First half of the Short Story: Rediscovery

The hot solstice sun shined upon the bedroom walls, creeping up slowly but surely. Rays of light bounced about as if they were off to a party. A blinding light shines upon a young man’s face, illuminating its redness of the hot summer. He groaned. His world of peace and quiet was abruptly brought to an end as his hand slapped on the desktop for the clock. His eyes made out a rough shape of a red seven followed by a two and an eight. The man mumbled as he put the clock back at its place. He should have pulled the curtains the night before. He placed his hands on the bed and lifted his entire body off the bed. He lifted his left leg off the soft base of the bed and placed it hanging off the side of the bed. The man sat up and attempted to place both feet on the floor to stand. He stood onto the carpeted floor and glanced around. He walked over to the bathroom door, scratching his lower back with both his hands. As he scratched, the muscles of his back came to life, giving a moment of relief to the stiffness he had before.

He walked on the bathroom’s cold linoleum floor, his feet quickly releasing the heat of sweat onto the floor. With his back straightened out and feet cooling, he relieved the pressure building in his lower abdomen, and released it as he sat on the toilet. Finishing his business, he looked into the mirror. His reflection stared back. The man took his toothbrush and pasted on toothpaste and began scrubbing his teeth. He silently questioned what he should eat for breakfast. He questioned what he should do while exercising. A lot of things were flying about his mind; he could never concentrate on one of his problems. Why did he wake up this morning? What was the point of even continuing this harsh and cruel life? He rinsed his mouth off and splashed his face with water. He took a towel and dried off his face. His hair looked fine. It would do for the morning.

He quickly jostled on his lifeguarding shorts and put on a simple white T-shirt that said: “Boston Marathon”. The man walked up to the coffee pot. The water from last night was still there. It was fine to drink that water, especially if he boiled it. He started the machine to heat the water. He opened a bag of brown powder into a cup. He threw the bag in the trash, walking to his doorstep as he did so. He opened to door to see the daily newspaper lying on his doormat. He picked it up and walked back inside, closing the door as he went. The water in the pot was boiling. He poured all of it into the cup and stirred it. He sipped at the black coffee.

The man took note of the picture of his girlfriend, smiling back in her tight swimsuit. They were both hugging each other from the long day, and that was the start of their relationship. Both of them shared similar interests, one of the bonds that held them together as they continued dating throughout the years.

The man began asking himself what he should do that morning. Fishing took too long. Bicycling would require him to fill the tires with air. Such chores were simply too hard to perform in the morning. He shouldn’t even go outside. The morning joggers and people appear as a scary bunch. Some would come up to him, say “good morning” in a nice tone, then shoo him away. The teenagers were the worst of them all. They would stand around the basketball court and not let anyone in, even screaming at passing people just casually strolling by. Why should he even go to the park? That would be just a complete waste of his time. He might as well head over to the pool and wait until it opens. It would be full of peace and tranquility, unlike the chaos he would go through.

He glanced down at his cup. All the liquid was drained, his body feeling regenerated. He rinsed it out and placed it in the dishwasher. The man slipped into his running shoes, the nice back stretch sent satisfaction up his spinal cord. He stood up and walked out the front door. He locked the door and turned around. The man made his decision. He would spend some time walking around the park.

Arriving at the park, he walked down the tennis courts. The tai chi lessons were already in session. The old grandmothers and grandfathers moved in sync. Their hands extended to the left, then back to the right, and their left leg lifted up for a kick. The man never understood why they practiced that. Tai chi was too slow to fight anyone, and it was not Yoga or anything of sorts. The man muttered to himself it was their decision, and noted to himself he must not become one of the old people when he grows to their age. If anything, he said to himself, he will spend his mornings in bed.

Walking along the sidewalk, he came upon the basketball courts. The courts were already occupied with the kids, their sweat glimmering on their faces. The others not playing crowded on the edges, screaming at the boys playing. As the man walked closer, he could hear the sneers and remarks of the young ones. Although they were not much younger than him, he sensed the disrespect they needed to learn. “It’s that guy again, why is he here? I thought we taught him a lesson.” “Why are people coming around again? Do they not understand these are our courts?”

The man had enough. He turned around and saw an open bench under the shade. He sat down. The day was already hot enough, he didn’t need anyone else making it even warmer. He waited. The man did not even know what he was waiting for. His life was in a spiraling abyss. He just did not understand why people would act like that. Soon an old man with a walking cane came by. He sat down. His hands were shaky and he wiped his forehead with a towel.

“Rough day, isn’t it sonny?”

“Not quite.”

“That’s what all you lads say when you do not want to make conversation. Didn’t those boys over there give you a hard enough time?”

“Why yes.”

“Everyday I come here. It is always the same routine. The people just gawk at you when you are not part of them. It seems crazy that I’m still here, I didn’t get scared off. I’m absolutely happy the way I lived my life, and I’m here to enjoy what is left. It is not time for people to criticize what I wanted and what I have. It is my life I want to enjoy, and it is not theirs to ruin.”

“Sir, why would you be here everyday? I don’t understand.”

Several minutes passed as the old man stared off into space. The baseball manager of the park drove up his John Deere to the fields. He unloaded the equipment. Piece by piece he set it leaning on the truck. He picked up the rake and began to vigorously scrape the sands around the mound. Fresh, wet, and new dirt surfaced as he labored away in the sun. He continued on.

After he got a good three feet radius around the mound, he stood tall. He took a moment before he turned around. He picked up the tools and carried them off to the side. He quickly got back onto the tractor and began driving it in circles around the field. The rake hooked to the back of the tractor kicked spouts of wet sand and dirt to resurface the dried skin of the field. He finished the field and began drawing the foul lines. He slowly opened bags of flour and poured them in what appeared to be a wheelbarrow. He slowly drew the foul lines by meticulously pushing the barrow slowly down to first base.

The old man cleared his throat. The young man turned his head. He waited patiently.

“Sonny, don’t you have anything better do?”

“Not quite,” the young man replied. “I still have about another fifteen minutes before the pool opens.”

“Why do you spend time to sit here? Don’t you have anything else to do besides talking to me?”

“Life is hard, sir. I just hate waking up every morning. The rude people always ruin it for you. People who disrespect you. I don’t like it.”

“What have you done in your life? Anything you are proud of?”

“Why, yes.”

“Oh? Do you just define life to be negative? Have you ever thought about the positive? What do you live for then?”

The young one thought about it. He had his girlfriend. He enjoyed seeing her. Her smile, her, her personality, and everything about her seemed to bring joy to him. He really lives just to see his girlfriend? “My family”, he replied.

“Do they make you fill with joy when you see them?”

“I guess.”

“You guess? Are you not sure?”

A silent pause continued. Meanwhile, a woman in her twenties jogged past. A male on a bike passing by waved to her and attempted to say hi. She ignored him and continued straight ahead. The biker frowned and pedaled away.

“Son, grow up and live your life the way you want it to be. Once you get to my age you will understand.”

The young man sat there with the old man for another few minutes in silence.


Also on the request of my classmate Robert Vargas, the following piece is added:
(Not part of the paper)

BANG BANG BOOM BOOM, EVERYONE DIED.