Into the Unknown

Martin Foster - September 24, 2019

Visiting with Phillip at my shop yesterday was a change of events. Normally, the man doesn't stop by to see me, let alone allow me to even get close to his vehicles; he's very personal with them. I'm not sure if I've ever seen somebody other than him and his wife drive those vehicles of theirs. But I've known him for as long as I've been alive so he has a soft spot for me. Especially when Shelby and I became best friends, he always loved seeing the two of us together, even as little four year-olds. I remember that first day of kindergarten with her; we were both so young and fresh, ready for the excitement and fun we'd enjoy throughout our school years together. Eventually, we learned everything about each other. Since we hung out nearly all day every day, we had the most tightknit of friendships and it was lovely. Once we came into high school though, the Hermans moved in. Even though he was a grade ahead of us and he was a newcomer to Princelan High, William somehow managed to ruin my friendship with Shelby. That's where it all went to pieces. After Shelby and I graduated, she slipped away from me and I watched her as she got closer with that Herman boy and it broke my heart. So, I decided not to pursue my personal career choice. Instead, I ended up taking over the family mechanic business after my father died. Now, at a mere 23, the shop is mine and I do all the work by myself. Unfortunately, I've been in debt for the past few months. In a town as small as Princelan, it's significantly unusual for people to have car troubles, it seems. Even though I am the only mechanic in town, I rarely get any customers.

Elizabeth's Mini is still here in the shop. It was an easy fix and only took a couple minutes to repair. I haven't gotten around to phoning her though. Her Countryman has always been one of my favorite models of cars, so I've kept it here in the shop for as long as I can without making anybody suspicious. Anyway, it's not like many people would notice the car, other than Liz, of course. I'm sure she's missing her vehicle and tired of having to hitch a ride with her detective fiancé.

Today though, I feel like taking a walk around the park, rather than call Elizabeth about her car. The weather is astoundingly better than it was yesterday. It's amazing how a change of weather can either lighten or darken a person's mood. At least, that's the way it is for me.

Lovelace Park is teeming with people and their pets on this fine morning. Personally, I've never liked the name. 'Lovelace' always seemed too romantic for a park's name. Although, I'm not the one who decided on the name so I don't have much room to talk.

The dog park is full of barking, running, and sniffing; the playground, yet still wet from yesterday's downpour, has children crawling and playing all over the structures; ducks waddle along the pavement walkway, rest in the shine of the dewy grass, and glide gracefully in the lake bordered with lily pads.

I make my way along the entire edge of the lake, completing a full loop. Along the way, I see walkers with their obnoxiously annoying corgis who don't stop barking at me until I've passed far enough away from them. A couple women jog their way down the path, looking back at me with flirty eyes as they pass, which I ignore completely. Even though I've always wanted to get married one day, I haven't found any capable women. Not in a while, anyway. For now, singleness seems the best until I can figure out how I want to create a path for a better outlook in the near future. If I'm going to get married, I'd rather like to have financial security, especially in this day where money is involved with literally everything and prices continue to rise.

As I make my way through a little cul-de-sac at the far end of the lake, I spot a little Wood Warbler, which is not a common species to find anymore. I think to myself that I'm a lucky fellow to see such a beauty as that delicate little bird before my eyes. Its green coloring makes it a distinct accent compared to the rotting fallen log it's resting upon. It's a true beauty, the little warbler. I approach the log as quietly and slowly as I can, yet the bird notices my appearance and flutters off into the distance of the blue heavens above, a gorgeous gem for somebody else to see.