A Stranger

Just a moment I observed whilst working as a receptionist at a retirement facility.

The gentle ticking of my wrist watch marks the passing of the hour. The seconds trickle slowly away and I will time, that it would fly and free me from this place. But I have no authority over the hour, no more than I have power over the weights slowly dragging down my limbs. Like dust in the floorboards, fatigue settles into my bones and pulls at my eyelids. It seems to gather on the arms of the clock as well. They have appeared to slow even as I watch. Tick. Tick. Tick. Time passes. I sigh.

A slight change in air pressure alerts me to a door opening and I look up. I am somewhat startled to find myself looking into the keen, dark eyes of a young man. He walks as though in a dream, his steps hang in the air as he drifts soundlessly towards me. He stands before me as if he is not there, as though he were an apparition, or merely a figment of my imagination. There is something not quite solid about him, as if any moment he might remember that he does not, in fact, exist at all. His dark hair is cut short, smoothed back in an old fashioned sort of way, and his clothes are about ten years behind the times. His smooth face is handsome, though not in an obvious sort of way. No wrinkle interrupts the plain of his forehead or creaks around his mouth. He is young, though exactly how young I could not tell you. He holds himself with the self-assured air of a gentleman, something I am not used to in this day and age. He stands and regards me with such a sharp gaze that I find myself shifting uncomfortably behind my desk.

Casually, he rattles off the name of one of the residents that he has come to visit. The words tumble from his mouth like a breath of wind. I nod. I know the resident. She has never had a visitor for the many years she has been there; I’ve heard one of the nurses say so. I direct him to her room and he asks me if she is in good health. I tell him that yes, she is in as good of health as a ninety three year old could be in and he gives me a world weary smile, all sideways and heavy. It ages him in a way that I could not explain, but in such a profound way that I feel I must try. His eyes seemed to dim for a moment, like that point in the afternoon when the sun relinquishes its hold on the day and begins to sink towards the horizon. His frame seems to sag, like he had forgotten he was carrying a heavy bag and suddenly remembered. In the span it takes to draw breath he seems to have gained ten years. To an unobservant eye, they might not have seen it; but I notice. He thanks me and walks with heavy tread out the door and into the hall.

He is gone for two hours, and I have almost forgotten about him when suddenly, he appears equally abruptly and silently as the first time. He has gained a certain amount of solidity that he lacked before and I see him wholly for the first time. There are lines on his face and ten more years upon his shoulders. There is a certain weariness about him, much different from the one that weighs me down. Somehow, while I observe his exhaustion; my own lifts. I ask him how his grandmother is, and he gives me a searching look that cuts right through the midday air. Then he nods suddenly, as if remembering something and tells me that she is doing as well as can be expected. I nod and return to my work. He asks me suddenly if I noticed how clear the afternoon air way. I had. He points out a bird in a tree and wanders out the front door without so much as a backwards glance.

The gentle tick of my wristwatch beats out the rhyme of the passing of time. This stranger seems to have taken some of my weariness with him through the door as suddenly my eyes are not so heavy. I glance down at my wrist watch. Tick. Tick. Tick. Time passes. I sigh.

Reviews

[Matthew Soliguen]

I like the wave of mystery around the stranger. It's his grandmother, but what would have made him remember her? Why now? What did he say, and what made his oh so weary? Truly the mystery spans questions that only the reader may give a conclusion to. Very amazing. A stranger indeed.

[Eric Cavazos and Lauren..]

Very vivid descriptions. While reading your story I felt like I was actually there, experiencing the passing of time. I like how you took something that may seem commonplace and mundane, but transformed it into a profound story.