The New Social Worker Vol. 19, No. 4, Fall 2012 | Page 17

I stepped inside the sparselyfurnished living room. An unmade sofa bed faced a stereo system. A jazz album jacket leaned against one of the speakers. There was a music stand and a fold-up, auditorium chair. One framed, blackand-white photograph of a man playing a slide trombone hung on the wall. “Have a seat in here,” he said, waving me into the kitchen and moving aside sheet music from the dinette table. “Smells good,” I said, savoring the scents of the small feast on the stove. “Oh, I probably won’t eat any of this.” As I sat down, I noticed an overflowing trash bucket containing several days’ worth of previous breakfasts. “I cook this because it reminds me of my Molly,” he explained. “Makes me The Slide Trombone feel like she’s right here with me.” Edgar was eighty and dying of pan Edgar was cooking breakfast the first creatic cancer. His wife had passed away day I visited his apartment. The entica few weeks earlier. ing smell of bacon and pancakes wafted “Only thing I have left is that sheet through his slightly opened door. When music.” he didn’t answer, I pushed it and called I studied a page of penciled notes. his name. “Did you write this?” A wisp of a man stepped out from “That’s what I do,” he said. “Better, the kitchen. “You must be the social though, 1 NSW 2011 ad:Layout 1 1/28/11 2:48 PM Page when I have my trombone.” worker. C’mon in.” “Where is it?” “Used to bring that to Trekkie conventions. I was the doorman. Best days of my life.” I took down the crescent-shaped sword and carefully handed it to him. “Man, I haven’t held this in years.” For the next half hour, Roland forgot about the cockroaches and the squalor of his makeshift bedroom separated by a moldy shower curtain from the rest of the rooming house. He forgot about the heart condition, obesity, and severe depression that ruled his life. He was no longer sixty-four and sickly. “With this, I was somebody,” he said. “No one made fun of me.” In the weeks that followed, Roland was somebody—a time travel warrior. “Hock shop,” he said. “That’s where it goes when I’m running low on cash.” For the next hour, Edgar told me about how he “played with all the jazz heavyweights,” like Arnett Cobb and Jimmy McCracklin. “Played on the Dick Clark Show in the fifties,” he said. “Where I met Molly.” The sparkle in Edgar’s eyes said it all. I had to find a pawn shop... to see about a time machine. A former hospice social worker in Tulsa, Rich Kenney, MSSW, is now director of the Social Work Program and an assistant professor at Chadron State College in Chadron, Nebraska. He is a graduate of the University of Texas with a master’s degree in social work, and received a creative writing fellowship in poetry from the Arizona Commission on the Arts. When not writing, Rich enjoys playing chess and shooting birds (with a camera). He’s also dabbled in rainbow-spotting from the deserts of Arizona and the meadows of Oklahoma all the way to the sandy beaches of Cape Cod. He and his wife, Linda, live in Chadron, Nebraska. MASTER OF SOCIAL WORK • CLINICAL SOCIAL WORK PRACTICE • MANAGEMENT AND PLANNING Fully accredited by the Council on Social Work Education Convenient evening and weekend course work for the adult learner Locations: Harrisburg DuBois Huntingdon Lancaster Pottsville Mansfield Dallas For more information and a complete list of programs offered at Temple University Harrisburg, call 717-232-6400 or 1-866-769-1860 (toll-free), email us at [email protected] or visit our website at www.temple.edu/harrisburg LEARN. LEAD. INSPIRE. The New Social Worker Fall 2012 15