I’m back. Sore and tired, but I’m back. The move didn’t take long, once a truck was finally procured. GeekFriend, needless to say, was rather miffed with the rental company. I mean, he reserved a certain truck at a certain time and it was more than 24 hours late in getting to him. Bad business, if you ask me.

If one pays for a truck from your company, one should get a truck from your company.

I was able to meet his dad, which was a treat. He’s a wonderfully funny and kind man. I’m sworn to secrecy regarding everything he told me, however. I may not even discuss it with GeekFriend himself. If I did, I’d have to kill him.

We had to move some extremely heavy things down stairs that were nearly vertical. In many ways, it was horrible. Drenched in sweat, the appliances and furniture would slip and we’d have to readjust as we moved down the stairs. Very odd, indeed. But, it was much easier than when we moved stuff in there. The fact that I have the upper body strength of an anorexic fourteen-year old asthmatic girl didn’t help much.

Our last big item of the day was a cat pole. It was around three hundred feet tall and had geometric arrays of platforms that would make a cat go nuts with pleasure as it moved from level to level. However, we don’t know how we were able to get it up the stairs of the fire escape because we couldn’t get it down.

Enter rope and GeekFriend’s amazing ability to tie knots. We looped around the top platform, made a pulley system out of the fire escape’s railing system. We lowered that sucker down.

With all his stuff loaded in the truck, his pick-up on the trailer . . . the only thing left to do was say good bye. We’d been discussing this for a long time and, I think, it was hard for both of us. Neither of us have much faith in humanity . . . or maybe we just find most humans annoying. So, the fact they we formed a strong friendship in such a short time was unusual for both of us. I actually had a buddy again. Something I hadn’t had since Boston Friend became Boston Friend.

But life is a series of hellos and goodbyes. Whether it's on a daily basis or on a grand scale. We are always saying hello and goodbye to one another. It's those open-ended goodbyes that are the most difficult.

So the truck was loaded, locked and ready to go. We stood on the sidewalk, his dad and ex-wife staring at us. In the end, neither one of us could really face the fact that we had formed a bond and really truly cared about each other. And . . . we said good-bye. As if he was going on a long vacation and nothing more.

I suppose that is the way I should look at it. Life is such that we never know which way it will flow. Perhaps someday my family and I will find ourselves out in Oregon. Or, perhaps, GeekFriend will wind up back here again. Life has a funny way of leading us along a crooked path. We’re never really that far away from those we care about. In fact, I haven’t been reading all this science fiction all these years only to be frightened by something as simple as time, space and distance. Bah! I should say. Tis only a few thousand miles.

But, really, it’s not the distance. Just like it isn’t the distance from here to Boston that’s the issue. Portland and Boston are far away, that is true. But it’s the daily grind that I miss. No more movies together, not phone conversations about how Superman’s cape is not logical because it causes drag. No more sub movies.

Life will have to suffice with the occasional visit. But the time will be so short. That’s what intimidates me the most. It’s not the long periods between visits but the short time allotted for visits.

In the end, we were both allowed to have a portion of our childhoods back because, for three years at least, we both had a playmate who was willing to dig in the dirt and act like a little kid.

But as for the final goodbye, we chickened out. I’m glad we did because I don’t think I wanted anyone to see my emotions. Or hear the lump in my throat. I’m a grown man who was sending his friend off to his new life in a distant state. I should be able to handle this. I’ve done it before. I shouldn’t feel so selfish.

But I wasn’t being selfish. I was feeling bad for both of us. We were a good team; still will be, albeit over a distance. We had fun. And I guess that’s what I was mourning. The future fun that wouldn’t be had. Now, after my wife goes to bed, when I point up in the sky and say, “Wow, look! Venus is really bright tonight.” No one will be there to hear me.

I walked to my car and threw a final inane joke back to the group and through my rearview mirror I watched them get in the cab of the truck. I drove away quickly. If I saw the truck pull away, I’d know that my friend actually left. At least now my last memory of his time in St. Louis will be of him in his alleyway, rather than pulling away.

I turned the corner, with the early evening’s sun casting a golden light on the tree-lined drive. On the car stereo played “Bookends” by Simon and Garfunkel.

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; They're all that's left you

And those were the end credits to the buddy movie phase.