Tears

He walked up the hill, hugging the side of the road. No sidewalks had been grown in this part of town and with all the blind curves one never knew what a car might do. Especially at twilight when the old pines create shadows that can confuse the senses of the commuters making their daily trek home.

He felt a certain serenity come over his soul as the road turned and he caught site of "his" wall. After all these years it still looked the same. Rocks with character had been pulled from a nearby streambed and cemented together to form the northern boundary of someone's property.

As a teenager this wall had been his place of refuge. Perched atop it he could see the valley below a patchwork quilt that stretched for miles. As the sunset he would hold his breath in anticipation of the dazzling display of city lights that would seem to miraculously appear before him.

It was here that he came to cry when he experienced his first broken heart. Probably the second and third one to if he was honest with himself. When the pressure at home became too much this is where he would hide. Silently cursing parents and siblings alike. Wanting the freedom that came with age but longing to hide once more in his mother's arms while she assured him that there were no monsters under his bed.

And now it was to this wall that he had returned. To find himself somewhere amongst all of the stereotypes he had become. He could not even be sure that his old self was still there buried in a pile of childish memories that had been discarded when adulthood called. He had learned his life's lessons so well. Lately he had begun to feel like one of those false fronts they have at all of the movie studios. From the front they appear to be real buildings but look inside and there is nothing to be found just empty space. That is what his heart and soul had become empty space.

Sitting here on the wall he could almost sense the presence of a specter from his past. His younger self who was not afraid of tears, who could cry while reading a book, or watching a movie or just because he felt like it. The one who wrote poetry and dreamt of fatherhood. The one who still believed in love and happily ever after. If only his younger self could see what they had become. So important, so successful, a life filled with material goods. Yet it was a life that now more than ever was filled with emptiness.

He could not remember the last time he had shed a tear. Or the last time he had read a good book. He thought of movies like "Old Yeller", how he had cried and cried when they had to put Yeller down. What happened to that child of emotion? Where had he gone? Why had he let him go? Good questions all but he had no answers.

Sighing he turned and began his lonely walk down the hill. Listening to the crickets sing and owls begin their nightly sojourn. Out of the darkness he heard the squeal of breaks and than he saw the lights of a car as it came around the corner. He stepped onto someone's driveway to so the driver would have plenty of room. Once the car passed he continued around the corner and stopped. There by the side of the road lay a squirrel that must have just been hit because as he watched the squirrel shuttered as it took its last breath.

He just stood there staring at the poor thing. He removed his t-shirt and used it to gently wrap the squirrels broken body. As he cradle the creature his eyes filled with tears and he began to cry. His shoulders shook with emotion and his breath came in great sobs.

He continued down the hill until he came to a vacant lot. He found an old bucket and began to dig a grave. All the while his tears fell turn the dry dust into mud. When he was finished he gently laid the squirrel in the hole still wrapped in his shirt and quietly recited a small prayer.

Silently he shoveled the dirt over the body and than he placed several rocks on top to prevent the coyotes from digging the squirrel up. Quietly crying he slowly made his way to his car. The tears had been cathartic. He did not know if this was the beginning of a new path or just a slight detour before he returned to the rut he had been trapped in. Either way the emotional release was good for him and he hoped a sign of things to come.