Keith called that man The Blue Man. Not because he was blue. Or because he was the actual blue man. But because his house was blue. There were many blue houses in the world. What made this blue house memorable to Keith was that his garden was so immaculate. Small, but perfectly organized. A tool shed that was out in the open. Kind of like a convertible car. Rather than the usual enclosed toolsets people kept in their garage.

He was still thinking about what the man had said on his walk. He had just woken from a nap and that was the first thing that came to mind. It was the middle of the day. Hot. Humid. That man. The Blue Man made him feel more connected. Not just to this place, but also to Marianna and Cal.

He never got Max's number. People didn't exchange numbers these days. They found each other on 

social media

. Keith had no accounts. Wasn't planning to make one. He couldn't find Marianna anywhere. He found Cal. But he hadn't posted in over 18 months.

The plan right now was to keep going to that bar. And the diner. Eventually he would be able to have a long and good enough conversation with Max where he could ask him for his number. Even though trading phone numbers wasn't a 'thing' these days, people would still do so when it felt right. Keith just had to be the right person.