"I'm too tired to talk now."
"Running drains a person. You should sit for a while." Anna pulled her fingers through her dark brown hair.
Alex had never been in a situation like this. Anna's concern made him suspicious. Who chases down a stranger? A creep or a saint. Either way, someone off her rocker. "Where would you like to sit?" Alex inquired.
"There's a little park a couple blocks away. It would be good to be outside, don't you think?"
"What park is that?"
"Greenachre Park."
"Never been."
"Then that is where we'll sit and figure you out."
"And then we'll figure you out?"
"Nothing to figure out, Alex."
Incorrect. "We'll see."
The two walked together, Anna slightly ahead, without saying another word. Alex was frequently distracted by the sights and sounds of the sidewalk. As they neared the park, the sound of water crashing into water became more distinct against the ambient noise. Going down a set of concrete steps to a brick patio, the two faced a man-made waterfall and stream flanked by greenery. Anna pulled back one of the two chairs at a round black metal table. The scraping of its feet was barely audible against the roar of the ebullient stream.
"How are we supposed to hear each other down here?" Alex asked in a raised voice.
"It's not so loud. But first you need to calm down, then we can talk. Let me know when you're ready." Anna leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
What is this? Alex looked closely at Anna's face. She looks serene. Eye-liner. Must not have been a bad day from the start. What is she thinking? Her motionless countenance bored him soon and his eyes began to wonder. This is a nice place. A good use of tax dollars. A little forced, but one has to force nature back in once she's been kicked out. All the same, I should get out of here. Go back home to sleep.
Alex shifted his weight in his seat. Anna's eyes opened at the sound. "You act as though I'm keeping you from something. Where else would you be?" Anna asked loudly.
Alex leaned towards her to speak over the noise. "I'd like to be at home sleeping."
"Sleeping at noon? Long night?"
"I don't sleep well anymore."
"So you sleep poorly around the clock?"
"Around most of the clock. 300 degrees of the clock." His eyes wandered towards a strutting pair of pigeons.
"And the other 60?"
"I eat breakfast and look out a window in my grandfather's condo at the street below."
"Why'd you leave today?"
"Because my grandfather was annoying me."
"He was trying to help, too, eh?"
What is this? Bad idea coming. Was it weakness or curiosity. I need to be free of this. "I cannot be helped, Anna."
Anna drew forward in a confrontational air. "You've been trying to establish that."
"And you've been trying to demolish that." Alex frowned and focused his eyes intensely on Anna's. "What you and my grandfather don't seem to understand is that I don't want your sort of help. I don't want his advice and I don't want your--I don't know what to call it--interest? I don't want tough love or soft love. I don't want pep talks. I don't want to plumb the depths of my soul. I want what I know I cannot have, so what I want next is to not have what I don't want. So I fled my grandfather and I tried to flee you."
"Noted. And how is relieving yourself of the compassion of others supposed to be good for you?"
This is crazy. "Compassion?! If you were actually feeling the same things I am feeling, you would have left me alone to be by yourself. You'd want to pick up the pieces on your own."
"But you can't pick them up. You said you know you can't have what you want--unless you want something other than being well again."
"How is a man supposed to be well when he's under the microscope of critics?"
"I'm hardly a critic. I don't know your grandfather, but judging by how you have responded to me, I'd say he's not either."
"Critics have nothing better to do than to belittle vulnerable people from their ivory towers." Confronting her again with his eyes, Alex said, "There's no danger in being critical."
"You can't be calmed, can you?"
"Is this a hobby of yours?"
"You're evasive."
"And you're nosy. I'm sad and you're bored. The sky is blue and the ground is hard. Definitions don't get you very far. It's like looking in a mirror. Input equals output. You need some principles. Some propositions. Then you can get something other than what you put in. I'll go first. I'll propose that there are two sorts of empty people: people that want to remain empty and people who want to be filled by others. I'll admit that I am in the first category, and you--you're in the second. But you can't take something from nothing, and I have nothing for you. I am not a pet project. A few glib truisms or folksy adages are not going to set me straight because they aren't going to set straight the ways of this world. You, my grandfather, and every other gilded optimist need to face the fact that life is not what you think it is and you cannot make it what you want it to be by convincing us innocent bystanders that crimes are really philanthropic actions in disguise."
"What do you think this is? Do you think I want this to count as my good deed for the day--chasing down an arrogant man to put him in his place? I just wanted to have a nice conversation. First thing this morning my boss called me into his office and told me to pack up my things. He said it was nothing personal. So, I put my pens and pencils, my photos, and the gum I keep in my desk into a box. I dropped the box off and sought solace in a donut shop. Then some shadowy bastard picks my table to invade--of all the tables--while I had retreated into the safehaven of literature. Then I watched you jitter and dart off and I thought, "He has it worse than me. I should go help him." You think that's what a critic thinks before reviewing a book?"
"What makes you think you can help me?"
"What makes you think you can hurt me? I was looking to be of some assistance, but think of me what you will. I won't tell you off. I won't get up. I'll keep sitting here. It's on you to run off again. You've got to face facts sooner or later, though."
Anna watched Alex think. Again? "Take this thing on." "Face the facts." How have I tried to get away at all? I am living it. Rotting, rotting as the world continues on. I was something and now I am not. No one will listen. I cannot be helped. Did I try to hurt her though? Only to be left alone. Is that what I want? No. I want the past back. 6 months ago." Alex felt a wave of frustration crash over him. Pathetic to snivel this way. Have I no pride? Too much pride--that's why I snivel. A boy with a popped balloon on a string in his hand. She's done nothing wrong. Neither has Ernest. I should give her a chance. "I'm sorry. Sorry for being abrasive. I only meant earlier to take a napkin without bothering you."
"Didn't you think if you asked, you could've started something good? A little friendly banter, a smile? Wouldn't that push against the momentum of your day?"
"Right, right. Let's move on. I said I was sorry."
"Yes, you did. Accepted. Now, relax." Anna leaned back in her chair and felt a sprinkle of mist strike her cheek.
"Running drains a person. You should sit for a while." Anna pulled her fingers through her dark brown hair.
Alex had never been in a situation like this. Anna's concern made him suspicious. Who chases down a stranger? A creep or a saint. Either way, someone off her rocker. "Where would you like to sit?" Alex inquired.
"There's a little park a couple blocks away. It would be good to be outside, don't you think?"
"What park is that?"
"Greenachre Park."
"Never been."
"Then that is where we'll sit and figure you out."
"And then we'll figure you out?"
"Nothing to figure out, Alex."
Incorrect. "We'll see."
The two walked together, Anna slightly ahead, without saying another word. Alex was frequently distracted by the sights and sounds of the sidewalk. As they neared the park, the sound of water crashing into water became more distinct against the ambient noise. Going down a set of concrete steps to a brick patio, the two faced a man-made waterfall and stream flanked by greenery. Anna pulled back one of the two chairs at a round black metal table. The scraping of its feet was barely audible against the roar of the ebullient stream.
"How are we supposed to hear each other down here?" Alex asked in a raised voice.
"It's not so loud. But first you need to calm down, then we can talk. Let me know when you're ready." Anna leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
What is this? Alex looked closely at Anna's face. She looks serene. Eye-liner. Must not have been a bad day from the start. What is she thinking? Her motionless countenance bored him soon and his eyes began to wonder. This is a nice place. A good use of tax dollars. A little forced, but one has to force nature back in once she's been kicked out. All the same, I should get out of here. Go back home to sleep.
Alex shifted his weight in his seat. Anna's eyes opened at the sound. "You act as though I'm keeping you from something. Where else would you be?" Anna asked loudly.
Alex leaned towards her to speak over the noise. "I'd like to be at home sleeping."
"Sleeping at noon? Long night?"
"I don't sleep well anymore."
"So you sleep poorly around the clock?"
"Around most of the clock. 300 degrees of the clock." His eyes wandered towards a strutting pair of pigeons.
"And the other 60?"
"I eat breakfast and look out a window in my grandfather's condo at the street below."
"Why'd you leave today?"
"Because my grandfather was annoying me."
"He was trying to help, too, eh?"
What is this? Bad idea coming. Was it weakness or curiosity. I need to be free of this. "I cannot be helped, Anna."
Anna drew forward in a confrontational air. "You've been trying to establish that."
"And you've been trying to demolish that." Alex frowned and focused his eyes intensely on Anna's. "What you and my grandfather don't seem to understand is that I don't want your sort of help. I don't want his advice and I don't want your--I don't know what to call it--interest? I don't want tough love or soft love. I don't want pep talks. I don't want to plumb the depths of my soul. I want what I know I cannot have, so what I want next is to not have what I don't want. So I fled my grandfather and I tried to flee you."
"Noted. And how is relieving yourself of the compassion of others supposed to be good for you?"
This is crazy. "Compassion?! If you were actually feeling the same things I am feeling, you would have left me alone to be by yourself. You'd want to pick up the pieces on your own."
"But you can't pick them up. You said you know you can't have what you want--unless you want something other than being well again."
"How is a man supposed to be well when he's under the microscope of critics?"
"I'm hardly a critic. I don't know your grandfather, but judging by how you have responded to me, I'd say he's not either."
"Critics have nothing better to do than to belittle vulnerable people from their ivory towers." Confronting her again with his eyes, Alex said, "There's no danger in being critical."
"You can't be calmed, can you?"
"Is this a hobby of yours?"
"You're evasive."
"And you're nosy. I'm sad and you're bored. The sky is blue and the ground is hard. Definitions don't get you very far. It's like looking in a mirror. Input equals output. You need some principles. Some propositions. Then you can get something other than what you put in. I'll go first. I'll propose that there are two sorts of empty people: people that want to remain empty and people who want to be filled by others. I'll admit that I am in the first category, and you--you're in the second. But you can't take something from nothing, and I have nothing for you. I am not a pet project. A few glib truisms or folksy adages are not going to set me straight because they aren't going to set straight the ways of this world. You, my grandfather, and every other gilded optimist need to face the fact that life is not what you think it is and you cannot make it what you want it to be by convincing us innocent bystanders that crimes are really philanthropic actions in disguise."
"What do you think this is? Do you think I want this to count as my good deed for the day--chasing down an arrogant man to put him in his place? I just wanted to have a nice conversation. First thing this morning my boss called me into his office and told me to pack up my things. He said it was nothing personal. So, I put my pens and pencils, my photos, and the gum I keep in my desk into a box. I dropped the box off and sought solace in a donut shop. Then some shadowy bastard picks my table to invade--of all the tables--while I had retreated into the safehaven of literature. Then I watched you jitter and dart off and I thought, "He has it worse than me. I should go help him." You think that's what a critic thinks before reviewing a book?"
"What makes you think you can help me?"
"What makes you think you can hurt me? I was looking to be of some assistance, but think of me what you will. I won't tell you off. I won't get up. I'll keep sitting here. It's on you to run off again. You've got to face facts sooner or later, though."
Anna watched Alex think. Again? "Take this thing on." "Face the facts." How have I tried to get away at all? I am living it. Rotting, rotting as the world continues on. I was something and now I am not. No one will listen. I cannot be helped. Did I try to hurt her though? Only to be left alone. Is that what I want? No. I want the past back. 6 months ago." Alex felt a wave of frustration crash over him. Pathetic to snivel this way. Have I no pride? Too much pride--that's why I snivel. A boy with a popped balloon on a string in his hand. She's done nothing wrong. Neither has Ernest. I should give her a chance. "I'm sorry. Sorry for being abrasive. I only meant earlier to take a napkin without bothering you."
"Didn't you think if you asked, you could've started something good? A little friendly banter, a smile? Wouldn't that push against the momentum of your day?"
"Right, right. Let's move on. I said I was sorry."
"Yes, you did. Accepted. Now, relax." Anna leaned back in her chair and felt a sprinkle of mist strike her cheek.
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