A security guard at the estate where I live.
Jan loves jazz. He wears a shiny black cap on sunny days. He always rubs his hands together and nods when he greets people. He is tall and lean. Gangly with a caramel complexion. Serious eyes peer at me from their wrinkled cases. But he very rarely smiles.
We greet each other every day. He rubs his hands and nods. I can hear his strong accent.
“Have a nice day.”
One day, I was on my way home from university. I was playing some jazz music in my car. I arrived at the estate gate and rolled down my window to greet Jan. Suddenly a wide toothless grin burst onto his face.
“You like jazz?”
“I LOVE jazz Jan!! Do you like it too?”
“I do! I do!”
When I arrived at the gate about two days ago, I was playing jazz music in my car again. I saw that Jan was on duty and turned the music up. I rolled down my window.
“Here’s some jazz music for you Jan!!”
And there he stood. Smiling that rare smile.