‘What the hell are you doing here?’ The old man groaned, prodding a knurled finger into the chest of the one-eyed octogenarian. He was certain the other man hadn’t been sat there when they’d first arrived and glared up at his caregiver for confirmation before turning back.
One-eye scowled, batting at the liver-spotted hand, ‘Me? What are you doing here?’
‘This is my time. I always come here when it’s my time,’ he waved his arms at the busy street in display of ownership and yelled to no-one in particular: ‘Isn’t that right?’
And no-one replied except the two ravens nesting in the willow tree, who squawked with indifference.
‘You’re early. Tomorrow’s your day, it’s mine today.’
The old man snorted, ‘I may be old but I can still tell the time. Today’s Thursday – my day!’
One-eye laughed and stroked his white beard, ‘today’s Wednesday, you daft coot.’
Lighting flashed across the sky. The business cattle paused momentarily and turned to the darkening sky, lattés forgotten. Some opened umbrellas, pulled coats tighter around them. All ignored the two old men sitting in their wheelchairs beneath the willow branches.
‘Now, now, you best kerb that temper of yours. How are you so certain that today’s Thursday?’
The old man thought for a moment certain it was another of One-eye’s tricks.
‘Well, I had a doctor’s appointment on Monday – weekly check-up. Tuesday was my bingo day, I’m not that bothered myself but you know how many hotties turn up for bingo,’ he winked at One-eye, forgetting himself. ‘Wednesday, my test results came back and I was at the doctors again, so today must be Thursday.’
‘Except that it’s Wednesday.’
The old man almost leapt from the wheelchair and shrieked at the caregiver, ‘give me my hammer, boy! I’m going to crush his skull.’
The caregiver’s hand was on his shoulder pushing him back down into the seat, ‘settle down, Mr Thor.’
‘Do what your keeper tells you,’ One-eye chuckled. ‘This won’t be helping your blood pressure.’
‘I’ll give you blood pressure,’ Thor struggled against the grip, reaching for the bag he knew contained the hammer.
‘Mr Thor, calm down,’ the caregiver shot One-eye a look. ‘Same goes for you, Mr Odin. You don’t want me to call your wives, do you?’
The two elderly gods knew better and shook their heads.
‘Good. We all thought you’d benefit from this little outing. You’ve been at each other’s throats for so long. It’s having a bad effect on the rest of the residents.’
‘Aye…suppose we have,’ Odin sighed and turned back to Thor, ‘what do you say we just sit here a spell?’
‘Can’t see the harm,’ Thor said shaking free from the hand. ‘I just want to know one thing…what day is it?’
The caregiver grinned and scratched at his blond locks with his stump.
‘It’s Tuesday,’ Tyr said. ‘My day.’