Memory Lane

As time moves on, everyone must move with it. This is one of the most undeniable facts of life. I, however, am one of those people who has stopped to tie my shoes a few too many times while others walked ahead of me. That’s not to say I’m stuck in old ways of thinking. What I mean to say is, quite literally, I am going nowhere. I’ve burned more bridges than I’ve crossed just to stay where I am. While my past acquaintances move on to the bigger and the better, who I’ve always been will remain the only constant in my life; it’s a constant that I refuse to let go of.

“What’s new with you?” Esther, my childhood friend, asks while we’re out walking. “Same old, same old, you know how it goes.” “That’s what you always say!” She playfully slaps my shoulder as we walk past a playground full of laughing children. I wistfully fall back into yesterdays, long gone, when I thought nothing would ever change. “Are you listening?” Esther’s question snaps me back to the now. “Geeze, you’ve always been like that.” “Like what?” I push. “Off somewhere else, dazed, with your head in the clouds. I asked how you’ve been doing. Still taking those online communication classes?” “Oh, right, yeah. They’re going well.” An obvious lie. “How about you? New job going well?” I try to flip the conversation to her. She eyes me, unconvinced, but answers nonetheless. “Yes, It’s amazing! I was beginning to worry that I’d wasted my time in nursing, but I really feel like I belong there, you know?” “Yeah, I know what you mean.” I don’t. “I’m happy for you!” I’m overcome with envy that I don’t understand.

She continues to do most of the talking as we make our way through the park. The sun is low in the sky, and the cool autumn air becomes crisper the closer we get to her car. “Do you need a ride home?” We both know she knows the answer. “Nope. Thanks for the offer, but I have a stop to make nearby first, I’ll catch a cab later.” Another fib. “Well, it’s been nice finally catching up! Don’t be a stranger, ‘kay?” “Of course! I’ll get in touch soon.” We both know this is also a lie. We leave it at that and part ways.

I figure meandering through the winding streets will help clear my head before I head home. If I don’t, I’ll be stuck ruminating on how strange things feel with Esther these days. My thoughts instead drift off to the past when I still knew her, and it doesn’t take long for my surroundings to become unfamiliar. Did I take a wrong turn? I could have sworn I’ve been down this way so many times, yet I don’t recognize the street names. The thought to check my phone for directions crosses my mind, before remembering I haven’t paid my bill in months, rendering it useless.

“You lost?” came the croaky voice of an elderly woman behind me. “No, not really, I think I just took a wrong turn.” “That’s what it means to be lost. It won’t do any good to deny help.” The woman pressed on. “I know this area. Been through here enough to help you out.” “I’m ok, really. I just need to find my way back to the main street.” I tried to shrug her off, but she wouldn’t budge. “Main street won’t do you any good now, it’s far from here, and it’ll be hard to find your way back from this neighbourhood. It’s no good going through it alone.” I can’t help but let out a snicker “I don’t mean to be rude, but how can someone like yourself ‘go through it’ alone?” This woman looks ancient. “Told you. Been through here enough times. Now c’mon, these streets get confusing.”

Maybe I’m crazy, but the sky is darkening. What trouble can a little old lady be? Where she’ll lead me, I don’t really know, but I’m starting to care less about where I’m going.

I hate to admit that she’s right, these streets are confusing, though there’s something familiar about it. A heaviness that wasn’t there before hangs in the air, and the buildings lining the street look pristine yet abandoned.

The old woman is the only other person I’ve run into, and she hasn’t said a word since we started walking. She seems lost in thoughts of her own. Just when I begin to feel unnerved, I see someone else out on the street, only making my nerves worse. What’s a kid doing out here alone? The sun is nearly gone now. She draws a path in chalk from doorway to doorway.

“Dear, what’re you doing out here this late? You lost?” The old woman finally speaks again. “No ma’am, I live around here.” The young girl looks about 8 years old. “What’s that you’re drawing?” “It’s a path, so I can retrace my steps!” She exclaims excitedly like it’s some innovative idea. “Well, you’d better retrace your steps home, it’s getting dark. You can walk with us. By the looks of your path, we’re headed the same way.” The girl glances down the path she made before wordlessly joining us, and we continue in silence.

With the darkening of the sky, I become sluggish. It's as though my body is losing the will to go on. “Think we can take a break?” I ask neither of them in particular. “You stop now, you’ll never leave. Don’t wanna be stranded again, do you?” I’m not sure how to answer the old woman’s question. Or, maybe, I'm afraid of how I'd answer.

There’s comfort in the glow of the streetlamps, and a warm familiarity seeping from the surrounding houses. I find myself reeling from a rush of deja vu. Suddenly, I can’t help but feel apathetic about getting home. Something tells me this is the place to be – that I’m not lost at all.

The old woman’s hand on mine is what brings me back. Trembling slightly as though it understands. “Been through here enough times to know it’s no good to stay long. Let’s go.” Wakening from my stupor, I realize we’ve neared the end of the chalk path. The little girl is home. Safe. Goodbyes are short-lived; there’s no time for those here. The air fills with a nostalgic sort of melancholy, and I realize that I’m next.