Every Man

She sat down on the bench and sighed with relief at the shade the large tree provided. It was early evening but the heat was still up and she thought a good skating session on the river way would be a good release of tension. Things had been so bad lately in her life and she needed to do something to relieve the stress. Ducks floated by on the swiftly moving river and she could hear the screams of children in the distance at the park up the pathway. She wished she could understand why men did what they did. It seemed they acted without care or concern for whom ever their actions affected. She let a loud sigh escape her and was startled at a voice.

“That’s a pretty deep sigh there.” A male voice said. She looked up to see an old man, cane in hand, smiling at her.

She returned the smile and nodded.
“Yeah, well when you have man troubles it seems the thing to do.”

“Do you mind if I sat a moment. Heat and I do not get along these days.” He said.

“Please, sit.” She waved at the empty end of the bench.

They sat in silence a moment then the man pointed his cane at the ducks floating in the river.

“They have the right idea. They just float with the current. What’s the use of fighting their way upstream when they can float down stream. Sometimes you can’t fight so you just go with the flow.”  He said but kept staring at the river.

She considered his words and they did ring true, but cynicism had gotten a hold of her.

“But if they just float down river, the struggle to get back up is harder. They would have to walk back or fly. Perhaps a little struggle to get back up is better?”

“Perhaps but it depends on the worth of the struggle. You could fight the current of circumstance for a short while, win the battle and be rewarded but most often it ends up being a  battle of epic proportions and by the time you have reached the end you are exhausted and cannot give time and attention to what is important.”

Now the man looked at her and she looked at him. He was one of those non-descript old men that would never stick out in a crowd. Bowler hat on his head, tan khakis on, white tennis shoes and a white collared shirt, he looked like a normal old man but something prickled along her spine. He seemed to ‘know’ what was going on and so she paid attention.

“All I know is the battle I am fighting with…someone…is tough. I hate feeling like I am being ignored and left behind. I feel lost because he clams up and I know nothing. I have to guess. I try to understand, be patient and kind but hell, it’s hard.” She shook her head and looked at her skates feeling sadness fill her.

“Every man has some reminiscences which he would not tell everyone, but only to his friends. He has others which he would not reveal even to his friends, but only to himself, and that in secret. But finally there are still others which a man is even afraid to tell to himself, and every decent man has a considerable number of such things stored away. That is, one can even say, that the more decent he is, the greater the number of such things in his mind.”

With that the man stood and tipped his hat.

“Be careful of the heat my dear and remember, just because you did not hear the words does not mean they are not being said in his mind. Good evening.”

Then he slowly walked down the path to disappear around the corner.

She was so stunned at his words that she said nothing, not even goodbye. The words resonated within her soul and she realized he was right. Very right.
She jumped up and skated down the path, following where he had disappeared around the corner, to only see empty pathway for quite a ways.
There was no way he could have gotten that far, slowly walking with his cane.

She stood there in the twilight wondering what had just happened and then heard a loud quack.
A mallard duck floated by on the river, his green feathered head turning this way and that, she watched the duck float along the river. Peaceful and relaxed.
She smiled and skated off, feeling a little of that peace fill her soul.