I had sat in my room in the dark, feeling the cool summer breeze blow the screen in and out, in and out, along with the sounds of the neighborhood: a dog barking, a gate shutting, diesels grinding up the hill on the highway not far away. In the distance I would hear the sound of a motorcycle. The sound got louder and louder and closer and closer and I could recognize its unique cadence. Happy to know he was safe and home again.
Years later, completely and totally unexpected, in another house and in another neighborhood, I listened to a message and the very worst thing had happened. A few excruciating, harrowing days later, he died.