the crisp breeze 3

The crisp breeze crashed against Old Man Parker’s cheeks like the tormenting seas that took the only love of his life; the same sea that wades infront of his hollow eyes and haunts his every waking moment.

Today’s autumn-scented morning was especially bitter and the chills hit him like a bat after whisking through the eroding wooden beams that made up his house. It wasn’t much of a house, and he always blamed that on the loss of his love; a love that constantly barred him from everyday life and personal growth.

As much as he had loved; he loathed. And now that his love was gone, lost to the sea, he remained cold and sterile which restrained his seeds from taking fruition- fruition of his own life to grow and spread its roots.

It had been many years since the incident, yet he still hadn’t been able to move forward, turn the page sort of speak; but this blank morning sitting hollow and starving forced him to adjourn- something that would have seemed miraculous if anyone had been home to acknowledge  his departure. However, it was quite the contrary as he made his was out of his often over-looked home and past the fallen leaves and nude trees that encompassed his landscape.

Old Man Parker began walking. It had been so long since he left his house leisurely that his surrounding looked foreign.  And minutes after leaving his own neighbourhood, his nurtured womb of isolation quickly became a single brushstroke in a much grandeur picture.

It was a funny thought that tickled his memory, a thought he had buried many years prior. He had not seen a child at play in so long that he forgot what mask innocence had donned.  For he had long time equated children with a fierce hatred.

 As the child recklessly tore about the playground jumping from one obstacle to another, Old Man Parker grew infatuated, he could not take his eyes off this ball of happiness rolling amongst the loops, hoops, and stoops that made up Seashore Park- a sign he read as the boy ran into view of the parks plaque.

“Seashore Park!” he exclaimed “that’s the… the… the…” He couldn’t manage to bring the words to life but his mind had already screamed and had enough time to create an electrically vivid portrait.

It had been over thirty years since he had heard the name Seashore Park and wanted to see if the old bench was there, so he started walking. He passed, who he assumed to be, the child’s father sitting on a park side bench who was watching his son play, and when Old Man Parker walked near him, the father looked up to acknowledge the old man and greeted him with a “Chilly day isn’t it?” He nodded at a loss for words. He had not been spoken to or, spoken to anyone in years and was a little overwhelmed, but the father pressed on “Are you new to this neighbourhood? I haven’t seen you here before.”

Old Man Parker, now trapped, felt he only had one option; to walk away. But the warmth of the strangers face allowed him to reconsider engaging in conversation. He knew what he had to do deep down, however it remained difficult, but in the end he pursed his lips together to talk “I… I was here once many years ago, but ever since that day I haven’t been back.  Actually I haven’t been anywhere since that day.” Once he finished his words, he trembled and almost fell to his knees, only catching himself with an arm against the backrest of the bench.  The father has noticed his actions and resistance and felt that this old man needed something important to get off his chest.

“Please continue, if you are able.” He softly gestured, embracing as if he were about to hear something abrasive.

He felt a great pressure building, but a small measure of weight had been released by his initial comments, so he continued “It was more than thirty years ago when I returned home after spending a great deal of my youth travelling abroad. I had finally settled down and come home without any real direction as to what I wanted to do with my life, only knowing that I had always been passionate about writing- So I decided to write my life story about travelling the world. Each day I would walk the maze of streets that surrounded my neighbourhood, not knowing where they led because I had left my own backyard as the last place to explore. So each day I left my home equipped with typewriter and a stack of paper in my leather satchel excited at retracing my steps across Asia, South America, Europe and Africa; and turning my adventures into the greatest travel story ever written.  I had always been one to journey off the beaten path; paddling the Amazon in search of alligators, motorcycling around the entire coastline of South Korea,  back-packing through Thailand joining parades against piracy and getting chased by monkeys, and getting stuck in the middle of a riot in Peru. This was my life and so, upon coming home, I went out every day to cafés, rooftops, street corners, parks, and mountain tops, and regurgitated my life onto paper.”

The fathers eyes grew wide with anticipation, listening intently only occasionally looking out of the corner of his eye at his son at play- almost ignoring him altogether, and Old Man Parker kept flowing like a faucet left unattended “I had been home almost three years writing and was on the very last leg of my book, I had even gotten married within those three years to a real gem, but she left me because of… Well, let’s just say I never had time for her.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” the father said mischievously.

“It’s well and good my boy.” Mr. Parker said without noticing the father’s intentions “I have learned to live it. But as I was saying, I used to leave the house everyday and find a place that gave me good energy. Well, it was a fall day much like the day we have today; the kind of day where the breeze bites at your skin, and I was sitting at that bench right over there along the Cliffside.” Mr. Parker, who stood shaken, pointed as the man turned his head and looked over his shoulder.

“I had poured my heart and soul and every ounce of myself into this book. Which was an extremely hard task considering I had to bury my desire to travel and explore deep down; but I told myself that this was the next chapter of my life- so I set to it vigorously. In Asia, I had learned to concentrate on a single task until completion; fortunately being surrounded by such diligent people had improved my slack work ethic.  So, as I sat just over there practically a period away from completion, a nervous chuckle had begun to grow in my belly. A chapter of my life was coming to an end. I had exhausted every means of my being and I… I was finally finishing my story- An impressive feat for myself of great magnitude at 736 typed pages, and not only that I was damn proud of it. I had written a lot in the past, but nothing quite like this- something that was mine, a legacy to pass on to my family and the world. And as I sat excited nervously laughing, a new laughter had outweighed mine. It was the sound of children, much like your child over there, but only a little older.”

This is when Mr. Parker’s eyes began to swell and his throat choke “I… I don’t know if I can continue.”

“You don’t have to” the father said harshly “I know everything that you’re going to say, and a day hasn’t gone by since that… that…”

“Wh… What are you trying to say?” Mr. Parker abruptly spit.

”That was me… me and my brother Donny. We were the ones that took your bag.”

“”Oh my God!” the Old Man gasped while raising his hand to his mouth in shock “I don’t know what to say, but I… I am unbelievably sorry about your brother. I… I wasn’t thinking and I acted on pure adrenaline and anger. I was young and a day hasn’t passed that I don’t relive the horror.”

“Well, what happened happened. There’s nothing we can do about the past. If we had not thrown your bag over the cliff then I wouldn’t have lost my brother that day. Over the last thirty years I have done a great deal of thinking and reliving that moment, and I have come to terms with it all. I just hope that the murder hasn’t eaten away at your soul over the years and you have come to terms as well. ” the father said snidely with a hint of sarcasm and long- lost anger in his voice.

 “Honestly after that day, I haven’t been the same man; I went mad with regret, I went into hiding, my marriage fell apart, I lost contact with the people that I already kept in the distance, and I had lost the love of my life, my story ” Mr. Parker cried with his shoulders shaking up and down .

“What is done is done” the father said without emotion “all we can do is move on.”

“You are right.” the old man said sombrely though he had never been able to since that day.

“Well, my boy and I should be getting home now, but before we go, I just have one last thing to say” the father now cocked his head and stared into the old man’s eyes.

Not responding by words the old man nodded, suggesting for the father to continue with his question.

“I guess we have both lost something forever” the father took time in his eloquence for he had waited a long time to meet the man that took his brother’s life “For me, I lost my brother and for you Mr. Parker, you lost the love of your life.”