What Comes Next

Chapter 5: Leo

Chapter 5: Leo

This morning's alarm had me questioning Cara's taste in music. Nonetheless, her song choice repeats itself in my head as I enter the local Starbucks and am greeted with the warm smell of overpriced coffee. After losing an internal battle, I walk away from the counter with my vanilla latte and a croissant, but it only takes moments before my weekend splurge is sent plummeting to the floor by the small brunette blur with which I have collided.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" a voice exclaims. I seem to be getting a lot of those these days. "It's okay." I say quickly, relieved at least to be on my two feet. "It's okay?" says the voice in disbelief. I look down and my eyes meet what I now recognize is a human woman – girl? – woman. Short woman, but definitely a woman, about my age and incredibly concerned about my split coffee.

"It's okay." I say assuredly.

"Ahem."

Simultaneously, we break eye contact and turn to the new party, a less than enthused employee with a mop in his hand.

"Would you mind moving that way a bit?" the employee directs, more than asks. We oblige and I figure now is a good time to cut my losses and leave with at least one half of my breakfast intact. But the coffee assassin persists, "Can I buy you a new coffee? I have to buy you a new coffee. Unless you're in rush. I think I have a gift card somewhere in here..." she began rifling through her purse as I stood there, still trying to catch up with the conversation.

"Found it! Wait – there's only like twenty-five cents on this thing, I'm so sorry..." The girl rambles on until I realize there is only one way this conversation will end.

"A medium latte." I cut her off. She smiles and breathes, "Alright."

Standing in line, I realize eating my croissant will only keep the small talk at bay for a few more seconds and decide looking out at the parking lot is my next best option. And then I see it. I wouldn't be surprised if I was drooling. In the parking lot is a shiny red 1984 Harley-Davidson FXST Softail.

"Sir, sir...", the girl's voice pulls me out of my daydream as I snap back to reality.

"Um, is there anything else I can get you?" she asks warily. "Uh, no...Actually, you don't by chance know who owns that motorcycle out there?" A small smile creeps onto her lips before she speaks. "Yeah, that's mine. I only spilled your coffee though, so that's going to remain mine," she says teasingly.

"I wouldn't dream of taking that away from you."

"Are you a car guy?"

"Huh? Oh no! I just think the antiques are cool. Father-son bonding and all that."

I stared at the ground.

"You have a son?"

"What?"

"You just talked about bonding and-"

"Oh! No, I am a son – the son in this scenario. I don't have any kids. I'm not..."

Her faced started turning red and she couldn't speak fast enough, "Oh my god that makes so much more sense. I'm so sorry. Obviously, you don't have a kid. Who wants kids?! I mean like I do just not now, maybe later in life. You don't want to know about that...I'm sorry."

Her eyes dropped and as we fell into an awkward silence...

"I, um, want kids too." What are you doing? "Later in life, obviously." Shut up. "Kids are cool." Idiot.

She looks up from her feet, "You like kids?"

"Yeah," I say, not wanting to disappoint. There's a moment of silence as the smile returns to her face.

"I work at a youth center, you know."

"Oh, cool!" I say trying to look interested. And, weirdly, I am interested. I just never had to look it before.

"You know we're always looking for volunteers, especially with the holidays coming up. And if you want, there's a twenty-five cent Starbucks gift card in it for you."

Whatever weird face I had before is broken by a smile, "With an offer like that, how could I refuse?"

Her face, somehow, got even brighter, "Awesome! I'm there pretty much every weekend and weeknight, and Patty practically lives there. Just show up and someone will be there."

"Sounds good." I turn to face the cashier. "A vanilla latte with a caramel swirl." I say before stepping aside to let... "What's your name?"

"Nellie," to let Nellie pay. "I definitely feel bad now. I spilled the most amazing drink in the world. I knew it smelled familiar. That's my favorite order," she says. "Well you have good taste. And I'm Leo by the way." I pick up my coffee and head towards the door, "See you around." I walk outside, leaving the haze of coffee behind me. I give one last longing look towards her motorcycle and get in my truck.

~

I arrive at the trail not long after, though it took an extra half hour for me to find the Information Center.

"May I help you, sir?" asks a man at the desk.

"Yes, do you know where I can find Brian?"

"Yeah. Brian!" He calls to the back. A grizzly looking guy emerges from behind the desk. "You must be Leo," he says leading me out the door and to a golf cart. We hop in and a few bumpy minutes later he pulls into a patch of grass off the sidewalk. "Here's the temporary guide. We're trying to focus more on the neighborhoods history so let us know what you think." I thank him and set off on the path. For a guy with poor directional skills, I really do enjoy these sorts of activities.

As I travel the barely distinguishable trail, thoughts fill my head and I have to stop every once in a while, to breathe them away. As the sun brightens in the sky, I find I've wandered incredibly off course. Instead of the historic former-library-now-condominium the map says I should be looking at, there's a diner. Bee's Diner. It's closed permanently but the inside is still decorated with photos of people – young people, old people, historical people – and paintings of fields covered in snow. Just for grins, I try the door but as expected it's locked. I take one last glance at the time capsule and I feel...tired.

It's not the kind of exhaustion expected after walking for over an hour. It's more like feeling weak under the pressure of so many emotions. I stare at the sky above me and can visualize seeing the stars that so rarely penetrate the city lights. Somehow, in a city of more than six hundred thousand, the world around me actually seems silent. Still. It's as though my mind has finally caught up with itself.

I catch myself drifting away and jump back into the task at hand. I take out my phone and look at the time: eleven thirty-two. Pocketing my device, I give up on finding the last landmark and try to retrace my steps back to the start. I always hate the journey back. Treading the same ground, passing the same trees. It's like your feet are moving forward but everything around you remains.

The rest of my trek is uneventful. For a moment I mistake a hose for a snake. Unexciting, but effective at startling you back into reality. With my eyes on the spot where Brian left me, I debate the practicality of continuing on to relocate the information center. Forfeiting, I redirect to Copley Station and take the first trolley headed north. But instead of waiting for Haymarket Square, I get off – at Arlington.

**********

As always questions, comments, concerns at the bottom.

May the Force Be With You. (-rolling my eyes- ~L)

~J