A Ride Through the Park

Sunday, July 26, 2009 at 2:42pm | Edit Note | Delete
I drove by the unattended ticket booth, knowing that I wouldn’t find the expressionless teenager’s face handing me a ticket, but I glanced at it anyway.
The parking lot spread out unabated without a soul. It rendered me insignificant as I stood by the turnstile; it seemed abandoned and purposeless. There was a feeling of intense solitude.
When I was little, I wanted to find a place where to hide and to be all alone; to experience what would be like to be all by myself. A kid is under a watchful eye everywhere, at school, at home. There was always a grown up looking after me. At times being separated from all was, and still is a unique experience even today.
I started walking towards the camping area, the evergreens stood like lonely giants, one hiding timidly behind the other with a few oaks and maples whispering the sad coming of  autumn. Then I spotted a camper, it was almost blending with the background as if it was purposely planted there. Out of view. As I moved towards it, I felt exposed, the lot continued broadening unchallenged without the presence of cars and people; by now they were all gone. A tinge of melancholy overwhelmed me for a moment. I felt like one of those kids at the end of summer. Although the late September sun was still bright and intrusive, it was not the same. Something had changed.
There was a fine smoky mist confining the camp, making me feel a bit disoriented. As I approached the camper it looked odd, unusual. It had out of state plates and it hadn’t being used recently. I tried to look through the weather dulled window and I sensed that somebody was looking back at me from the inside. A whiff of acrid mustard and old beer turned off my curiosity and I just left. A few thoughts crossed my mind but I didn’t deal with it. I did not want to be near that ‘thing’ any longer. “Why was I there anyway?” I said to myself. An ice-cream truck showed up over the narrow road moving slowly and in silence. It looked out of place. As I followed it with my eyes I developed the sudden desire to hear that repetitive jingle one more time, but it didn’t play out, it accelerated before the hill and sped out like a regular vehicle. I was annoyed that it didn’t.
I found myself in the middle of the camping area with the trash cans and the fire pits. They were clean and empty, and the tables arranged like to entertain no one. The baths were locket and the water fountains were shut dried. I wanted to leave, right at that very moment and I headed back to my car. I did not know my way around very well, even though I have been there before many times long ago with my parents. In those days I didn’t have to remember anything, except for what I wanted to remember and that was the way to the beach. I knew it, somewhere there is this path leading to the water. I put my keys back in my pocket and I went for it; “there was this rocky path, I am sure, and I am going to find it!” I said to myself. A young mind memory becomes impregnated with fresh lasting mementos, like colors, and the feeling of gravel under one bare feet, the smell of firewood burning in the air; impressions that will remain with you forever. I jumped into a shallow drop and I realized that I couldn’t climb back to where I came from, I could only go down, and down I went. I smelled salty water as the path became colder and narrower, I could hear people’s voices in the distance and strangely enough I sensed what other people felt vividly some summers ago. For an elusive moment I was touched by a teenager first kiss, sweet puppy love, the infatuation. My heart raced and I ran as fast as I could although I wanted to stop but I couldn’t, the tree’s branches were whipping my arms, my face, and my entire body was in pain, I experienced a sensation of jealousy and disappointment and I heard laughter and crying at the same time. I thought that I was turning mad! Seas of crickets and flying hissing insects were all around this maelstrom of voluminous boulders and threatening rocks. I saw the tree trunks like giant arms being raised against me and falling over my way. I rolled uncontrollably for a long while, until this nightmare came to a sudden stop.
I found myself face down on a beach, confused but unhurt. This occurrence finally subsided, and then I opened my eyes slowly, in light and gentle silence, to the miracle of a blue sky. I was brought to a calm shore of quiet waves and nothingness far beyond the background. I took a deep breath while sinking my feet in the balmy sand and I laid down on my back. My eyes caught the clouds drifting in a slowly whirlwind working out different things and faces. Then suddenly I spotted the Unfathomable Old Sailor come out of it; that old marine legend that goes around clanking incessantly with his pointer cane the boats masts, booms and riggings with that monotonous and ever present clank-clank-clank. So many people have seen him but don’t dare to describe him; he looks just like an old bearded man. He is a takeoff from and old tin can of wheat crackers that my mother used to buy. He’ll be in his water gear for ever; as long as I want. Now he is coming down the beach, this time he is going home, I think, wherever home is. He seems to go back instead, further and further unless I keep my eyes on him. I will not disturb him. I will follow him with my eyes. I won’t let him change into something else.
I can hear now the jingle of the Ice Cream truck, and it is coming my way.

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