On The First Day Of Autumn (Part 2)

"Hey." I say shyly. I hold his gaze another moment and then look away. He looks away too and then back at me. I'm still wondering what prompted this painting so I continue. "Nice painting!" Of course, my voice comes out super squeeky this time.

"Thanks," he says and hesitates before stumbling over an explanation the picture, "It isn't wh-what you think, I was in the park searching for... a scene to enter into this contest." He's stumbling over words. I'm not totally convinced that that is his only reason for painting this picture, or for being in the park that afternoon. I am not going to make a big deal out of it, though.

"Yeah, I figured as much." I reply nonchalantly. We both stand there awkwardly for another minute. He starts looking around and I can tell he is slightly confused at the frozen world. We're the only two people moving at all even though everyone else is alive. So I suppose I'll explain it to him. "It's called a wish come true in case you were wondering."

"So you wished that everyone.. no, everyTHING besides us would be frozen?" he pauses "Then why me?"

"I didn't exactly plan it this way, it just happened. I dunno, like it was supposed to or something." I can tell he doesn't totally believe me, but I don't blame him since I did leave out the little part of purposely not picking someone else even though I could have. "Want to come explore this exciting world with me?" I say it half doubting that he would come, but also hoping that whatever made him paint that picture would encourage him to keep me company this autumn day. He glances up at the picture again.

"I suppose there's not much else to do all by yourself in a frozen world. Yes, I'll keep you company." Either he's really being sarcastic or he's being super serious. I try not to glare at him for being so difficult. I'm pretty sure he noticed though. Oops. Oh well. We leave the gallery, returning to the contrasting, bright outdoors. A woman is frozen in place obviously in the middle of her morning run. A business man is stepping into to his black-tinted-windows, black-painted lexus.

"I bet he's a secret spy for Russia" my friend suggests. If only he knew what that would prompt in my mind.

"Let's find out!" I skip over to the frozen man, but slow down as I get closer. MAN is he FREAKY looking up close. The 'secret agent', (as I will mention him as from here on out), has a black goatee and a short black buzz-cut head. I reach toward his inside pocket for his ID card.

My companion isn't convinced this is the best idea ever. "This is totally safe," he says sarcastically, but he doesn't stop me. In fact, he just pulls closer to me. I guess that's in case he has to protect me from the secret agent in case I somehow mess things up and this guy wakes from his frozen state. I have a card in my hand now, so I look at it. It seems like normal for the most part, but then I see another secret pocket in his coat. I sure hope curiosity doesn't kill this girl.

There's another ID in it. Says something in another language which I can't read. My companion, who is very close now, looks over my shoulder. "No. Way."

"What?" I ask. He starts laughing but at the same time starts pulling me away. I go with it.

"Kedi Soyluyor. That's his real name apparently. Seems to be an ID for a Turkish secret agent. Who knew?" Only one thing scared me now, his other card, the american ID, was for the US government. Of course this is the moment where my companion asks me, "What did the other card say on it?"

"Nothing." I reply as I stand under a young tree rocking back and forth. This seems to make him more curious so I continue, "Just a US Government ID that said John Smith." I got the desired reaction. Score! We decide to keep on exploring and leave dealing with a possible security risk to the country for a later time. 

"Okay," I ask him, "I've already done a little exploring so, if you could go anywhere in the world you wanted right at this moment, where would you go? Within reason of course."

He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head while murmuring, "She probably has not changed since last time I saw her. No point in that..."

to be continued

On The First Day Of Autumn.

I wish the world would just pause for one day. I'll be the only one still walking around. Maybe one other person if they somehow can convince me through their actions and speech that they're fit for good conversation and fellowship. I'll start at my computer but soon I depart on a journey. Let's say this person is not with me yet.

So, I go down my street. I see a man frozen in place just getting out of his car. He doesn't seem right to be my companion on my journey, so I hop into my car. As I get onto the nearby highway, I weave in and out of traffic, also frozen in place. I see a girl that I know a little bit, but I recall that her language is occasionally foul. I keep on going.

It's really a nice day. The clouds are frozen in place, but not in the way of the frozen sun which still warms my car on this cool autumn day. The highway comes along to a bustling city, frozen in its tracks. I get out of my car and start walking down a street lined with shops until one catches my attention. Inside of it is the most beautiful paintings on extremely dingy walls. It might be an art gallery I suppose. A sign is posted up that says: 'State-wide art contest winners'.I walk along this art gallery inspecting each picture as I glide past frozen people, but then an idea hits me. Instead of just studying the paintings, I look at the peoples faces around them.

One lady, maybe in her early thirties, is standing in front of a painting, wrinkles etched on her face as if she was twice her calendar age, but her face holds a slight smile. I turn and look at the painting she sees. It is of another woman, about the same age, holding an infant child who seems to be bubbly and healthy. Although the picture lady is about the same age as the real lady, not a bit of worry can be seen etched into the picture woman's face.  The worry lines and no child... the healthy skin with a healthy child... is there some connection? Might this hold the reason why the real woman seems so sad while she smiles ever so lightly?

I leave her there and continue on. I pass a frozen man staring at a picture of a family having a picnic on a bright day such as today. I cannot stand there much longer because the tear frozen on his cheek seems too complicated for me to understand. In this society, men usually do not cry, and ESPECIALLY not in public.

A child stands next to a mother holding hands. The woman is at eye level with her child pointing at the details of the picture. I glance up from them and see a familiar face. A close friend, whose conversation and presence is always a pleasurable experience, stands there, arms folded, with a very thoughtful look upon his face.

I can only wonder what he thinks, so I place myself next to him such that I can see what he is seeing. By first glance I just notice it's a portrait because my eyes immediately dart to the signature of the artist. "Wait." It sounds a bit awkward talking aloud to myself and I realize how silent everything is. not deadly silent, but I only hear noises as I choose to. "This painting... this young man.. he's the artist."

At this point I get very curious as to which piece of his artwork had won a place in the art gallery. I'm confused, amazed, shocked... The painting is titled 'A walk through the park' and shows a girl walking away down a bright leafy path with sunshine around, in a just-past-summer dress, her head turned around such that one can see the face. I look closer so as not to deceive myself, but it's still seems as if I am looking into a mirror. The details are so perfect it seems as if hours had been spent working on this project.

Memories flood back into my head. Last autumn we had passed by each other in a park and shared a few laughs. I hadn't seen him for the past year and this made me want to know even more how he was doing. What about that moment had stuck so well for him? He must have painted it straight from memory.

It's worth a shot I'm thinking. So I look into his eyes to see if I can read his thoughts. No, even here that does not work, but something in me decides that there is only one way to pull that person out of the frozen state and into my journey. I'm running out the door, across the street, and into a restaurant where I grab a pitcher of ice cold water. I trip over a foot and spill everything. Quickly I am up again and grab a new pitcher. Carefully, I bring it back, managing to avoid outstretched arms and legs. Back in the gallery I splash it over his head. He seems to wake with a start, his body starting to move as the droplets bead up and drip out of his almost-blond hair.

Ugh. Why do I never think ahead of my actions? Now we're standing here staring into each other's eyes both shocked and slightly embarrassed.......

TO BE CONTINUED??