Rudy got up a little after six, scratching his head and standing by the window, looking out at the low clouds, the rain, the wet streets.  It had been raining for five days.  Well, maybe four.  He didn’t keep count.   

He didn’t feel well.  His leg, for one thing.  Hurt on that bus two years ago.  He was standing, - no one would give him a seat, a man of seventy-five - when it careened into a lamppost, the driver slumped over the wheel.  Wrecked his knee.  Anterior cruciate something.  Athletes get it, the doctors said, trying to make him feel better.  Exercise, be patient, they said.  But it hurt when he walked and it hurt when he tried to sleep.  A lot of pain and no gain.  Not to mention his heart.  It kept speeding up and slowing down like an old engine.  Not to mention his eyes.  They had dried up.  He was just old.  He was sick of being old. 

But mostly he was lonely.  He and Loretta had broken up ten years ago.  He couldn’t stand her damned complaining and she couldn’t stand his damned silence.  Worse than complaining, she said.  Maybe he didn’t like her any more but he still loved her.  Then she had to go and die.  Waiting to see her doctor.  Everyone thought she had just fallen asleep.  He still felt sad.   She didn’t deserve to die.

And his best buddy, Lester Peyton, he was gone too, a few months ago.  Funny guy, lost a bunch of toes to frost bite in Korea;  made a fortune selling washing machines and lost it all gambling in Vegas; married three times, twice to the same woman who finally discouraged him when she tried to kill him.  You asked him how he was and he went on to something else, this and that, finally coming back to your question out of the blue.  I’m down to counting the days, Rudy.  He missed him too.

Rudy started to cry.  He had been crying a lot lately.  Not really crying, just tears rolling down his cheeks.  Oh, the rain!  The gloom!  No one to talk to except Samson, his big red cat, lazy, passing his days sleeping on his pillow under the window, the sun streaming in on him when it was nice.  Rudy scratched his head and explained things to him.  I gotta go, Samson, he said, a soft voice other than himself speaking from somewhere deep.  It hurts.  It hurts too much.  Samson looked up, his eyes blinking with sleep as Rudy took his waterproof coat and baseball cap out of the closet.  He put on the shoes he had bought to exercise, brand new and still in the box.  If anything happens to me, he said, walking to the door, Mrs. Logan will take care of you.  I know that.  You be good.  He nodded, looked around the apartment and closed the door softly behind him. 

The rain was light, virtually a drizzle, feeling pleasant when it blew into his face.  Black leaves were pasted to the sidewalk, lights from apartments and store windows glistened on the blacktop. The James Bridge rose from the bottom of a hill, red lights flashing at the top of its dark towers.  Fog curled on the gray water.  He saw Loretta, at the wheel of her first car, a blue convertible; the two of them holding hands in an airplane bouncing in a storm.  Why now? Rudy wondered.  It didn’t seem all that remarkable at   the time

A woman was standing at the stairway to the bridge.   She was small, wearing a yellow rain slicker and holding a cloth bag.  Rudy lowered his head and hoped she would pass by.  She stopped instead.  Well, hello, she said.  How are you on this rainy morning? Her face seemed wrinkled but not very old.  Rudy nodded.  It’s pleasant, walking in the rain, isn’t it? she said.  Oh, yes, I like it, Rudy said.  Refreshing, the woman went on.  Rain means us well.  And it makes the sunlight just that much nicer.  Right, Rudy said.  But, you know, sometimes it just comes at the wrong time.  Like company.  The woman laughed.  Yes, yes, that’s true.  Mother nature is wonderful but she’s a bit heavy handed, isn’t she?  Snow?  Here, have two feet of it.  You need water?  How about a flood instead?  She laughed again, a high, almost girlish laugh that made Rudy smile.  Now, I assume you’re taking a walk across the bridge? she said.  Rudy hesitated.  I was thinking of it.  Well, take care, she said.  It’s windy out there and the bridge moves, you know.  People get vertigo.  Oh, I will, Rudy said.  The woman reached into her bag and taking out a baguette, handed it to him.  Enjoy this, I can see you’re a nice man.  Oh, you’re so kind, Rudy said, taking the bread shyly.  With a little wave, the woman walked away.  And thank you! Rudy called after her.

He stood glowing.  Now wasn’t that nice?  Whatever business he had on the bridge, he didn’t want to do anymore.  He turned and headed for home, the smell of the bread making him hungry. 

Samson came running when he opened the door of his apartment.  Did I forget to feed you guy? he said, picking him up and cradling him in his arms.  I’m hungry too.  After feeding Samson, he put on coffee and walked to the window.  The rain had tapered off.  The sky behind the James Bridge was a bright orange.  A quick ray of sunlight swept the wet streets, illuminating the sides of buildings before it faded away.