Memoir

There is nothing like starting a Saturday afternoon by being 2 minutes late to work and having 6 impatient MIT sorority sisters waiting to make copies of their pledge cards that they hand out to their prospective sisters. "You are invited to join our Sorority"

The copiers kept jamming on the card stock, so I felt like I was spinning plates on the Ed Sullivan show.

"You are invited to slowly lose your mind as you pull down lever 2 and twist knob 3 ..."

Eventually the copy shop slowed down and I turned around and saw a kid with a shaved head sitting at the computer.

It was my younger brother, graduate of the small private high school in Boston, still struggling to find himself at 25.

The sorority sisters were gone and my brother was there. He was wearing a green knit zip up cardigan that had space invaders coming down the left hand side.

The counter was strewn with what would turn out to be 165 dollars worth of coins I was rolling.

"Hey B, do you have any change I can borrow," he said.

"No, sorry," I said.

He eyed the fluorescent green 2 liter mountain dew bottle on the counter.

"You mind, if I get a swig of that Holmes," he said.

"Sure, you can finish it off," I said.

"Did you hear about Kitty," he said.

"No," I said.

"She died," he said.

I though about Kitty who I had just seen a couple of months ago with my girlfriend in Marblehead. She had driven up from Worcester with her husband (my late step grandfather's nephew) to see my Grandmother and Uncle. My Grandmother was getting better after being sick out near UCLA for months. I remember going to Sturbridge Village with her when I was younger. I guess Kitty died suddenly of a heart attack.

"The fax machine is not accepting multiple pages," someone said.

Work snapped me out of my thoughts and I checked the clock, 3 hours until my weekend job was over. My hands were becoming dirty feeling, after handling so many silver coins.