Within Close Range: Albert

Albert has scared the shit out of dozens of people over the years.

But he’s also been an integral part of our family since Mom first brought him home from California in the mid-seventies.

Ever since then, Albert just hung around. 

Year after year, after year, after year.

He’s originally from London, but he’s classic Scottish from the top of his thick, tousled hair to his argyle socks.

Always in Glen Plaid and corduroy.

He’s of average height; a gray-haired gentleman, with a full beard. (Both of which hint of their ginger youth.)

In the pocket of his kinsmen’s plaid jacket, for as long as we’ve known him, Albert’s always carried his pipe. 

He used to always have a battered, old, Prince Albert (his namesake) tobacco tin right beside this, but years ago, some sibling borrowed the rusty, bright red tin – likely to store their weed – and never returned it to the old man.  

Albert never said a word. 

But that didn’t surprise anyone. 

Even though he’s always surprising someone.

So still and silent.

You might find him sitting in the sun porch staring out at the lake, or lying beneath the covers of someone’s bed. 

He might be in the front seat of a car one morning, or on one of the patio chaises lounging under the stars, one night.

I often pass his familiar, frightening figure lingering in the shadows as I sneak through the house past curfew.

But Albert never tattles.

It simply isn’t in him.

He’s very predictable that way.

But he’s never who many think he is –  an uncle, a grandfather, an unsocial neighbor.

Just an ever-present sentinel. 

His light blue eyes fixed on the room. 

Out the window. 

On you.

Never blinking.

A bit unnerving.

But dependably docile…  and remarkably flexible. 

Even after years of being forced into the most unflattering positions for the sole entertainment of ourselves and others.

Creepy, I know.

But what can we do? 

Albert has been a source of amusement for decades. 

Certainly well worth the $200 Mom paid for him before the store manager lifted him out of the window display, packed him in a box, and sent him our way.