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The Walking Man

Bill DeArmond

    3:07 PM          Corner of Park and 10^th Street          Mikey Shermer
    Hey, guys! There goes that old dude I was tellin’ you about. Every day, like clockwork – rain, snow, whatever – he’s out on his stroll.
    I hope I got that much energy when I’m that old. What is he? 50-something? That’s ancient.
    What do you think’s drivin’ that guy? Probably was a runner once. Kind of gimpy now – a bum leg – some kinda accident, I bet.
    I gotta give him props though. Man that’s perso...persavariance...you know what I mean. I’ve never committed myself that much to anything...except nailing Mary Sweeney.
    Maybe had a stroke or somethin’...has to do this to stay alive.

    3:22 PM          Corner of 10^th and Evergreen          Mad Miz Dubois
    There’s that prevert again! Trampin’ ‘round those houses – sneakin’ looks inside – tryin’ to catch people doin’ somethin’ nasty.
    I mighta knowed. Here comes the school bus. That’s what he’s awaitin’ fer. That old fart! Watchin’ them little kids. Conjurin’ up some preversion he can do on ‘em.
    Look at him just standin’ there – starin’ at that little boy all the way to his door. Plannin’ some secret perversion, I bet. And what the hell’s that look on his face? He’s almost cryin’ – like he can’t wait.
    This time I’m gonna call the cops.
    Stop him and his preverted eyes. Damn old fart! I’m gonna turn him in.
    Sure will do it.
    Right after Opry.

    3:37 PM          Corner of Evergreen and 19t^th          Tony Roach
    Here comes that homeless guy again. I guess he’s homeless. Seems to wander around town all day. It’s all aimless – he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere – taking his time – not much aware of what’s going on around him.
    I wonder what’s north on Evergreen? He’s always coming from that direction. Never the other way.
    And he never carries anything – ever! It’s not like he’s coming from the store.
    He’s probably not homeless. He’d be pushing a cart or carrying a bag or something. Wouldn’t leave his stuff where somebody could steal it.
    Clothes seems too clean for a bum – even though he always wears that beat-up old black leather jacket – that stupid beret.

    3:52 PM          Corner of 19^th and Park          Marshall Mathers
    Marshall Mathers was also a creature of habit. He always got home from work at 3:30 – to a house empty now these two years since his Marsha had passed away.
    He’d always spend that first half hour or so puttering around in the garden, preening the flower-lined sidewalk. Marsha’s pride and joy. Her only conceit.
    Marshall never thought about why he spent this time trying to keep it all neat and trim. He just did it – not really knowing what he was doing – mimicking things he’d seen her do. He barely watered the shrubs – just enough to keep them going. As long as they survived, somehow her memory did as well.
    Had Marshall bothered to glance up from his meditation, he’d have noticed a man in a worn jacket pass by. Had he met the old man’s eyes, he would have seen a common sadness there. Maybe they would have talked. Maybe each would have found a brother.
    But Marshall kept his attention focused on the earth – pulling weeds that would be there again tomorrow.
    And the moment passed.

    4:02 PM          1472 Park Street          Emily Brewer and Nelle Harper
    “I see George is back right on time again.”
    “You mean that old guy in the funny hat who wanders all over town?”
    “Well, he doesn’t drive anymore since the accident.”
    “What accident?”
    “You remember that car that went over Bright’s Cliff up on the summit?”
    “I remember something about it? A couple years ago?”
    “Almost four actually.”
    “And George was involved?”
    “He was driving. With his wife and son. They all survived the initial crash. George managed to climb the embankment even though he’d dislocated his shoulder, badly sprained his ankle, and had suffered a bad gash on his leg.”
    “What happened?”
    “George hiked four miles back down the road. It’s so isolated up there he didn’t run into anyone on the way. Nobody lives up there either. When he finally located a house, it was vacant. He broke in and called 911. By the time the rescue crew got to the scene, his wife had died. They boy lingered another day or so before he passed.”
    “He didn’t have a cell phone?”
    “It was crushed.”
    “And he hasn’t driven since?”
    “He never replaced the car. The police repeatedly assured George that it wasn’t his fault – a worn brake line that suddenly blew – but he blamed himself. And so he walks wherever he goes.”
    “But why this trip? Every day at the same time?”
    “Every afternoon he walks a square exactly one mile on each side. They went over at 3:03 PM. It took him exactly an hour to make the four miles to a phone.”
    “And why is he doing this?”
    “He’s remembering.”
    “Is that the truth, Emily?”
    “Maybe, Nelle. Who knows? But it sure makes for a good story.”

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