Walking

A short story about coming across the unexpected.

 I was walking down a path in the park. I hadn't seen a person on this path for an hour despite how nice the day was. At first I thought that was strange, but decided I could use these moments of solitude to get my mind in working order. So I kept walking, taking in the peacefulness of nature. The birds were singing, the squirrels were running around, and I could hear a few frog calls. The sun was in the middle of the sky and I had plenty of time to relax and unwind.

Then I saw the first person on this path for sometime. He was an older man who was sitting down in the clearing with a walking stick next to him. He was kind of an odd looking man, but looked like he could be your grandfather. As I got closer to him, he smiled and waved at me. I smiled and waved back, then he started to talk.

“Good afternoon. Nice day to go for walk, dont'cha think?” said the older man as if I knew him for ages.

“Yes it is. It's very peaceful out here.” I said stopping in front of him.

“Yes it is a peaceful day. God certainly blessed us with a nice day to enjoy. No rain, no clouds, not too hot, just right.” he said taking his walking stick and placing it beside him.

“Well I had better get going. You have a nice day.” I said to the old man starting to leave.

“Hold on there, young man. I think we have something to discuss.” said the old man now pulling himself up to his feet.

I kind of stood back for a second. I didn't know this man, and I have no clue what he wants to discuss with me. I wanted to run, but I didn't. Something about the old man put me at ease, but my guard was up.

“Look I don't know what you want, but I'm not interested.” I said trying to put some distance between myself and him.

“No need to worry, young man. I only want to discuss life with you.” the older man said with a smile. “I have a feeling that you need someone to talk to right now. Am I correct?”

He had my attention right there. How did he know I needed someone to talk to? There is no way he knows me, unless he's stalking me? I doubt that though. I wonder how much he knows?

“How did you know I needed someone to talk to? And why would I talk to you?” I asked him.

“Because I know things about you. I know what you almost did last night. I know what you did the night before, and I know what you'll do tonight.” the old man said to me as he walked next to me and held his arm out to say to keep walking.

“So what am I going to do tonight, and why is it important to me? I asked.

“Let's start at the beginning, shall we? Two nights ago, that woman, and you.” he said with a look of concern on his face.

“How do you know about that woman? Did she put you up to this? How did you know?” I asked him stepping in front of him.

He motioned me to keep going. “Like I told you, I know things about you. I know that woman, just not in the way, you're thinking. She's just as confused as you, and only wants to escape like you. You know there is more to life than the physical. You've always thought that.” he said to me.

“I don't get what this is about. What is it to you that I go out and get laid?” I asked him. He stopped for a moment shaking his head.

“You're not thinking clearly right now. You're hurting, I know this. It's not hard to see the pain in your eyes, and feel it coming from your soul. You're not that good at hiding your feelings.” the old man said while beginning to walk again. “My point here is you need to get your head on straight to see what you're doing. Then and only then should you be going out to look for a mate.”

“I'm sorry, but I have wants and needs. And right now I want to take care of my wants. And I still don't see why you should worry about it?”

“Yes, you do have your wants and needs. You will have plenty of time to take care of them when the time is right. Right now you need to get your life back in balance before you do anything else. You know what I'm talking about.” the old man said with a knowing glance.

He knows about my wife. This is impossible, but I think he knows that me and my wife have separated. I don't see how, but he's already told me more than I thought he would. That's a lost cause anyways, so I don't see why I can't go out and have my fun.

“How do you know about my wife? And if you're talking about me and her fixing our marriage, well that isn't going to happen. She doesn't want me back and I don't want her back either.” I said to him getting kind of upset.

“So much anger. If you two could just get past the anger, you might be able to work it out.” he said with another look of concern.

“Look it's a lost cause. Like I said neither one of us want to be with the other anymore.”

“If their was love there once, love can be there again. You just have to know where to look for it. However, she is not why I'm here.”

“Alright, so why are you here?”

“You almost did something last night that would have been very bad. You drank too much, held that knife to your wrist, and thought for a very long time, should I?” the old man said putting his hand on my shoulder. “Son, you really don't want to do that. It would be the worst thing you could do. You have so much left in life to do, and you can't end it now.”

I did do that last night. I had the knife to my wrist after drinking myself stupid. I even had the blade pressed down to the skin. All I needed was some pressure. I just didn't do it. I couldn't for some reason.

“I know you're hurting, and you're in pain. However taking your own life will not fix your issues.” he said.

“Well my issues aren't going to be fixed anytime soon. My wife is gone, I don't want her back, and everything is s**t right now.” I said starting to get angry.

“Once again, that anger. If you took your own life then what does that accomplish? If you die tomorrow, you'll never be able to see the people in your life again. Their will be NO chance to ever work anything out with your wife. Despite what you say, you do still care for her, as she still cares for you. Like I said, too much anger. Give it time. Give yourself time to find yourself again.” the old man said smiling again.

“So are you saying my wife and I will be getting back together?”

“I'm not saying that. What I'm saying is if you're gone, you'll never get that chance. You'll never get the chance to do many things you've always wanted to do.”

He makes sense. I don't know who this man is, or how he knows so much. But I think I want to know more.

“What happens tonight?” I ask him.

He sighs slightly looking down at the ground. “Tonight, you go home, finish that bottle, and finish your self.” he said looking incredibly older.

“So I kill myself? Is there anyway I can avoid this or is this set in stone?”

“Of course it can be stopped. It is all up to you. Everything is up to you in the end. You make your life with every choice you make, and every word that you say. It is all up to you when it's all said and done.” the old man said as he stopped as we neared the edge of park.

“Since you told me, I can prevent it, right? I just won't go home and kill myself. Sounds simple enough.”

“That's not how it works. When you get home tonight, you need to start fixing yourself. The first thing you need to do is get rid of the alcohol. After that you start working to make you a better you.”

“I think I can do that.”

“No you must do that, or you don't have any hope of making it through the night. And if you can make it through tonight, you'll survive this. I promise you.”

“What happens after tonight?”

“Anything you want, but you if do as I say, you'll make it through these dark times.”

“Well I think I can do that. I'll toss the alcohol when I get home. But you know you never told me who you were?” I asked him turning around to find no one there. “Where did you go?”

Where did he go? What was he? Who was he? Their was no way that old man ran off that quickly. He's just vanished into thin air. Was that all a figment of my imagination? I know I didn't drink that much last night. This is all very odd. I think I'll be heading home before anything else strange happens.

I head to my car and beside it is the walking stick that the man was using propped up against my door. I move it aside and put it in my car once I get the door opened. Now I'm really freaked out. I have no clue on what just happened or how that stick got there.

Someone had to have to just set it there. That was just a coincidence, I know it. That old man couldn't have just disappeared and that same stick couldn't have just appeared next to my car. Maybe I saw it on the ground when I got out of my car and someone put it there? That makes sense. More so than the incredible vanishing man.

So I drive the forty minutes home, thinking about what the old man said. I just keep thinking of everything that has happened and the other times that I've been down. I think of the other times that I contemplated killing myself and didn't. Then I think of all of the things I would have missed out on. Despite everything that my wife and I have been through. I'm still glad it happened. I'm still glad that I met her and fell in love with her.

Then I start thinking of her. I miss her laugh, and I miss the little things she used to do that drove me insane. I miss her next to me at night. We screwed everything up. I think it's beyond fixing now. It's been beyond fixing for sometime. Damn it, why did I have to start thinking about her. I was doing so good today. All of that is ruined now. I need a drink.

I pull up outside my house and start walking to the door. As I walk in, I can still smell her in the air. That little knot in my chest has returned and I walk straight for the refrigerator. Inside is a bottle of vodka. I take the bottle and set it down on the counter. I begin to reach for a glass, but instead I just take the bottle to my lips when out of the corner of my eye I see it. That walking stick is sitting on my couch. I do a double-take to make sure I'm seeing it and not imagining it. It's there though, even though I left it in my car. I carry the bottle of vodka with me over to the couch and pick up the walking stick. I then remember what the old man said about getting rid of the alcohol. I take two looks at the walking stick and and at the bottle in my hand. I then walk over to the kitchen sink and dump it down the drain.         

Reviews

[Gray Witch]

This feels like it was a necessary story to write - a 'moving on' work. Very well spoken and the perfect accompaniment to the first post. I realize this was written in your past but it so makes you real... I look forward to reading more. Thank you.

[Melissa Lynn Cox]

Thanks for writing this story. This story exemplifies how even though life is filled with disappointments, there are signs of hope everywhere if we will look for them. I thought it was clever of you to use a "walking stick" because it can symbolize hope for anyone without being obviously religious. By doing this, I think you reach more people. Stories like this help readers to look into themselves and see what needs fixing. Good job!