As the chatter in my head grew too loud and the walls of my house grew too close I was moved to take a walk. Along one of the various streets around my neighborhood I encountered a man, a stranger, though somehow familiar. He sat upon the sidewalk, wearing a light jacket and dark sunglasses. A subtle, yet cocky, grin formed upon his lips and I could tell he wanted to strike up a conversation. I was not really in the mood for a chat, so I waved at the man, averted my eyes to the asphalt, and walked faster to get the point across. The point was not taken by him.
“Are the dogwoods in bloom?” he said to me as I passed by.
Suddenly the chatter in my head stops and my mind is still. I stop and turn to the stranger.
“It’s not really the right time of year. Aside from that, the dogwoods haven’t really bloomed for years- there’s a blight.”
“That’s a shame. I have great mem….” he pauses as he speaks as if wishing to avoid tripping. He grins and lets out a sort of giggle as he stands up.
We regard one another for a while. One stranger to another, yet not in the sense of persons who do not know one another. This is another sort of strangeness.
“So…is this where you live?” He asks carefully.
“Yes, up the street from here.” It’s hard to know the right thing to say.
“It’s a lovely place. I would have loved to have lived here. Unfortunately, things just didn’t work out that way.”
“You did what you could.”
He looks at me with an heir of alarm and caution. “Careful. Can’t be too direct.” he says through a smirk.
We make a silent agreement to pretend to be strangers.
“Well, now what?” This is killing me, though the only voice in my head now is his.
“How bout a walk?”
The breeze is cool and the sky is a bit gray. We walk in silence for the most part, though we comment here and there about the weather and play a movie quote game.
“I haven’t walked this long in a long time. These hills are killer.” He sits down on the sidewalk and unbuttons his jacket. I stand over him. The sun is setting and he appears to be fading with the dimming day.
“Is this where I leave you? We haven’t even returned to where I found you.”
“I always happen to be where you find me.” He says through a sort of frown. He seems to have grown older, though I can’t quite tell how.
I look down on the ground at his feet, lost for words.
“Zack.”
I refuse to look up. He stands and walks toward me. He towers over me, just as he did in life. I look up at his face and he takes his sunglasses off. Behind them are revealed a broken soul lost for words.
“I miss you, son.”
Gone. The familiar stranger vanishes. I am left alone on the streets that intersect reality, memory, and fantasy.
“I miss you too, dad.”
I walk away. The chatter in my mind coming back, though whispering for now.
Greater Expectations 