Brownie

One day I decided to take a stroll down Main Street. I was having a bit of a headache that day and I wanted to get some fresh air. I didn’t think too much of it, I just wanted to relax at Fairy Lake or something like that. The sun was shining today and it wasn’t too cold to go for a walk in the trails. All the elderly people were out and all the teenagers were on their bikes and all. There’s always that sweaty try-hard cyclist too, with all the gear and a really expensive bike and he’s always going super fast down the road and stuff. I didn’t have an opinion of them, really. Sometimes they were cool to see and sometimes I hated them for no frickin reason at all.

I didn’t feel like calling up anyone, or talking to anyone, for that matter. I didn’t feel like calling Sydney, my girlfriend, even if she wasn’t that busy and today was the perfect day to hang out. And I for sure didn’t feel like calling my sister Evie. We had this huge argument right before she left for university I haven’t forgiven her for. Perhaps I’d never feel like calling her again, and that thought made me frickin depressed. I’ll answer when she calls, I kept telling myself. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Maybe she needs time to cool off. I do too, maybe. That’s what I was doing right now.

So, I was walking around Fairy Lake, and I really didn’t feel like talking to anyone. But there’re so many friendly people where I live, and if they’re old, it’s like a bonus chance they’re going to want to chat with you. I saw a lot of em, too, and they always had something to say to me. Maybe it’d just be a casual hello, or something about how great the weather was today. I’d always smile back but it made me feel really frickin corny and fake because I wasn’t sure if I was genuinely smiling back myself or doing it just to please them. I always try to act nice around elderly people because they always want to be happy and they don’t really want to take your depressed moodiness frickin nonsense and that type of stuff. They’re old and they have a lotta life experience and they think the unhappiness of the young is so petty and all. Like, not everything has to be so serious. I get it, I do, but sometimes there’s no way to get you out of feeling really down sometimes, ya know? 

I saw a little kid with a teddy bear, holding his mom’s hand. He was clutching it tightly with one tiny arm. He reminded me of my own teddy bear I used to have. His name was Brownie. He’s a real good teddy bear, I’ll tell ya, he’s a medium-sized one, not too big, not too small. He was my whole world back in those days, I couldn’t go anywhere without him. Great, now I sorta miss him. That’s what nostalgia frickin does to ya, I swear.

I chose a good bench to sit down and admire the autumn colours and leaves. It’s frickin basic to find pleasure in these kinda things but right now I didn’t really care that much, I sorta felt like resting for the rest of the afternoon. The punk kids and their bicycle gangs could look at me with funny faces if they want. I had a hoodie on with the hood pulled over, some sweat pants, and my hands were in my hoodie pockets. I must’ve looked like a jogger who chose to rest or something, to look at nature, even though these were pretty much my regular clothes. My hood kept my ears warm though, and it made the wind not really bothersome at all.

As I sat there I didn’t really think about anything. It’s strange. For once I didn’t have a single thought on my mind, I simply chose to enjoy the scenery. Some ducks were quacking all funny-like in the pond. A whole family of them swimming around and stuff. Some people were feeding them bread crumbs, like the old people, which was pretty frickin basic but I didn’t mind it for once. There were two geese to the right, near the waterfall part of the pond which went under the road. It’s funny, you see. There was one time I was here, it was a long time ago on a Wednesday, when I was taking the bus home from high school and I saw a funny little goose standing near the edge of the waterfall while I was waiting for the next bus. It’s not too tall of a waterfall, you see, it’s only about a couple of metres of a drop, not too big. It’s big enough to have a bit of a roar though, but it’s not bothersome when you’re here, you don’t really notice it much unless you focus on it. Anyways, so this single goose fella was standing near the edge while the white water roared past him. He was standing there so closely, it kinda scared me, to some sort of extent. It really frickin did. I was thinking about the goose and what he was thinking and all. Why he came to this consideration of the conclusion of his life. He wasn’t moving around too much. In fact, he was standing there pretty still. He wasn’t even moving his head, and he was staring off in the distance, at the cars passing by on the road I think, I don’t know. He had to have been contemplating about his life. Maybe he was thinking about some past choices he regretted, or maybe how he couldn’t save his little goslings at some point in his life. Maybe he had lost his loved one or was starving to death because he barely got any food last winter, whatever the frick geese eat. And because of all that, he was thinking about jumping, while the water pushed past his feet and all. The waterfall roared down below and splashed in a bunch of whiteness, and perhaps he was thinking that would do it for him, that would be a good fate. And the whole time I was sorta thinking in my head, “Don’t jump, goose!” I mean, I didn’t know the fella’s name, or his backstory, or who he was, but that was the only thought in my head at the time. I couldn’t have possibly known what the goose was feeling at that time, as I had just met him, but in my heart, I was already telling him not to jump. In fact, I was thinking about calling it out to him, but then I would have looked like a frickin weirdo. God, what society does to ya. 

Then, I was thinking about me and all. About how I’d never met this bird yet I felt so responsible for his life. I felt so obligated, so compelled to have him survive, putting his life in the jar of things I valued as if it was my business.

I never got to see the goose jump. If he ever did, for that matter. My bus came before he made any decision to move, and I was forced to never see the end of his story. I could be crazy, ya know. I could’ve just been imagining the whole scenario. The bird was just chilling at the edge of the waterfall, nothing much to it. He was resting, maybe drinking some water, and then he was going to fly away. Maybe go find some food. Maybe go back to his family, happy to see him. The thing is, I’ll never know, and that makes me really sad. 

“The geese are really annoying when they’re loudly honking, eh?”

I turned to see who spoke to me. My hood kind of blocks my vision to my left and right, which is good so people don’t really see my face and I don’t have to see theirs either, but it’s restricting when you don’t want it to be. It was an old man that had walked in with his cane, sitting at the other end of the bench. 

“Honk! Honk! It gets on your nerves sometimes when you’re trying to enjoy the scenery. Makes you wonder what they’re all so mad about.” 

The old man laughed a strong, hearty laugh. He was being nice, really. But I always never knew what to say back to old people like him. For one, because I didn’t really care much of the time about what they had to say, and two, I never really feel like talking to strangers. I liked my peace. But I couldn’t refuse. The old man could be lonely, for all I knew.

“Yeah,” I said. “They’re funny. But sometimes they can be cute and all, too.”

“I agree, young man. I always go here with my wife, but right now she’s busy doing something else,” he said. He had one of those reverent smiles that showed he was a laid-back person. He was here to chill and talk to the youngsters and not really think about any problems. “She loves the autumn leaves, you know. She loves autumn in general. I always smell the pumpkin pies she bakes in the kitchen, and that’s when I know the leaves have started to fall.” He chuckled again. I didn’t want to be rude, so I did a little huff out my nose, audible just enough for him to hear.

Suddenly, for no frickin reason at all, I really wanted to get out of that moment. There was no easy way to escape it, too. I also kind of hated myself because the old man was really nice and I didn’t have any real problems with him at all, honest. It was just me. Maybe it was a feeling of corniness or my hatred for small-talk, but I simply had the urge to leave the bench and go somewhere else. 

That’s the thing with strangers, ain’t it? You always feel like doing something like going somewhere else, and usually, it’s not even remotely related to them as a person, but you wonder if they’re gonna take it personally and it’s embarrassing. What I mean is, you’re sitting at a bus, okay, and you’re next to a woman or something, and it’s a packed bus. Then, at the next stop, a bunch of people get off and there’s a whole lot more space, but you and the woman are the only ones that stayed. Suddenly you have the urge to find a new seat or something, away from the woman. But you think she might get offended or something, and you really don't want that, so you stay in your seat. And it’s awkward because there’s a lot more room now and you are still sitting next to each other like you’re together or something. Like that’s what new people who come to the bus will think. You don’t even hate her, you just don’t want to be near her, if that makes sense. No, it really doesn’t, does it? It makes no frickin sense. 

That’s what I felt right now with the old man. I didn’t have the brainpower to think of lighthearted things to say back to him, which, I don’t know if you know, takes a lot of energy when talking to old people. I just wanted to rest, that’s all. All of a sudden this stranger was intruding on my peace and I never asked for it. And now I wanted to leave.

I didn’t, though. He’s like the woman you sit next to at the bus. You don’t have the heart to do so, you don’t have it in you to hurt them like that. I mean, what business do you have to personally attack them like that? It’s really frickin weird, I know, but that’s just how it is. 

“How long have you lived here with your wife?” I asked. Not really aiming to get much out of it, just wanting to continue the conversation so there wouldn’t be that frickin silence all people in the world hate and want to get rid of. At the same time, I wanted to get some sort of sense of how old he was, something I was sorta curious about.

“Why, my whole life!” said the old man. “My wife and I have lived here since forever. We’ve travelled the world in our younger days, but we’ve called this town home ever since we were born. I’m around 50,000 years old, I’d say. Sometime’s it’s hard to remember, but it’s easier with all these new phones and gadgets we have around nowadays. My wife’s around the same age.”

I didn’t mean to have any expression when he said that figure, but I must’ve had some slight surprise on my face because he looked at me and chuckled. “When you get to my years young man, you don’t have too many problems other than you’re getting too old to do much.”

“I’ve never met a 50,000-year-old,” I said. I’m not sure, but I think I stuttered when I said it. It got me thinking and all. Thoughts began to race through my head and that was when I began to barely listen to him. I felt sullen all of a sudden. It was a strange feeling. Sort of like, I really needed to get out.

“You’ll meet all sorts of people in your life,” he said. “I’ve met a lot of folks much younger than me, a lot of folks my age, and a lot of folks a lot, lot older than me. Mind-boggling sometimes how old they are, too. Young man, are you okay? You look kind of pale, and you’re shivering a bit. Is it too cold for you today?”

“I…” I was shaking, the old man noticed it before me. But I wasn’t that cold, really. “I… I really need to go. I forgot I had something important to do, I’m sorry. It was a great talk mister, I have to go! It’s nothing personal sir, I just forgot something and my mom might get mad!”

I shivered a bit more as I got off the bench and left. I felt the breezy wind howl in my ears. (Blowing harshly.) The geese around the pond were honking, and I understood what the old man had said about them now. (Honking loudly.) Both were equally annoying and I really needed to get out. I needed to move somewhere else. (Moving quickly.)

I entered the trail into the park and started walking faster. I was surely trembling at this point, and I pushed my hands into my hoodie pockets even deeper. I didn’t know where I was headed, maybe home. I wasn’t sure at that moment. I just really needed to move, to get out.

Kids on their bicycles passed me by. There were a few joggers. A lot of adults were walking their dogs. I guessed the age of each of them. The kid who said, “Hi!” to me on his tiny bike that still had training wheels. One hundred. The little girl with her ice cream who told me she wanted to be a dancer when she grew up. Three hundred. 

The punk teenager kids who biked in groups and laughed very obnoxiously. Seven hundred, seven hundred fifty maybe. The pretty college student with her latte appreciating the trees. One thousand. The fit man who jogged by in sports clothes, who looked like he was barely even breaking a sweat. Four thousand. 

The mother and her two kids walking their golden retriever. Five thousand, then maybe five hundred each. The man with his sunglasses on his phone, with his german shepherd on his leash urinating on every known tree in existence. Seven thousand, maybe eight. 

My heart was beating faster. I only noticed it now, only because it was so loud in my head. My head? Why could I hear it all the way in my head? I didn’t know. But it caused me to start breathing faster. I wasn’t walking that fast and I already felt out of breath, like I was heaving in my chest for air. I couldn’t stop, I had to keep going.

The couple with their heads on each other’s shoulders and their hands together. Ten thousand, maybe twenty. Their bodies were still good enough to travel the world, but if they didn’t start now they’d never make it. The old woman throwing some crumbs at the ducks with the biggest grin. Thirty thousand to forty thousand. Cutting it close to travel the world, but the window was still open. Maybe she’d be okay by herself, or maybe she’d need help from her children to carry her luggage or help her upstairs. But still possible.

Then finally, I thought of the old man I talked to back at the bench. Fifty thousand. He was reaching the truly old years, but his mind was still intact. He could probably still understand the algebra equations I do in school. But maybe he wouldn’t know what cryptocurrency was.

I stopped to take a rest near another bench. Another old man was there, but I didn’t take a good look at him. I hadn’t even been running, but I felt as exhausted as if I had. I was still breathing heavily and I needed a rest.

“What’s wrong, son?” said the old man. He was in a wheelchair, not on the bench, I realized. “It’s a cool day today, but make sure you get enough water if you’re going to be exercising.”

“I will, sir,” I said, panting and hunching over on the bench. 

He laughed. “Don’t you forget it! I don’t want you getting too tired by yourself out here.”

We were under the shade of the trees, where we were. The sun’s beams came in filtered by the leaves, and the breeze felt cooler here. I heard some kids playing and laughing in the close distance to my left, where the trail opened up to a big field. I saw more elderly couples walking towards us to my right.

The old man exhaled, having a flat grin on his face as he stared at our surroundings. Then he lightly chuckled. “You’re the most exciting thing a hundred-thousand-year-old like me has seen in a while. Running around like you’ve got no time! You’ve got lots of time, son. No need to rush everywhere, take your time. Slow and steady wins the race.”

I felt it again. This time, it struck me harder. A sense of dread so sharp and painful it shook me to the core. A mighty wave of listlessness so tall that I didn't think I could ever make it back to shore. I asked him, “Sorry. What did you say, sir? How old did you say you were?”

“Oh, nothing much. A hundred thousand years old, if I recall. Hard to remember things when you’re this old, even when you’ve just said it.”

He laughed again. It was a wholesome laugh, really. But something about it really frickin creeped me out. I don’t know why. 

“I gotta go, sir,” I said, getting up. “I have something to get at the grocery for my mom, you see. I’ll take your advice and not run too fast. I have lots of time, true. But I need to get there quick, I don’t want to be late either. See ya!”

The man waved goodbye with a smile and I dashed out of there. My heart was beating really fast now, and I thought it was going to explode. The rush of air was very cold going in and out my nose and mouth, and my ears were burning. I must’ve looked strange, perhaps a mess, and I was glad I had my hood on so I could keep less of a profile.

Everywhere I looked, as I went further down the trail, the people got older. There were barely any kids, joggers, or moms and dads walking their family dogs anymore. There were only old couples with their canes or wheelchairs, clutching each other for dear life. They kept coming and coming and I didn’t know when they would end.

I saw an old woman with glasses who had a scowl on her face as she walked hunched over, hands behind her back. She claimed to be 200,000 years old. I met an old man who didn’t have teeth, walking with his wife. He was around 300,000 years old. 

I kept pushing on. When was this trail going to end? My heart was still speeding up, with no signs of stopping, and I was beginning to get desperate. I began to wonder why I didn’t bring Sydney, or why I didn’t try to call Evie. Or ask Miguel to go biking with me, or get Ryan to bring a soccer ball. Or invite my mom to go walk with me, or my dad to play golf at St. Andrews, which was very close to our house. Instead, I was all alone and all I felt was dread. My mouth was dry and all I tasted was the dryness.

Another couple said hi to me as I walked by, thinking something was wrong with me when they saw me. Perhaps trying to be nice to me in case I was having a bad day. Frickin me just stopped and asked how old they were. Around 400,000, the both of them, they said. I left after hearing that. I didn’t even say goodbye to them when I continued on. They must’ve been very confused behind me, I could imagine. Another old woman in her scooter. She was friendly to me too and said she was about 500,000 and that she was very glad to be halfway to a million. I said, “Ma’am, that’s not an achievement,” like a frickin jerk and moved on. Her heart could have been crushed and maybe she’d fall ill after but I would be too far gone already to be concerned about it.

The trail had an uphill incline onwards. The longer I stayed here, the worse I felt. I had to get home. I was extremely exhausted, yet my muscles felt energized. I was breathing hard, yet I felt like I could run all the way home. More old couples were coming my way. Frick it all, it seemed like they were all coming my way. I didn’t see any going my direction.

Another old couple. These two were small, and they said they were immigrants. They’ve moved here since they were really little and have loved it here ever since. I asked them how long ago was that. They gave me a year that told me they were about 600,000. I tried to smile before I left but it must’ve been a frown. The next two were fairly tall for their age, and they didn’t hunch over. They said they liked to live a very healthy lifestyle, and the man was even wearing some jogging clothes. Yet something about their faces gave away that they were extremely old. Perhaps about 700,000. I kept going. Faster and faster.

An old man with a lot of hair still, more than even some balding adults. He said he was 800,000 years old. I tried to come off as reverent to such a mighty number, but perhaps I came off as disgusted. I don’t know because I walked past him as fast as all the rest. Then there was an old woman who was dressed nicely, but her face was so wrinkled and her eyes so slim that there was no way she could have been less than 900,000 years old. We didn’t say a word to each other and we both moved on. I didn’t think she even could say a word to me. I walked even faster.

More and more I saw people. More and more I panicked. I saw them all, men and women, walking or scootering or ambling with a cane. And each one increased my level of panic. I felt like I was dying. I was wondering when it was all gonna end.

Then I saw him.

As if all the noises around me stopped abruptly, my mind was clear. Seeing him so calm and serene gave me my own sense of tranquillity and safety. He was on a wheelchair with a bunch of other men and women, fairly old themselves, around him an open field. They were all dressed in white, every last one of them. It must have been some sort of family reunion or photoshoot. But they were finished and gave the atmosphere that strangers were allowed to use the field now and walk here.

The man that I saw was so old, so tiny, so frail, that it somehow distracted me from all my dread. His wrinkles were uncountable and you couldn’t even see his eyes. He had tiny traces of hair on his mostly bald scalp, incomplete pieces here and there. I slowly walked up to him. Another very old man was behind his wheelchair, smiling at me.

“Hello,” he said. 

“Hi,” I said. 

The old man in the wheelchair didn’t react to my arrival. He wasn’t moving nor looking, yet something told me that he was fully awake. Something eerily told me that I shouldn’t be here too, but I was too curious. 

The man behind his wheelchair saw me staring at him and said, “This is Juno. He’s blind and deaf, so don’t be sad if he doesn’t interact with you. He can still feel and understand what’s going on, for the most part.”

I knelt in front of him. He was so small that I was almost the same height as him. Blind and deaf? I couldn’t believe it. “How are you related to him?”

“I’m Henry, his great-great-great-great-great… ah, forget it. There’s no way I’d remember. But he’s my ancestor. Who’s still alive.”

Juno’s hand was reaching out for something. It took me a while before I realized it was for me. Somehow, he must’ve sensed that he was meeting someone. I gripped it in return. He had a strong grip for an old man, however, it had that small, uncontrollable shake that all of them did. And he didn’t let go. I looked up at Henry. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“Me?” He looked genuinely surprised. Perhaps people were never interested in him much, now that he was an old man. “I’m in the 550,000’s, I’d say. Can’t remember the exact digits when you’re this old.”

I nodded. He knew what I was going to ask next. I felt the same sense of dread earlier, creeping back up my throat. I cleared it a few times. It must’ve seemed like I had a sore throat or something. The thing is, I was really afraid to ask the next question. So afraid that I might have not even done it, really. But he was frickin waiting for me, and I knew it. People must’ve asked him this all the time. So I exhaled and looked at the old man one last time.

Oh, God. Blind and deaf. 

“And how…” I began, “how old is he?”

Henry didn’t answer right away. At first, he looked around at all his family members in the field. “All the men here are his direct descendants, you see. We have his direct son, and then his grandson, his great-grandson, his great-great-grandson, and so on. They’ve all come here with their families, if they still have any, including me. Also, we’ve only got all the grandsons that could come, or that could still make it, or that are still sane. If we had his entire paternal descendant lineage here, this field would be too full.”

Henry looked back at me. “They’ve all come here to celebrate something huge. Old Juno’s birthday, a big milestone. The party’s been over for a while, so no one’s really paying attention to him anymore, which is why I’m alone here with him. But all his grandsons coming together to recognize such a huge achievement, it’s great, isn’t it? Many were surprised, too. Some didn’t even know about Juno, some didn't even know he existed. But connecting isn’t too hard when you live in today’s age, I’m sure you understand that.”

I nodded, dreading his answer.

“So that’s why most of the people here didn’t really guess his true age correctly. They all thought he was a million years old, you see. Many people have a huge party for the age. The ones that are happy about it, at least. Old Juno here? He’s actually ten million.”

After that, something rang in my ears so loud I couldn’t hear anything else he had to say, if he said anything else at all. I stared at Old Juno’s face, right in front of mine. Blind and deaf. He was still gripping my hand, but I felt it getting tighter. Then it began shaking. Even more than before.

He was shaking his head side to side. His mouth was curved downwards so far, and he was in a state of deep sadness, I could tell. He was beginning to frickin creep me out. His grip got tighter than I ever thought it could, and he began wailing like a person who had something messed up in their brain. 

“Ungghhh, ungghhh!” he screamed, shaking in his chair as if he wanted to get out. He got louder and louder. Some people were beginning to notice. 

“Juno? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Henry was trying to calm me down. I was trying to get my hand out of Juno’s, but he really had a good frickin grip on me. He really did! And I knew I had to leave. Now. I had to get out of there as fast as I could. 

“Ungghhh!” Juno continued to wail. His mouth was quivering, his eyes were still shut, and he was now shaking violently and uncontrollably. Henry was shouting for help, trying to restrain him from hurting me, trying to calm him down. I was beginning to get desperate. I pulled my arm with all my strength. It felt like forever until my hand finally slipped from his. He grasped at the air as if he was looking for something to hold again. It made me frickin depressed, but I had to get out of here. This time, more than ever.

I ran as soon as his family members began rushing to him. I ran faster than I ever did in my entire life. I was huffing and puffing like a madman, rushing past confused people. They didn’t understand a single thing. They didn’t, they really didn’t! I could still feel my hand burning from the old man’s grip. Almost like I had escaped death. 

I was running home. I didn’t even know where I was going, but I knew I had to get there, and I would run until I would find it. No matter how much I frickin wanted him out of my head, I began to think about Old Juno. Ten million years old. Blind and deaf. I thought about how painful all those years must have been to suffer being blind and deaf like him. For ten million years straight he could not see the faces of any people nor hear the words of any of his family. For ten million years he could not see a bright and beautiful rainbow after a fresh drizzle, nor hear the humble buzzing of a tiny bumblebee. For ten million years he could not see or hear or perceive the outside world, and all he was left with were his thoughts. All he could do in his life was think. For ten million years.

And think for what? Think about the nonexistent things he could see or hear? Think about the nonexistent faces of his loved ones, or the nonexistent laughter of his precious children? What could he imagine? New colours that his mind couldn’t have possibly known existed? New sounds that he would never get to experience? What could a blind and deaf man do with his thoughts for ten million years? What could a blind and deaf man still live for after suffering for ten. Million. Years!

I kept running. Faster and faster. I couldn’t stop, not now, perhaps not ever. I hated everything. Frickin everything! 

I was calling for someone. Anyone. In my head, I screamed for Sydney to appear in front of me, ready for me to run into her arms. In my head, I called for Evie to come find me, even if she was really far away at university. She would. She always would. But I never asked.

Something was swelling up in my eyes. They were tears. I tried to wipe them off as I ran, but that only made me sob even more. I didn’t want to think about all the people in the park who saw me as I ran, so I let them flow. They started with the heaving in the chest and they came out as tiny droplets getting blown away by the wind. I had to be close to home. I had to be.

Then I thought about a certain someone that could be there for me. A stuffed bear that I could always count on. As I arrived at my street, I yelled, “Brownie? Brownie!”

I was at my house now. I busted through the door. My mom might’ve asked me what was wrong. My dad must’ve wondered why I was running so fast, looking up from his phone. I don’t know. I didn’t care about either. 

“Brownie! Where are you?”

I stubbed my toe up the stairs. It really hurt. Really frickin hurt. But I didn’t care, I had to find him.

When I got to my room I scrambled through all my desk belongings and closet, searching for him. My eyes were blurry and they didn’t help at all. Then I remembered that he was always in a bin of old toys under my bed. I went under, brought it out, found him and grabbed him, jumping under the covers of my bed. I was safe now. In the cool darkness of my room, I clutched Brownie under the covers. I felt his soft ears, his furry limbs, his stumpy tail. I was safe now. Brownie was with me. I had never felt so safe and calm in my life. It’s all a bad dream, I told myself. It’s really all just a bad dream. In the morning, I will not be holding you. I will be waking up in my bed normally, without you. That is how I will know this is a dream.

The next thing I knew, it was morning, and I was still holding Brownie.

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