I began to reach for the play button when I heard the screen door open behind me, “Mornin’ Kids, what shakin’ ?” said Anklin as he munched on some asparagus and looked disdainfully at the mess of packing and parachute cord strewn over the deck. Godzilla jumpin up in a jig of canine joy at the new pack member joining the excitement. The sounds of uilleann bagpipes and traditional irish music following Anklin out the door.
I looked up at the old man who had more energy and gumption than the the herd of pygmy goats out back. On this Sunday morning he was arising unusually late. I remembered the OLED screen flowing from the transom of Anklin’s suite last night so I guessed that he had been replaying a game. “Ank, you watched another game last night?” I asked.
“Indeed I did young man. Wow, it was a classic. Really still, to this day, one of the best comebacks ever.”
“Oh yah?” I asked wondering which of the Celtic’s/Lakers championship games he had watched. I knew it had to be a Celtics/Lakers game based upon the Seamus Ennis music flowing from the kitchen Bose. He generally played Ennis when he was in a basketball Celtics/Lakers replay mode. He was fan of the game but depending upon the year he would vacillate between being a Celtic or a Lakers fan. Though the music he played was always trad.
“You know. I remember watchin’ the game back in the early summer of ’08 and it was just devastating. Couldn’t believe it. I was there, sittin’ behind and beside Jack and he was just so damn quiet. Damn quiet and arms folded. Steaming. I mean he was having his usual crackin’ time at the game, but he was beside himself by the time the Laker had lost their 24 point lead in the forth quarter. Lost the lead in their own house. Their own court. Jack’s own hardwood. Drinkin’ bottled water. I thought he’d pull his barker out and start shootin’ up the joint.”
I was trying to remember the game Anklin’ was replaying, and colouring, but it was not coming back to my memory…
“Hey Uncle Ank, would you like any coffee or juice this morning,” asked Cocoa.
“Aaah, OK doll. I’ll have some of that pomegran-night and cranberry.” Anklin’ said as he pulled on a oversized hippo-dog-pull toy with Godzilla as he told of the infamous Laker draining by the Celtics in game four of the ’08 championship series. “Ya, pomegran-night and cranberry. Man, that Ray Allen. He played the entire game, that game. And, and he had one of the most beautiful, smooth as pond ice isolation driving layups at the end of the game to totally empty LA. Just gorgeous. The iso started above the three point line so it really looked like hollywood movie type play. Unfortunately for LA they cast the wrong guy to play one-on-one with in that game. Ray Allen, smooth.”
Now I remembered the game Ank’ was talkin’ about. Indeed it was beautiful thing. Now, if all the games were that extraordinary I could understand replayin’ old games but they were not all that amazing, so I was still mystified by Ank’s interest in replaying and actually watching old games.
“Ok here is your juice Ank’. So, Coop do you remember the game Ank’s talkin’ about,” asked Cocoa.
“Well, I remember the story. Celtics come back from a 20 something deficit in LA in game four. Ray Allen plays all 48. Posey and House have huge contributions. Pierce and Garnet their usual great and strong selves. Another amazing Celtics/Lakers playoff game.”
“Oh, come on Coop. It was not just another amazing playoff game.” said Cocoa. It was The biggest playoff comeback ever. Still is today. I’m more of a baseball and competitive yoga fan but the Celtics/Lakers rivalry was always good fun.”
“Yes, Cocoa, you are correct. Alway good fun.” Agreed Ank as he sipped his juice.
“Did you just say you were a competitive yoga fan, Cocoa?” I asked.
“Har Har, you were listening to me. Hey Ank’, one of Coop’s associated parachuted this package in this mornin’ and we are just dying to listen to this weird tape that came along with it. Do you mind?”
“Oh, right. Right, sorry to have interrupted kids. I’ll take my juice and ‘Zilla and go see how the espalier are coming in.” Ank’ said, as he trotted of with the dog and the freaky hippo pull toy. Cocoa and I turned to the cart machine.
“So, competitive yoga? Is that an actual sport? ” I asked as I adjusted the cart in the slot.
“Well, it may be. But that would just be weird and likely something that developed in LA if it is a sport. I mean it pretty much is the antithesis of hatha yoga when you get right down to it. All ego and surface but that is what sells as they know well. ” said Cocoa as she opened the silken wrap around her hips and let the sun shine in as we prepared to finally listen.
As I checked the position of the cart in the deck, I noticed an envelope attached to the side of the machine. “Hey look at this photo.” I said as I handed the envelope and picture to Cocoa.
“Huh…., that’s interesting. Was that in the package?” she asked.
“Yah, I just found it. Looks kinda interesting and familiar.” I said.
“Yes, that is a neat bag.” Cocoa said as she looked at the photo, taking off her sun glasses.
“Hey is that Marblehead? Maybe around Singing beach, or is that….” I wondered
“Yah, that could be up on the Northshore. I really like the bag thing. ” said Cocoa.
As I pondered the photo, looking over her bare shoulder and her amazingly peach coloured hair, I began to recognize the location of the picture, “Hey, I know who and where that picture was taken.”
“Yah? Well….” asked Cocoa.
“Yah. That is…. ” I paused for dramatic effect.
“Yes!” Cocoa said loudly.
“That…. Photo…. You are cradling in your skimpily laced lap. Is….” I really dragged it out to see if I could get Coke to hop out of the lounger in a eye-popping bouncy pinup sort of way.
“Hello?” Said Cocoa not taking the bait and instead snapping of the head of a nearby sunflower and batting me over the skull, the seeds pinching my temple.
“Ready….? Well, that photo is of…. us!” I cooly said, picking some seeds from my ear and hair, looking up into the blue sky, genuinely panicked.