GIVING BACK A LIFE

I met him two months ago, at a park bench surrounded by a cloyster of buildings and trees somewhere in the metro. A strapping young man, to my eyes full of promise and life. Makes you wonder what this child is at wandering these grounds. As was my way I approached him, and as I came closer his features struck me. Handsome, in my point of view, with hints of creases along the edges of his eyes, a sign of laughter and a playful character. That, coupled with his smile, a smile that touches you even when not directed at you, would win anyone’s attention. Heck, even their hearts.
But as I approached him, something else struck me. This man is a sad man. He was sitting straight on the bench, looking at the sky, his gaze one of contemplation and, to me, regret. There was also a hint of fear in those eyes, a fear that might have to do with what he is going through right now. A wave of pity engulfed me then. So I slowed my stride, and stood beside the bench.
He seemed to have noticed me, as he moved from his seat and turned to face me. The look he gave me was one of question, somewhat quizzical and annoyed. He appraised me, and after went back to staring at the sky. So I sat beside him, wondering of ways on how to get him to talk to me. I was about to talk when he posed a question,
“tell me, what do you see when you look at the sky?”
I was taken aback by his query, and it took me a while to consider and answer his question.
“I see a great expanse of blue, some streaks of clouds here and there, and some birds.”
That seemed to have amused him, as a hint of a smile started on his lips and he turned to look at me.
“no, not that. Look again. What do you see?”
Exasperated at this offhanded command, I answered him, “I still see the things I mentioned earlier. How about you? What do you see?”
At that he laughed. A rich laugh, full of vibrance and mirth. This time the look he gave me was one of genuine amusement. “I see we have much to talk about. Come and sit, friend.”
So I sat beside him, and we started “talking”, as he put it. I wouldn’t call it talking, personally. It was more like a debate, a battle of two opinions. We debated about how things are the way they are, what should and should not be done, and a little more. Always I lost, at a loss of words to create an argument while he was at his element. He countered everything I answered and threw them back at me. We went on like this, when, after one discussion, he stood up, extended his hand and offered it to me. I accepted it and he said,
“well, as much as I want to chew your ass off some more, I have got to be on my way. Thank you veryy much for a wonderful afternoon. I’ll see you when I see you.”
And just like that, he walked away. I sat on the bench, thinking about what had just happened, and laughed . I have to admit, I enjoyed that “talk”. Enjoyed it to the point that I forgot what I was really there for. So I stood up and went to one of the buildings and went on about my day.

After a few days I was back sitting at my office. I was thinking about going out for a walk in the park, and remembered that man who was sitting on that bench. So I looked out of my window, and to my surprise, there he is sitting on that same bench. I went out of my office, down to the park and headed towards him. Seeing me coming, he waved a hand at me and motioned me to hurry my steps. I did so, and when I reached him I noticed a bag beside him on the bench. I looked at it quizzically, and he said he brought a chessboard with him, so we can play while “talking”. This guy was waiting for me? I asked myself.
“anything changed in your sky?” he asked me, to which I replied, “not as I can see.”

He shrugged and went on laying out his pieces on the board. So I sat down and laid out my pieces on the board and we started playing. After a few moves, he strated asking questions, which lead to our “talk”, as he called it. We bantered words with each other, all the while playing chess. After about an hour, he has won 3 games over me, and I’m still not getting ahead of him in our debates.
These talks went on for the next few days, us meeting at that bench, playing, at times, chess, scrabble, word factory or snakes and ladders. To be honest, I quite enjoyed them, those days at that park bench. It was quite a relief on my part, as with the work laid upon me sometimes gets the better of me, which in turn affects the people I work with. These debates and games helped me loosen up, which they noticed almost immediately. And he never failed. Every day asking me about “my sky”, to which I answered exactly as I answered the first time. Nevertheless, I liked this guy and enjoyed his company, even as much as considered him a friend.
At one time he talked about a girl, but when he did his face became so anguished that I didn’t bother asking anything about it. Let it pass, I said to myself. It’s obvious he’s hurting. So we went on with our games and talks.
A few weeks pass by, and our meetings took huge intervals from the last. He became more and more withdrawn with each meeting, and started to look out somewhere else more often. Again I let these pass, only focusing on enjoying his company. One day they stopped altogether.
I wonder why, I always thought when I look out my window and see the bench empty. Everyday I thought, I miss those talks, the games, his smile, his laugh. Everyday I laugh at myself, what are you doing? You, a middleaged man, missing a boy? But fact of the matter is, I do. I didn’t notice it, but I started thinking of that boy as my son, my estranged son. We could have done those things, my son and I. But we didn’t. Things wouldn’t been this way if we did. And who’s fault was it? His? No, it was my fault. I’ve thought about calling him many times, every time my cowardness getting the better of me.

One day, as was my new custom, I looked out my window to glance at the bench. To my surprise, a man was sitting there, with a bag beside him. It’s that boy! I exclaimed, laughing out loud. So he came after all! I hurried downstairs to the bench, and when I was close enough, noticed that it was not him, rather a middleaged man, like me. He noticed that I was looking at him, so I slowed my stride and came up in front of him. “Are you Jonathan?” he asked.
“yes,” I answered a bit apprehensively. “who are you?”
The look he then gave me became grave, and went on about explaining how he was asked to come and tell me to come with him. When asked why, he just dropped my friend’s name, so I tagged along. He led me up one of the buildings surrounding the small park, which startled me. I asked the man where he was taking me, to which he answered he was taking me to see him. Still confused, I followed him into one of the rooms, and what I saw made my heart jump out of my chest.
“Hi,” my friend said .
“What….?”
“it’s been a while since we last talked, but its nice to have you here with me right now,” he said. “I know this is stupid, but please hear me out.”
He held out something and asked me to take it.
“what am I supposed…?”
Apparently he didn’t seem to hear me. He took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one and took a few drags.
“how is your sky?” he asked again. When I didn’t answer, he smiled and said, “I guess you havent found your answer yet.”
After a few drags he crushed the butt in an ashtray, and looked at the thing in my hands. I decided he wanted me to use it, so I did, and after a few moments, started to talk.
“do you remember the first time we met? I mean, it wasn’t……..”
At first I thought he was talking to me, but then as I listened on, it was obvious he wasn’t. So I held on to the thing, and listened to what he was saying. He would pause every now and then for a fit of coughs, or to stop his hands and body from shaking. Every time I tried to put it down, and every time he held out his hand and asked me to continue. Then I saw the tears. His tears streaked down his cheeks, but he did not wipe them, rather he let them trickle down. It was with these tears that I gleaned what this was: he was saying goodbye. My own tears blurred my vision, but now my resolve to finish this held. I want to be here for him, I thought. I want to be there for my son.
At that thought, my feeling welled up inside me. That of regret, loss and failure. What if this was my son? What if this message was for me? We both wept and wept, he while continuing on his message, I, with the feelings that it invoked.
“..…my love, my princess, my life.”
He looked at me, and his look was one of thankfulness and regret. I set aside the camera, went back straight to his side.
“Thank you doctor, for this and for everything. Now I am ready…”

I sat at our bench, tears and emotions racking my whole body. Why should he suffer like that? Why him? He was so young, so vibrant. What right does anyone have to take away a life so gentle? These thoughts raged in me.
“do not cry for me….”
I remembered him say it in his message, but it seemed as though he was just standing in front of me.
So I raised my tear stained face and I saw it.
“so tell me, how is your sky now?”
At that moment I found my answer. I took out my phone, dialled a number and waited for someone to pick up. After three rings, I heard a voice say hello.
“hey, it’s me. No no no, don’t hang up. I just want to say something quick. I know I said things to you that were vile, hurtful and really spiteful. Im not asking you to forgive me for those. I just want to say that with me being so involved with my work, I neglected you and your needs, emotional more than the material. I even miscrued your intentions on building a relationship with me to be hindrances. I was blind. I was a fool, to think that what I was doing was for you, for your future, that I forgot the one thing that all I did was for: for you. I’m sorry for being a failure as a parent, for not being there for you, and for all the things that I did to you. I know what im saying wont bring those past wrongs to pass, but I just wanted to say that I love you.”
I waited for an answer, but didn’t hear one. The only sounds I heard from the other line was that of a soft sobbing, and I saw the tears on his face as though he was standing right in front of me. My own tears began anew, and we cried our hearts out together, both weeping but both happy.