Essay on Summary Of ' Waiting For Zaire '
The library was quiet with patrons on the computers while some older folks were playing chess in the back corner. I scanned the spot for Zaire, but found no sight of him. Looking at my watch again, it read, 2:02p.m.
I’ll be damned. Zee’s actually late for lunch. I said to myself, wondering what they could have him doing.
It was only two minutes after, but when it came to time, Zaire was always exact. When he set a time, that’s when you’d see him. He was that precise.
“Waiting for Zaire?” The voice of Sandra, standing hunched over with a cane at the front desk asked me.
Last month when I saw her, Sandra was limping around and a month later she now had a cane. Sandra was about fifty-six years old and trying to move around like the young seasonal workers they had. The woman’s spirit was there, but her body was seriously catching up to her.
They always had swivel chair to sit in at the front desk. It was as if Sandra feared it. Like if sitting in the chair was like giving up on life. I always tried to tell her that resting wasn’t the same as quitting.
“Yeah, but I’m also waiting for you to finally relax.”
Sandra leaned in close, balancing on her cane.…