I spotted her once again sitting in a tattered, old-fashioned lawn chair. She sat just about 20 feet away from a food truck, her eyes closed as she waved an abandoned paper plate back and forth in front of her face.
I drove to the dollar store and picked up a folding fan and a cold bottle of water. Now, the trick would be to get her to accept this small but vital purchase. She and I had a history of rather lengthy conversations, cold water, and the occasional burger and fries. Of course, the McDonald’s food was accompanied by a large sweet tea.
Her name was Sandra, but she preferred Sandy. I got out of my car and walked slowly toward her, the fan and bottle in my hands. She tucked the paper plate under her left arm, removed her sunglasses and smiled.
“So,” she said. “You got me an air conditioner and some pure water straight from the fountain of youth!” She laughed loudly and held her arms out for her small gifts. “You are so good to me. I can never pay you for all you do.”
“I love helping out in any way I can,” I said.
She began waving the fan and drinking the cold bottled water, a mischievous look in her eyes. I stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. I went to my car and pulled out a camp chair and carried it over near Sandy. The car needed to be moved and after doing that, I went back to Sandy and my chair.
Sandy had moved from her raggedy lawn chair to my much nicer camp chair, and she laughed loudly. I sat down gently on her lawn chair, worried that it would suddenly crash to the ground, but I found it to be quite sturdy. I settled down with my feet crossed and smiled triumphantly at Sandy.
“I have to ask you a question, dear lady. Why do you come here every day? I am so puzzled by that. Now, don’t misunderstand me. I love seeing you here, talking with you, laughing with you, teasing you, and calling you my friend. Actually, you are my best friend.”
“Me? I am your best friend? Someone like me?”
Tears welled up in her eyes and I reached out and took her hand.
“Yeah, Sandy. You are good company and even on my dreariest days, you can make me smile. I would call that being a best friend!”
“It’s official then! We are two seasoned ladies who just happen to be best friends! Very cool!”
That was the first and only time we talked about our friendship. Sandy disappeared during the cold winter months but always returned to her favorite spot — right near the food truck — as soon as warm weather decided to spend some time in Aroostook County.
When I returned in the spring, the food truck was in its usual space, but there was no Sandy
With hope in my heart, I decided to see if the food truck group had any information about their biggest fan. They could not tell me anything, though the food truck owner told me Sandy used to say that she lived “near the river.”
I drove up and down Limestone Street, as well as other areas that could be described as near the water, and I did not see anyone or anything that would lead me to Sandy. I checked and rechecked the obituaries on my laptop and I found nothing.
I am a much better person because of her. And when I look back on our time together, I am thankful that I told her we were best friends, because that is exactly what we were. I always came to spend time with her and she was always there, in her rickety lawn chair and a cold bottle of water or two.
Wherever you are, Sandy, I hope you have found happiness and a sturdy chair to sit in as you watch this crazy world spin by.
Belinda Wilcox Hersey lives in Caribou with her husband, Kent. You may email her at belindahersy@gmail.com.
