Spilling the (Iced) Tea

Stephen’s apartment, as he left it

November 30, 2004

Stephen Sprouse used to love iced tea. He drank it all the time, and whenever you went to visit him at his apartment, he'd have a big pint glass of it by his side, and be quick to offer you one too. He’d pour you a glass from a tea-stained pitcher before refilling his own. I was never sure which he loved more, the tea or the ice. For years, any time we went out to dinner, he would order a Coke, an iced tea, and an extra glass of ice.

He had an ice machine in his previous two apartments, but since he didn't have one in his last apartment, his freezer was filled with bags of ice from the corner deli.

The last time I saw him, he was preparing to leave for a long trip to Argentina, where he chose to spend much of his remaining time. I went to pick up the keys to his apartment. which I often did when he left town. The lung cancer had progressed, and he was visibly ill by this time, often out of breath from the smallest effort. It was easy to imagine it might be the last time I’d see him, though I didn’t want to believe it. While I was there, I asked if there was anything I could do for him before I left. He asked if I would run a few errands.

“Of course,”  said, "What do you need?"

Along with the usual things anyone would get for a month-long trip — batteries, a travel alarm clock, film, and so on — he asked me to buy him four large boxes of Tetley tea bags. Although I’d always known him to be a loyal Lipton customer, he specified Tetley. I didn’t ask why.

I picked up the film and then popped into the first supermarket I passed. The place was packed. The lines were long, and the aisles were crowded, and since it was unfamiliar, I was disoriented. I squeezed through aisle after aisle, turning up and down and in and around, searching for the tea section. When I finally found it, I didn't see any Tetley. I scoured the shelves, scanning back and forth, back and forth. Above all the fancy gourmet brands, on the very top shelf, sat boxes of Lipton. I knew that he used to drink it, and figured it would have to do. I stood twenty minutes in line, bought the tea, and headed back to Stephen's place.

When I arrived, I  pulled the boxes of Lipton out of the bag and explained I couldn't find any Tetley. He didn't say anything, but I could sense his disappointment. After a moment, he put the boxes back in the bag and said, "Do you want them?"

It turned out that he preferred Tetley because the tea bags weren’t individually wrapped the way Lipton tea bags are. He made so much tea that, with Tetley, he could grab a fistful of bags and toss them into a big pot of water without having to unwrap the paper around each Lipton bag.

"Oh, shit! Sorry." I said, kicking myself. I knew Stephen well enough that when he specified a specific item, there was always a reason and nothing else would do. "No, I don't want them, but why not keep them around the apartment as an emergency stash?"

He said that was a good idea and asked if I'd put the boxes in the cupboard for him. When I did, I saw that he already had four boxes of Lipton stashed away. Someone else must've gone through a similar ordeal. Seeing all that Lipton tea, I couldn't help myself and offered to go back outside to find the tea he wanted.

"Oh, cool," he said with a sigh of relief.

He knew exactly where I could find Tetly and named each specific aisle of two different stores, and then sketched me some maps. First, street maps of the stores’ locations, and then their respective floor plans, with a big black X to mark the spot.

That was the last time I saw Stephen. We spoke a few times while he was in Argentina, and he called me the day he returned to New York. I was sleeping when my phone rang, and I didn’t pick up, but I could hear his message on my answering machine as he left it. “Hi Jamie, it’s Steve.” He sounded excited to be back, upbeat and optimistic. “Let’s meet up.”

I wish I’d picked up the phone. By the time I got back to him, it was too late.

No, I didn’t keep the maps. I wish.