ParkBench, Come Sit With Me

I looked at the different bottled preserved fruits line up in a three levels rack. The different flavors from strawberry, orange marmalade to mixed blueberry and lemon made up a display of colorful bottles of both local made and imported fruit jam. My eyes scanned the different brands and trying to remembered which one of these brand I bought the last time. I had my taxi waiting for me outside and told the driver to let the meter running as I only needed a moment to get a certain flavored jam which I have always bought for someone. My next destination was to dropped of this bottle of jam before hurried back to the office for an afternoon meeting. 

Somehow, that day I couldn't seemed to get my mind made up of which brand to choose. It wasn't a hectic time of day for grocery shopping and the bottled and packaged confectioneries aisle and sweets where I was standing facing the colorful rack was empty. I decided to take my time and continued to concentrate on the imported brands and trying hard to remembered the brand I bought the last time. 

Vaguely I could hear The Carpenter's "Yesterday Once More" played over the supermarket's PAs and standing there looking at the colorful bottled jars the empty and quiet aisle became my private space.

The romantic melody by The Carpenters soon shifted to a more upbeat and intense punk version by Redd Kross singing that same song in my head in that quiet empty aisle. Slowly the colorful jars of preserved fruits turned to empty clear jar filled with water and bright color gold fish swimming inside.

Yesterday once more was now a flashback of a young teenager walking by himself on an autumn day. The colorful autumn leaves fallen from the trees covered the sidewalk like a mixed of reddish and yellowish carpet. He dragged his sneakers over the carpet of leaves and smiled on the music he made from the movement of dry leaves brushing themselves against one another. He had been walking a few blocks from his house and had no particular place to go. Earlier he was lying on his bed in the attic of his house after school and looking at the colorful trees outside his window pane  he decided to take a walk on that autumn afternoon by himself. He loved the cool September wind especially like that day where it was cooler than usual. The slightly cold wind made his usually frizzy hair during the humid summer weather felt lighter and straight. He enjoyed the feeling of his hair flew freely over his forehead and fell nicely slightly covering his eyes. It made him feels invisible from the rest of the world and taking him to his own solitude corner where he sometime hide to find emotional ease and peace. 

Up ahead he saw a busy intersection and a line up of small neighborhood stores. He decided to take a turn to avoid the crowded area and continued walking on a quiet street. His mind wandered aimlessly in his imaginary solitary corner. It was a corner that existed since he was younger although he couldn't exactly remembered when was that corner built. Being the eldest in his family he found out that many things he had to learned by himself. When he was younger learning everything for the first time often had the outcomes of mistakes and disapproval from his parents. At times like that he often went to his solitary corner searching for someone to hold his hands and guided him to undo his mistakes. Growing older he decided to keep this corner of his and still wished that somewhere there he would found an angel that would held his hands and guided him through the running race of life. This search of comfort had also made him intuitive to the needs of other, especially the happiness of his storybook angel, the fictitious friend he depended so much for his search of happiness. The late September wind got stronger towards the late afternoon and he felt more dry leaves fell from the oak trees lining up on that quiet street. He looked up as he walks and could caught a glimpse of squirrels jumping off amongst the tree branches. Continued walking and made another turn headed back to the directions of his house the playful squirrels reminded him of his unfed pet gold fish up in his attic bedroom which he bought recently out of melancholic nostalgic reason about a movie he saw when he was much younger.

The visionary jar with water and swimming gold fish started to disappear and I quickly grabbed a bottle of imported orange marmalade. By the time I paid at the cashier and went outside to find my cab, I saw that it was raining. Running to the cab with my bottled preserved fruits inside a supermarket plastic bag I told the driver my next destinations which was only a few blocks away.

The soundtrack of the boy nostalgic movie kept playing in my head. I got to my destination and dropped off the plastic bag to someone who answered the door. Just before, while still sitting in the back seat of the cab, I gave the plastic bag an imaginary sealed with a loving kiss gesture.