A Man Spying
I too like to go on walks intermittently, usually can be tracked by weather, I am always drawn to walks when its raining or misty outside. But unlike Sexson, I do not walk on a schedule or with companion; instead, I walk by myself, usually contemplating my life, my goals, my dreams. It is difficult for me to place an and or an or because my walks usually contain all, or two, or one, or none sometimes. I call the weather related walks, opportunity walks, while the thinking related are called situational walks, but almost always those too also embody one another. Getting back to the story, one spring ago in March I was walking to Cooper Park. I liked to sit on the bench there in solitude and think to myself. I usually did not walk to the park until late at night, but this time was different because I was in a situation where I had just quickly gotten off the phone with a good friend. We weren't always good friends however, no more than a week earlier we had been quite nearly the opposite. We had had an altercation that pushed out our eternal companionship to a mere acquaintance. I say eternal because that is what I perceived our relationship to be; however, she perceived things differently. And our contradiction led to accusation which led to isolation. Although our seemingly star-crushed relationship seemed to reach the end, we somehow came to our wits and decided to try and reestablish our previous connection. I explained my changed thoughts that had not really changed, and turned off that idea that we could be eternal, or even temporary. It was at this moment that I was walking to Cooper Park, my thoughts quite nearly encompassing my complete being, the act of being overwhelmed. My mental prison enclosed me nearly to the brink of my life when I realized that she had quite clearly had found someone else, although she never spoke it directly. I felt helpless and hurt, and in a deep depressive state was I when I walked to the dog Park that day. I remember the thoughtful street light that almost nearly seemed aware of my presence. I had observed this from my many walks before that almost instinctively the light would turn off or on (depending on its previous disposition) every time I was under its gaze. This time was no different, but I was worried for the light for whatever reason, was a second or so late. For that moment, I wondered if I had imagined it or even that because of my change of heart, it was often customary for me to be thinking of my friend when on my walks, that the light had forgotten me, or worse ignored me. But my thoughts were cooled, when that light brightened the damp city street. The treacherous ice was revealed beneath my feet, and for a moment I was no longer alone.I crossed the street with suspicion. Would the trees still tower over me as they always had? Would the park be empty as it always was? And most importantly, would the bench still give me that moment of solitude to divulge all those thoughts and ideas that until this moment did not exist? I walked precariously towards the lonesome structure, as it seemed to call out to me affectionately. The trail that I had always taken was carpeted with snow and I grazed my fingers across the trees as I walked by, as I could imagine a blind person might do against the wall in light of a redecoration of a familiar room. The feet brushed the snow up as I noticed for the first time that I was not alone. Across the park, very near where the sacred earth met the the border of civilization, there stood one boy joined by three others on bikes. I could not quite decipher what they were doing at the other end of the park because of the distance multiplied by my blurry vision, but they seemed to be engaged in something taboo out of their very aware actions. As I edged closer, unwilling to be noticed, I saw to my disgustion that the one boy standing was indeed urinating on one of the park trees. During my frequent trips to the park, I have much admired the trees and often wondered how long they had stood watch over the park. To me, the trees seemed to represent the watch guards or the historians of the park. How dare he defile these trees, I thought to myself, as I slipped closer and still unseen. It was not until I neared the bench that I realized that I had been noticed, and I was at once abashed with suspicious looks and looks of wondering as the boys ponder how I had gotten so close without catching their attention. Needless to say, the boy soon finished his "business" and him and the rest were on their way, much to my satisfaction. I now had the entire park to myself.
I scooted to the bench in silent exuberance. The bench welcomed me and almost at once wrenched me free from my mental prison and into complete solitude. Everything left me, and this is my only walk where I thought of nothing, almost how a sunset can end even the most famous and important days, no one realizes that that same sun also ends the most mundane and uninteresting ones too. It was then that I realized that I owned time, in a sense. For every minute of every hour that I spent on that blessed bench, the time was mine and could not be claimed for any one else under any circumstance. I breathed in every second and watched the world for a moment remained still and unchanged under my power. I smiled victoriously as I found peace in the solitude. Maybe that is why people pay so much for exquisite paintings, I wondered, how much would I pay to own a moment of perfection.
My thoughts were interrupted by a man's cough. At first, I had heard it distinctly, but almost immediately it vanished. For a minute, I questioned whether or not it even happened. I had searched 360 degrees around me, but to no satisfaction. Unfortunately, I had no physical property to attribute the sound. It was then that I purposed to question my own sanity, apparently it is only seeing that is believing and not at all for hearing. The instant that joke appeared and disappeared in my head, and a faint smile could be witnessed imposing itself across my lips, and a click-click noise could be audibly distinguished. However, this sound would not disappear as it repeated itself again and again. I traced the sound to the base of the tree behind me and at moved methodically up the tree searching for the sound source as it repeated itself click-click every few seconds. It was near the brim of the tree that I decided that the click-clicker was almost positively positioned. I stared into the darkness of the tree, attempting to mash the blackness into some sort of shape that I could identify...be it a bird, a bear, or an angel, I was determined to find the source of the destruction of my solitude. As my eyes burned bleakly into the depths of the pine, I was shocked to see a light emerge. A small flame, no more than an inch long was all at once displayed to me and in that moment I had realized that I had all along been watched. Maybe from the moment I entered the park, he watched me pause under the streetlight and he most assuredly stared at me as I spied on the mischievous boys and absolutely he watched me find peace on the bench. It was obvious to me now that indeed the click-clicker had all along been a man.
I hurried out of the park. I rushed past the lit street light that absolutely intentional went dim after I had passed. I ran back to my car in the parking lot, unlocking the door faster than I ever have before determined to be somewhere safe where I could think. My story ends here and begins here, for it was not for another month that I actually tried to place the man in the tree. It was on another day, it had rained, and I had wished to walk and I always got my wish. My walk had changed directly because of the strange man and also my perception changed of tall pine trees as I glared at every single one as I walked by. It was on this fateful, rainy night that I again seeked solitude. Unfortunately, my walk changes have not delivered a place as peaceful and likewise pleasing as the dog park had been. I tried the walkway I reached on Willson, and the vacant bench on the high trail, but no the place never appeased me. However, it was on this night where I walked in search of my next English 221 paper that a thought occurred to me. Is it possible that the tree spy and I had so much in common? My eyebrows furrowed as my mind perplexed the concept. What is was that I was searching for, I pondered, was...solitude. Is it possible that this man and I search for the same? The thought rushed over me and every part of my body from my feet to my hands seemed to tingle with the answer, YES OF COURSE!! they cried. As I had successfully reversed my thought, I physically reversed my direction, to go back to the bench, and back to the park. The ground seemed to push my feet faster forward and my breath quickened with my pace. What if he is there?, I thought as blocks of sidewalks passed swiftly behind me. Even the cars and people seemed to get out of my way, as the streets before me were immediately evacuated and were barren as I tread upon them. Even the light seemed to understand my expedition, as it solemnly went dark as I jotted underneath it. It was then that I stood before the bench, whom I had missed terribly, and I stared with defiance and sympathy at the tall pine in front of me. The tree towered, as all the others did, over me and reached ominously into the starless sky. I looked at the place where the man had been, the spy, and smiled. I then lowered my head and bowed to him and the tree that was his home, and then I sat down on the bench that was mine.
It is quite possible that the man wasn't there, or would ever be again, but I like to think to myself that he was there. And I like to think that when he saw me and saw what I did, he smiled back at me and returned the bow.
