I think he’s dead. I don’t know for sure. I hope I’m wrong. What I do know is that he is missing. Not knowing what has happened to my friend has me in a quandary, so perhaps you’ll understand if I switch between speaking of him in the present and past tense.
In the years since we’ve been platonic friends, Kenny G – my nickname for him – rarely missed sending me a card for my birthday, Christmas, and other special occasions; or phoning me every few weeks just to keep in touch. For him not to send a Christmas Card or call me last month to say “Happy New Year!” was very unusual.
Although we attended the same high school — he was a few years ahead of me — and grew up blocks apart, we never actually met until 21 years ago; and over time we learned that we knew some of the same people from school and the old neighborhood.
The last time I saw Kenny G was a few weeks after his birthday last October, when he stopped by my home and visited for about half-an-hour with my beau and me. Before leaving he hugged me, shook hands with him, and said “See ya’ later.” to us. That was four months ago. Since then I have left several messages on his phone — the calls went straight to voice mail — and sent notes to his last known address, but received no reply.
Recently, while scrolling through my cell phone messages I discovered that