The Walk

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By Jonathan Crutchfield

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          When he woke up that morning, Terrance was already bored with everything he had in his home. He had watched every movie and show on Netflix and every movie and show on Hulu, and regular television had nothing good on. He had either beaten or was bored of every game in his library and on his PC. It had been a slow year for gaming and nothing good was out that he did not already own. Every book on his shelf had been read, and he didn’t have the money to go out and buy another one. There were no good movies out either, and there were none that he could even consider seeing for ironic reasons. He knew this, as soon as his eyes opened. “I have nothing to do today, do I?” he thought to himself, in an agonizing realization.

          With a pained sigh, he got out of bed, and made himself breakfast. This was not the first time he found himself in this situation, but it never got any easier. Despite all the times he had a soul crushingly boring day, he never quite figured out what to do to make himself happy. His social life was almost nonexistent, and what friends he did have were busy anyway. Some had jobs on the weekends, some were out of town, and some of them were difficult to deal with. Terrance was in no mood to have to talk to these friends. “Great.” He found himself saying aloud. “Just great.”

          He checked his phone. No notifications. He looked at Facebook. No new messages. He looked at YouTube, nothing worth watching. For about thirty minutes, Terrance sat in his chair, thinking. Thinking about what he could possibly do to enjoy himself. He tried to think of any alternative to the obvious choice of going outside and interacting with people.

          It wasn’t that he did not like people, it’s more like he did not get people. People are unpredictable, and Terrance did not know how to respond to that. Terrance could deal with it when he was at work, but this was tiring, and not exactly his idea of fun. He was always afraid he would say the wrong thing, and would always wonder if he had said something wrong after a conversation ended. The worst was when someone said hello to him, and he was so nervous that he would mess up that he said nothing at all.

          Terrance could not remember exactly when his problems connecting with other people started. Perhaps it was when his grandfather died. He had never experienced death before, and the ordeal left him depressed for over a year afterwards. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism he had built up after numerous times he had made a fool of himself, or perhaps it was just the way he was, and that possibility terrified him the most. If that were true, then it would mean that he could do nothing about his problems, and he would have to accept defeat.

          Terrance knew he had danced around the obvious answer for long enough. He would have to leave both his house and his comfort zone. He could not stay at home all day if he wanted to stay sane, and he couldn’t just go to one of his usual hangouts either. He had to go somewhere he didn’t normally go. “The park?” He found himself saying out loud again. “That’s where I’ll start, and I’ll see where I go from there.” He realized that if he were to go somewhere as public as a park, he would need to stop talking to himself.

          As he went outside, he realized that he had not checked the weather. “It is fine,” he thought, making a conscious effort to keep it a thought and not a statement. “It’s been so warm this year; I can probably wear shorts and be fine.” Fortunately for Terrance, he was right. The temperature was in the high seventies. Unfortunately for Terrance, the temperature is not the only reason to check the weather.

          Oddly enough, despite how much he thought about leaving his house, he had yet to look out a window for any significant period. He never took the time to look at the sky. If he had, then what happened next would not have been a surprise. As soon as he stepped outside, it began to rain, and hard. Terrance let out a sigh that was almost loud enough to be a groan, and went back inside.

          For three hours, he sat in silence, waiting for the rain to stop. He had to make sure that he didn’t talk himself out of going out. It’s something he did when he had something planned, and something delayed him, he would always try and talk himself out of whatever it was he was going to do. That couldn’t happen today. He needed this, not just because he needed to do something, but because he needed to interact with people. Fortunately, he was so desperate for entertainment, that three hours were not enough time for him to convince himself to stay home.

          After three, agonizing hours, the rain finally stopped, and Terrance began to walk to the park, only to realize that he had never been to the park in his neighborhood, and he didn’t know where it was. He decided to keep walking anyway and follow the street he was already on. As soon as he left his house, he saw his next-door neighbor, Thomas. Thomas was an older man who Terrance knew almost nothing about. Their few interactions had made it clear that Thomas wanted nothing to do with Terrance.

          One such interaction occurred after a particularly harsh thunderstorm. The harsh winds had knocked a large oak tree from Thomas’s backyard over into Terrance’s yard, smashing his car in the process. Thomas wanted Terrance to pay for the removal of the tree, as if it was somehow his fault. Terrance wondered what made Thomas so angry. Surely, he must have said something in their first meeting that angered his neighbor. Although he could not think of anything that could have doomed any chance of a real conversation with the man. It had never occurred to him that Thomas did not like Terrance through no fault of his own. As far as Terrance was concerned, it was all his fault. Terrance waved at his neighbor, got no response, and continued walking.

          While he was walking, he saw someone taking out his trash. He looked to be in his late-fifties to early sixties, with a farmer’s tan and thick, grass stained pants. He wore thick gardening gloves and a hat to keep the sun off his head. His lawn was pristine, and obviously, well maintained. It was clear just by looking at the man, that he spent much of his time taking care of his lawn and took great pride in it. Near his house, there was a diverse garden. Terrance thought that he might be a retired farmer, but he was only reluctantly retired. To cope with his loss of a sense of purpose, he took care of his lawn, and grew a garden. Terrance knew that these were a lot of assumptions from just a quick glance, however, it was all he had to go on. When this man saw him, he looked up at Terrance and said “Hey.”

          “Uh, hi.” Terrance said.

          “I haven’t seen you around before, you new here?” The man asked.

          “No, I, uh, lived here for five years now.” Terrance replied.

          “Then why haven’t I seen you around, son?” the man said. His tone was not accusing, but curious, and warm in a way that Terrance wasn’t used to, but welcomed.  

          “I, I don’t get out much.” Terrance stammered, slightly ashamed of his answer.

          “Well, my name’s Phil.” The formerly unnamed man said. Terrance noticed slight rural mannerisms to the way he spoke.

          “Uh, my name’s Terrance.” He said, doing his best to keep his voice steady, and sound confident.

          Phil walked forward, towards Terrance. He held out his right hand to Terrance.

          “Well, Terrance, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

          “It’s nice to meet you too, Phil.” Terrance replied, shaking Phil’s outstretched hand. Immediately, his anxiety set in, and questions ran through his mind. “He’s quite a bit older than I am.” Terrance thought. “Should I have called him sir, or mister? He said it’s a pleasure. Did my response make sense in the context? Should I have said ‘The pleasure’s all mine sir?’ Why is he being so nice? What does he want? Is he going to invite me inside? Oh, god! Am I going to die? Does he take his victims down into his basement, where he has a vat of acid to dissolve the bodies-what the hell is wrong with me?” He would have panicked more, but Phil’s grip was so strong, that it snapped him out of this chain of thoughts.

          “You alright, son?” Phil asked, making it clear to Terrance that he was must have been staring during the handshake.

          “Yeah!” Terrance said, trying and failing to act natural.

          “I think the heat’s getting you.” Phil said.

          Terrance looked up, and sure enough the sun was out, and beating down on him.

          “You wanna come inside and get out of the heat for a few minutes?” Phil asked.

          “Thank you, I think I need that right now.” Terrance said. However, he was screaming internally. Terrified that one of his paranoid concerns were correct. Then he thought that maybe it was the heat of the sun making him paranoid, so getting out of the sun was not a bad idea.

          Once inside, Terrance noticed how well kept Phil’s house was. The house looked old. Older than any other house he had seen in the neighborhood. Not that that was saying much, as Terrance had only been inside a couple of the houses. Although, even from the outside, this house looked older than the others. It was also much larger than the other houses.

          “So you said you’ve lived here for five years, where did you live before that?” Phil asked, opening a bottle of beer.

          “I,” he stopped himself. Behind his awkward smile he thought “No! You idiot! You ruined it! Abort! Abort!” “Uh, before I moved here I lived in Chicago.” He said, proud of himself for ‘salvaging the situation.’ “Nailed it!” He thought to himself. “It was actually pretty boring. I lived in one of the nicer suburbs, and I didn’t go into the city all that much.” Terrance said, relieved that he had gotten away with, for what would be for anyone else, a simple verbal hiccup. “So, what about you, where are you from?”

          “Well, I’ve actually lived here my whole life. This neighborhood used to be farmland. Then it started to be developed into suburbs. Not that I minded of course, I enjoyed getting new neighbors. I wouldn’t have sold my land if I didn’t want it to get developed. Fact of the matter is, as much as I liked the farming lifestyle, I had gotten tired of it. That’s not to say I don’t miss it. I do. But I had lived alone for a long time. So, when I got the chance to actually have people I could talk to be brought strait to me, I jumped at it. I still keep some crops growing in my garden out front there.” Phil answered, pointing to the front of the house, and towards the garden Terrance saw earlier. Terrance was shocked that his assumptions were correct. “I guess I must be better at this social stuff than I thought.” Terrance thought, excited that he was finally making progress after twenty-five years of being unable to understand people.

          Then Terrance realized that Phil was everything he wanted to be. Not a farmer, though Terrance had always respected people who had the physical endurance for such professions. It was the fact that Phil actively took steps to meet people. He didn’t care if he said the wrong thing or not. He didn’t care what somebody’s first impression of him was. Phil took the intuitive and said hello first, to everyone he met, even someone like Terrance.

          “Can I get you a beer, Terrance?” Phil asked.

          “I’d love one,” said Terrance. He didn’t normally drink, but he didn’t want to ruin this chance for human interaction. Such a thing as an extreme rarity for him. Especially considering he ruined the opportunity to form any sort of friendly relationship with most of his neighbors. At least, in his mind he had. He was just the neighborhood shut-in. The only thing keeping him from forming those relationships was the fact that he cut himself off from the outside world. But that was irrelevant now. All that mattered was making sure he didn’t fail this time.

          Phil brought out another cold bottle of beer and twisted it open. Terrance took a sip. It tasted better than any beer he had in a long time. Why? It was the same brand he would usually get on the rare occasion that he did drink. Was it because he wasn’t drinking it alone? That must have been it. The last time he could remember having a beer this good, was when he had his first beer with his father on his fifteenth birthday. His father decided that he could have one, if he didn’t tell his mother.

          Since he moved to this new neighborhood, Terrance was farther away from his friends. They were his friends since childhood, back when Terrance’s lack of social ability was normal for his age, and now he did not have the social skills to make new friends. Without them, he had nobody to drink with, so beer was just that, beer. It didn’t mean anything. Now that he had somebody to drink with, it was something more than just a beer.

          “Thank you.” Terrance said.

          “I’m glad you like it. I know it’s not the fanciest stuff around, but it gets the job done.” Phil replied, not knowing that Terrance wasn’t thanking him for the beer.

          Terrance looked around the house. He saw many old pictures. None appeared to be of Phil with any kind of wife or family. Using his newfound powers of observation, Terrance deduced that Phil was never married. However, there were pictures of what appeared to be a younger Phil, and his parents. The terrain in the pictures looked like the terrain of the neighborhood he now lived in. Minus the houses of course. Some of the crops in the pictures were the same as the ones that could be found in the garden. Terrance used these pictures to confirm Phil’s story.

          Terrance kept looking around and he saw wood figures. The figures appeared to be made in the image of deer, birds, and other wildlife Phil must have seen while he was farming. Terrance was going to ask Phil about the statues, when he thought “Wait, did he even do these?” “Did I assume too much, what do I do? Oh, god! Neither of us has said anything in a good two minutes. Is that normal? Should I say something? Is he mad at me? Did I blow it already? What do I do? What do I” Terrance was asking himself in a panic when he was interrupted.

          “So, Terrance, what do you do?

          “Oh, I uh, I’m a programmer.” Terrance told Phil. “I fix bugs in different company’s’ systems when their IT departments are not able to handle it. I also try and find ways to get rid of viruses or to protect against hackers.” Terrance explained.

          “That must be tough.” Phil responded.

          “Yeah, uh, it is.” Terrance said, not used to people being interested in his line of work. “Okay, just keep going like you’ve been going, and you’ll be fine.” Terrance thought. “You’d be surprised how many hackers there are out there, and how good they have gotten at getting around IT departments. I mean, there aren’t that many, but there are more than you think. I might get two or three hacker assignments a year. Most of them are just viruses that companies think are hackers, but when it is a hacker, then things get interesting. Sorry, am I rambling too much?” Terrance said.

          “Stupid, you’ve ruined it. You’ve come off as self-absorbed!” Terrance thought.

          “No, no, this is interesting, keep going.” Phil said.

          “As I was saying, Terrance, you’re a genius!” Terrance thought. 

          “Well, when I do have to deal with a hacker, I have to figure out how they got in.” Terrance said. The two talked for hours. They talked about mutual interests, of which there were very few. They talked about their families, and Phil told a story of a particularly odd Thanksgiving that happened about thirty years ago. Two people, who should have had nothing in common, had a connection that Terrance thought that he would not have again. Phil was just the kind of person that Terrance needed to talk to. He made the first move, something Terrance could not do, and Terrance was relieved by this. All he had to do, was respond after the first move was made.

          However, even something as important as this conversation must end sometime, and when that time came, Terrance was disappointed. Phil didn’t know how much this conversation meant to Terrance, and Terrance wasn’t about to show off how awkward he was. So, he had to hide his disappointment from Phil. However, before he left, he heard Phil say “Why don’t you come by again next Saturday? Say, 3:00? We can watch the game.”

          “What game?” He thought. “Baseball? Football? Hockey?” He wondered. He knew nothing of any of these sports. Nor did he have any interest in learning about them. However, he could not afford to say no. He had been doing so well. It was the first time he had held a conversation with a stranger in a non-professional setting in years. He decided he would return at the suggested time. “That sounds great.” Terrance replied.

          On his way back to his house, he saw his next-door neighbor again. He decided that he would not bother with him this time. The most he would get from him would be a growl or a grumble of acknowledgement. He was in too good of a mood to deal with such a cold person. So, he walked past him, without so much as a glance at his neighbor. He was relieved when he unlocked the door and entered his home. He was tired, and it was starting to get dark.

          Once at home, Terrance found himself smiling, as opposed to his normal neutral expression. He liked it. He would have to try it more often. “All right, you did good Terrance. Today was a success. But I wouldn’t be too proud of yourself yet. What are you going to do tomorrow?” Terrance said, finding himself talking out loud again. He realized how absurd it was, and he started laughing. He decided to make himself dinner, and channel surf until he got tired and he went to bed.