The peal of a bell drew me from my basement lair to answer the front door. A man wearing a yellow and blaze-orange vest stood a respectful distance back from the door, and said, “Hi; I’m Rob from AT&T.” I returned his greeting and listened as he explained the purpose of his visit.
I had noticed the little truck emblazoned with the AT&T logo parked in front of the house, and I saw a man walk up my driveway toward the garages in the back. I opened the back door to investigate where he might have been going but didn’t see him. I was not alarmed, though, and did not rush to my phone to post a “BE ON THE LOOKOUT-SUSPICIOUS” notification on my neighborhood’s social media page. I’ve lived with my daughter and granddaughter in one half of a double for 8 months, and though the street sees more traffic than the one where I spent the previous six years, I’ve had to exercise no more than standard, common sense caution.
Rob from AT&T explained that he needed access to my side of the basement in order to complete his service call to my neighbor in the other half of the double. On his earlier foray down the driveway, he had found a hole (one of many that my daughter has identified) that fed into the basement; he planned to snake a wire through the hole and connect it to the neighbor’s electricity. He politely asked my permission to do this and when I assented, he went back to the side of the building. I clomped into the basement where, on the white painted brick east wall, I saw a white wire snaking through a hole and down behind my portable closet. I pulled it up and placed it atop the closet. Upstairs, I heard Rob calling for admittance. He joined me in the basement.
Rob pulled the wire and looked for a way into my neighbor’s basement. I joked with him as he worked, telling him that he was lucky that I was home, and that my 20-month old granddaughter was not at home, and asleep. He was briefly startled, and quietly asked, “Is she asleep?” I laughed and told him that she was with her grandmother, but that I expected her home in a few hours. He relaxed, and I said that it was “a bit of magic” that I happened to be home at a time when he needed me to be there. He told me that, had I not been there, he would have had to pause the install, and have my neighbor coordinate with me for a future visit. He appended my comment by saying, “Every day has a little magic in it.” I watched as he worked (every trades-person’s dream, the “worker-watcher”) negotiating the beams and ductwork and thought about his rejoinder to my “magic” comment. As he peered into the dark spaces between the joists, he continued: “We just have to find it.” And I thought, “there it is.”
Rob from AT&T snaked a wire through the white, double-locked and padlocked door that separated my half of the basement from my neighbor’s, climbed my steps and walked away from me. I thought of finding little bits of joy, but as important, recognizing them. And in that regard, the serendipitous moment when a tradesman rang my bell to find me at home, waiting for my granddaughter, which enabled him to complete his daily duty, was perhaps, a bit of magic for him, but the brief encounter reminded me to recognize, once again, those magic moments.
cjon3acd@att.net