my father

I was getting off the ferry at 1 am, on my way home from louisiana where i had just the day before emptied a cheap plastic box of my father's ashes into the still waters of the lake behind his house. i had left memphis at 6 am the previous morning, and had slept about 5 hours in the past 3 days. as i turned the corner of the enclosed tunnel that leads from the ferry brow to the terminal exit i saw a man. he was stooped and old. jaw thrust out. drugstore bifocals perched on the tip of his nose. his hair was fine and brown and thinning yet parted perfectly and hairsprayed into place.  he wore a maroon velour track suit, with a hooded top thrown back. he wore white running shoes with white socks. he leaned upon an aluminum can and stared at me impatiently as i plodded up the walkway.  as i got closer he continued to glare at me, clearly annoyed. my footsteps slowed and i looked at him and started to speak.  the passenger behind me hissed noisily through his nose in frustration and accelerated around me. i picked up the pace, and as i got closer the man in the velour track suit looked away, over my shoulder. i turned the corner.  as i neared the automatic doors of the terminal exit i stopped and looked back, but my father was gone.