Entry 8

The Last Man In Toronto continues to look for fellow survivors in an otherwise dead city.

ENTRY 8, EARLY SUMMER 2044

THE AREA ONCE KNOWN AS HIGH PARK

I had almost finished my trek along Bloor Street West, and I was now just passing Dundas West Station. 

I looked up at the highrise complex that was once the Crossways, now just a shell.

I was heading to High Park. I have heard there is a group of survivors living somewhere in the park.

There used to be an entrance to the park from Keele Street. However, it has since been covered by vegetation. I tried my best to find what was once a bike path. I would follow it into the park. 

High Park was the largest park in Toronto. I remember when I used to come over here to jog or just walk and enjoy the scenery. However, months of neglect have turned this once magnificent park into a jungle.

That being said, those months without any human interaction had also allowed more wildlife to take over. I was about five minutes into the park, and I saw an entire family of deer. They saw me, and looked at me. I did not want to frighten them, so I walked slowly as far from them as I could. I took a little detour from the path. Suddenly, the ground gave way from under my feet, and I tumbled down a steep hill, and finally rested at the base of what used to be a pond. Actually, it used to be a storm sewer terminus.

The pond is now just mud with a few weeds poking up. The exit from the sewer system now clogged with mud and debris. 

As I climbed up, trying to regain my footing, a fox came out from the brush to investigate. 

I also noticed more birds, snakes, and rodents. It was interesting to see nature taking back their land.

I found the path once again, and proceeded south towards what was once Grenadier Pond.  It is called a pond, but it was more of a small lake. Used for fishing in the summer, and skating in the winter, and once known to be haunted by Grenadier Soldiers from 1812.

I was passing the Grenadier Restaurant, and stopped to look inside. It was clean and looked like it had been used recently. That was a good sign. Animals don't use restaurants.

I scrambled down the hill to Grenadier Pond, and it was beautiful. It was the most beautiful thing I had seen since I left the mall.

It was a hot day, so I though I'd jump in for a soak.

I sat in the shallow part of the pond, and poured the water over myself with my hands. The water was up to my chest. I stopped for a moment, and noticed something different about the water. I could see the bottom. The water was clean!

I also noticed how quiet it was. Here I was in the middle of a huge city, and there was no noise. Nothing. Only the odd sound of some animal in the bushes, or birds chirping and fluttering. No traffic, horns, people yelling, subway screeching...This was...enjoyable. For the first time ever in this city, I was relaxed.

I sat and enjoyed nature for a while. I don`t know how long. Possibly a few hours.

I may have even fell into a light sleep, but was awakened by a voice, "Ixney the pond!"

I looked up and noticed a male in his thirties, standing on the shore. He was dressed in what looked like something Tarzan would have worn.

"What?", I replied.

"Ramscay!"

Wow. I found them. I got out of the water to greet the man, but was not sure what language he was speaking.

"Hi. I speak English. Do you speak English?"

"We no want rangerstay. Ramscray!"

He was speaking a very strange dialect of English, I think.

I was still walking towards him, and he suddenly pulled out a rather nasty-looking weapon., "No more move!Ramscray from park."

"Ramscray? I'm sorry. I do not understand your dialect. I have come from the east. From what used to be Scarborough. I am looking for survivors of the virus."

"No."

No? I don't think he was understanding me.

"Out. Leave park, now!"

Okay, that part I understood. He didn't seem to be very friendly.

Then, from out of the bush came others. Men and women of all ages. About 20 or more.

A woman approached me carefully, and said, "You rangerstay. Look not too disappointing."

"No!", said the man in the Tarzan uniform, "Ixnay!"

The woman backed away slowly. 

It seemed that Tarzan was the dominate male of this rather odd group.

Suddenly a feeling of disappointment came over me. I had found what I thought was paradise, but the natives did not seem to want to share it.

There was no point trying to talk to these people, because whatever odd variation of English they were speaking made communication difficult.

I raised my hands in defeat, and proceeded back to the bike path, and eventually back to Bloor Street.

My search continued...