Journey's Child

13

The climb up to the trees was quicker than yesterday. I wasn't as afraid, although I wasn't sure why. Maybe because the beach bullies weren't around to scare me or maybe because something had changed in me since yesterday. Whatever it was, I knew I had nothing to lose.

The day was cool. The fog crawled in from the ocean and reached out with ghost-like fingers grabbing me in a wet hug. I shuddered from the cold and from fear brought on by the barely visible path that rose on through the trees. I scolded myself for being a sissy. Climbing higher I finally reached the large tree that spread out over the rocks and path like an umbrella.

I sat down to rest because I was afraid to go further in uncharted territory. I began to look around at my surroundings. The landscape was beautiful. The ocean seemed more wild and violent as it churned against the rocks below. I watched through a misty fog as it crashed onto the rocks throwing white foam into the air. I took a deep breath of the cool sea-scented breeze and began to plan what I would do next. Suddenly the stranger's dog crashed through the bushes. I closed my eyes and waited to be eaten.

He stood about three feet from me. I opened one eye, then the other. He didn't bark or growl. He just stood his ground and panted while he looked at me. Although I never had a dog of my own, some of my friends did. I had no reason to be afraid of them.

"Hey boy, it's okay," I managed to squeak out. "You don't want to eat me do you?"

He sat down and continued panting which made him look like he was smiling. He had bushy eyebrows and round brown eyes that reminded me of over-sized buttons. He had a large squared off nose and a huge mouth that was framed by scruffy fur and a goatee. He reminded me of a dog version of a college professor I might see in a movie. All he needed was a pipe.

A high pitched whistle shattered my thoughts. The dog was there one minute and gone the next. I looked around, but the area was empty except for me. I decided to head back down the hill. I knew the stranger must be near. The dog didn't live up to the scary hype from the beach bullies, but the stranger just might.

I walked into town to look around the emporium. I took a different side street determined to get to know the town. It was like the others I had been on. There were shabby old houses with peeling paint and porches that were falling apart. Some had wood fences that were probably nice when they were new, but now they barely stood up. They had large empty gaps that no longer protected the overgrown lawns. What color they may have been, probably drab white, had been erased by time. The only modern hint I could find on any street was the cars. They were all pretty new, except for a few clunkers. I realized I hadn't seen any car lots in or around town and wondered where the people got them.

The Drake Harbor Emporium was filled with all kinds of interesting stuff. I spent a good hour looking over all the things that were for sale. I bought a book, 'Whale Talk', about a boy who felt he was a misfit. I hoped it would give me some comfort. Like my mother would say, 'Misery loves company'.

I walked out to the sidewalk and decided to visit the painting in the gallery's window. The sun broke through and was covering the sidewalk in a warm glow. The fog had been pushed back and the sad town looked a little less pitiful under the light blue sky.

Arriving at the gallery, I was immediately mesmerized by the framed landscape that held center stage in the window. It took my breath away. I couldn't explain how it made me feel. The best I could say, was that when I looked at it, I felt full of loneliness.

The clock above the counter in the gallery told me it was almost 12:30. My stomach already knew this and was rumbling loudly. I headed across the street and walked back towards the diner.

The restaurant was a busy place. Town people hung out there, especially in the morning and early afternoon. Settled between a secondhand store and an empty building, there was a partially lit neon sign that said Drake's Galley. The front of the diner was mostly windows. They were covered with a tinted film which had bubbles all over it. There were no curtains which I thought made the inside look unfinished and unfriendly. Fortunately, the people who worked there weren't mean. The tables in the middle of the diner were wood with blue wipe-off table coverings on them. The wood chairs that sat around them were old and some of them didn't match. Along both side walls of the eating area, there were booths with red Formica tops and cracked vinyl seats in the same color. The counter at the front of the diner was Formica too but it was a pale yellow. The stools had backs on them like chairs and they were covered in the same red vinyl. The floor was like the one in the market with black and grayish squares. It made me think that the entire town was built by one man who used all the same materials. He must have built the cottages too. The thought gave me chills.

When I walked into the diner, it felt stuffy and smelled like greasy bacon. I took the first empty table by the front window. There was a fly buzzing angrily up and down the glass trying to find its way out. I didn't blame him since several of his friends lay belly-up on the sill.

"Hey hon, what can I get you?" the waitress asked in a no-nonsense hurried voice.

I ordered a hamburger and a vanilla shake. She was gone in a blink of an eye. I pulled out the book I'd bought at the emporium and began to read while I waited for my lunch. I was lost in the story when my food arrived. Thanking the waitress who had already moved away, I put my hamburger together and ate while I continued reading. I didn't notice the comings and goings of the people. I was enjoying the book and my food.

Suddenly there was a tap on my table. I jumped and looked over to see a large hand that had just rapped its knuckles on the edge of the table. I knew without looking up that it was the stranger. I could see the dark duster he wore hanging past his knees. I kept my eyes down afraid to look up at him.

The restaurant was still in motion. No one seemed to notice that he was talking to me. I waited for someone to say or do something. Then he spoke. He kept his voice low and quiet like what he had to say was just between us.

"I don't like people on my property. There's nothing there for you to see."

With that, he walked out the door, whistled for his dog and headed up the street.

I sat there for a minute then I did something crazy. I don't know why, maybe because my life was so lonesome and he was taking away the only distraction I had, but I got up and followed him outside. I stood on the sidewalk and yelled after him, "I didn't see any signs saying I couldn't be there!" He didn't stop or even turn around. Before I went back inside, I shouted again as he moved away, "Oh and I like your painting."

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