In the Park

“I just don’t get it, honey!”A small athletic woman calmly states.

“What’s not to get?” Her significant other asks.

“I just don’t get how Jennifer could to that to me! Again!” The woman’s voice becomes shrill in a common characteristic associated with whining and gossip in a female’s conversation.

“Oh…” Any interest the man had before was lost. I listen intently as he pretends to.

“She always treats me like a used... A used, “She pauses in thought.

“A used what?”

“Hammer! She uses me like a hammer, only when she needs me!”

“I’ve never heard you mention tools in anything. Do you even know what a hammer is?” The guy blurted, somehow in the conversation his filter must have been removed.

The woman’s chin drops to a gaping cave and an evil glare spreads across her features like a burning wildfire. I continue to listen, not making a sound.

We are gathered in a pretty park in the center of the hustle and bustle of a surrounding city. I’ve always personally thought of this park as an oasis, a breath of fresh air, a break away from daily life. The trees above us sway in the warm summer breeze and birds cheep joyfully in the branches. The green leaves just recently left hibernation and extended their limbs in the sun. They cast moving shadows on the faces of the couple and I focus in on them as the conflict unfolds.

“You’re a jerk! I can’t believe you just said that to me, you’re so insensitive!” She pauses, then continues. “I’m leaving! I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I like being around you right now!”

“Wait, babe! I’m sorry, that’s not what I mean to say…” The woman gets up off of my bench seats and begins to stomp away. Her boyfriend promptly follows like some sick game of follow the leader.

The park is quiet again from the absence of the two, and I soak up the Zen. It’s the perfect temperature, the perfect day, and I’m sitting underneath the perfect tree.

A moment later a man comes and sits down. He’s alone. His clothes consist of a blue pinstripe button up shirt pulled loosely over a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. In his ears are loud headphones screaming lyrics to the outside world like they are trying to escape some sort of confined prison. He taps his foot loudly to the beat. I let out a subtle groan and the man looks down at me. He looks away quickly thinking nothing of my battered and used appearances.

He begins talking to himself, it appears. “Today was such a hard day. It’s nice to relax and be able to breathe for a minute.” I say nothing and sit in silence. It’s refreshing to be able to relate to someone and share the same understanding about a place, even if it’s a complete stranger.

After five short minutes he rises from my seats and walks away on the concrete path. It winds its way through this little paradise. I watch as he follows it like the Yellow Brick Road, then he disappears around a corner. Now I find myself alone yet again. I’m left to my own thoughts.

I have never left this park. I’ve stayed here dedicated to it through rain and snow. As you can imagine, I’ve observed crazy events in those thirty years. I’ve seen elaborate pranks, late night adventures to the swings fifteen feet away from me, weddings, summer parties, towering snowmen without the ability to smell, kids chasing grasshoppers… I’ve seen it all. Humans are curious beings, and the only reason I say this is because all the while I listen quietly without them knowing. I’m not a person myself, I am the bench they decide to sit on.

You can really learn about someone this way, all you have to do is listen.

Skipping Rocks

There’s a natural made harbor in my hometown and it lives right along the coast. One side of this harbor is covered in rocks; they were placed there initially to protect the extension of land that reaches out into the sea. The other side is sand and pebbles. On a sunny day it is a wonderful place to observe. Children lift rocks and collect small crabs as they try to skitter away, games of tag on the sand are along the strip of beach, lunches are packed and carried along, and people just come to enjoy the sun or the relaxing sound of the waves. Me? I go here to skip rocks.

Today it’s sunny. I only skip when it’s nice weather. When it rains I’ll try to but last only about three or four minutes before the rain drives me back into my vehicle. I go here because it’s close to my home, on the beach side the waves are very gentle which makes it perfect for skipping, and the best rocks naturally inhabit this shore.

I scour a patch of outcropped rocks for the perfect tool, after it will go through close inspection. I discover a round one, pick it up in my hand, estimate its possibilities of success, and stick it into my pocket. I do the same for five others then I walk down to where the friendly waves happily greet the shore. I look down and my toes are speckled with sand. They look like some sort of bumpy reptile. I wriggle them and my brightly painted toenails wave at me.

A soft breeze sways my hair over my face and I tuck it behind my ears. The pieces that are too short to be restrained rebelliously return to nagging my face. I turn into the wind and force them to my will. As I turn I notice a figure walking this way. It’s normal to accidentally bump into strangers on days like today. The sun is out and people flock to the water like seagulls on a french-fry.

I find myself staring awkwardly at the figure. As it moves closer I realize that this figure is very attractive in the most appealing ways. The young man has distinguishing and rugged features, tousled black hair, and perfect teeth that beam in an open smile as he walks. He isn’t looking at me of course, he is admiring a bald eagle that just perched on a log sticking out of the water about fifteen feet away. In his claws the majestic male bird holds a small fish; it’s wriggling like an ant under a microscope. In an instant I watch as he swallows the creature whole then takes off again in flight. His shadow is an acrobatic plane; wheeling, twisting, and turning.

I look back to my approaching stranger. He’s looking at me and I quickly drop my gaze to the rock in hand. I feel its polished surface worn down from the waves, I decide to toss it. It skips six times across the water like it were on a trampoline and with a satisfying “PLOP” it sinks into the ocean to become a part of the never ending marine-life cycle.

I look back up and he’s still looking gazing at me. I flash him a quick smile.His board shorts and t-shirt play in the breeze and his hair flies about. Even in the midst of an outside force trying to wreck his flawless image, he still manages to hold it together with ease. I mentally take note of that ability.

In my attempt to gawk at him unnoticeably the space between us slims and I catch my breath. He’s seven feet away. I have no time to turn away and I don’t want to be rude.

He stops two feet from me, his smile still greeting me.

“Hi!”

Oh geez, can I even respond?

I squeak out a quick and raspy, “Hello.”

“I see you’re skipping rocks. That last one was pretty good!” His face lights up and his stunning green eyes twinkle. They are such a beautiful contrast to his black hair.

“Yeah… Thanks…” I look down and begin to pull out another rock from my pocket. “Do I know you?” I ask him quizzically.

“Nope, but that’s okay! Sometimes a smile is all it takes!” He grins.

A Quick Dip

“Try and hold your breath for as long as you can!”

The teal water below the two boys glistens in the sun. A dragonfly zooms by and in a nearby tree a bird cheerfully tweets. It’s the epitome of summer. The temperature is a comfortable 82°, and the two are halfway down the center of a dock about to make a feverish dash to jump off of the end.

“I bet I can beat you to the end and hold my breath longer than you can,” The taller of the two confidently states! He places his hands on his hips for added justification.

“Betcha can’t!”

“On three I’ll prove it to you!” Both of them place their hands in the air and begin to count together.

“1…” One finger shoots up on both hands.

“2…” a second follows; the shorter of the two stifles a laugh.

“3!” 

They take off in a steady sprint and jump off of the dock mimicking leaping frogs; one last heavy breath sounds from both of them before they touch the water. They land, sending up sprinkling reports as the water is displaced and abruptly interrupted.

Within seconds of disappearing they both return to the surface gasping.

“It’s soooo cold!” The taller one sputters.

“Ugh,” The shorter boy begins hysterically coughing. “It took my breath away! Did it do that to you too Sam?”

“Yeah!” They both doggy-paddle to the ladder on the dock extended into the water. Sam beats the other brother and climbs up.

“Alex, when we’re done later, wanna play catch?” 

Alex grunts loudly as he struggles to pull himself out of the water.

After finally getting a foot up he says “Yeah, sure. I’ll only play if you play fair this time.” The foot he placed on the first rung of the ladder suddenly slips on the growing algae and he finds himself back in the water.

A loud, playful laugh erupts from atop the dock, “What’d you do that for?”

“I didn’t mean to! The step was slippery!”

“You’re clumsy!”

“Hey! At least I’m not weird!”

“Keep telling yourself that little bro!” A wide smile spreads across Sam’s face.

Alex attempts the ladder a second time, this one being successful. Breathing heavily, Alex collapses on the sun-warmed, wind-worn dock at their perfect summer lake cabin.

Every summer the boys and their parents come here to spend a month. It’s the stereotypical summer all kids grow up dreaming about. There are no worries, and not a care in the world. The most important thing about the lake cabin is that the house doesn’t require any homework.

Sam lies down on his stomach next to Alex in the mid-day sun. Water glistens on both of their bodies like tiny diamonds. From the shock of the water goose-bumps erupt on their skin like tiny volcanoes.

“That was so cold,” Sam wails!

“Yeah! We can call it a tie. Clearly I won though!” Alex puffs his cheeks slightly with pride.

“You did not!”

“Did to!”

The boys get quiet for a moment, the sound of minute waves lap under the dock and fill the silence. A very brief time passes and the boys exchange looks. Slowly a face-splitting grin breaks Alex’s face. His eyes sparkle, and he lifts his eyebrows. A drop of water drips down his cheek, leaving a small trail behind. Alex leans in, closing the gap between him and his brother. He hushes his voice to an almost inaudible whisper, lowers one eyebrow and says:

“Let’s do it again!”