Being Apathetic Isn’t the Answer?

Being Apathetic Isn’t the Answer?

by Antoinette Gamble

Monday

The sun is falling. The streets are empty and the street lights are turning on. Leaves are crunching on the sidewalk. The best time of the day is now. So peaceful and quiet. There is a lone bench up ahead, a calm breeze blows, and the trees still have leaves left on them. This lone sitter is reading a math textbook. The smell of chocolate fills the air and, looking up, there is a girl who appears without a sound which is surprising since the second she’s noticed she starts talking. “Hello! How are you? Whatcha doing?” she says joyfully. Pointing at the book, hoping she will leave. “So, you’re studying. Why are you studying so late? Why are you alone?” she questions, looking like a confused dog. After making a shooing motion and going back to reading, she stands there for a while before deciding the seat is empty. A mumbled “Why are you still here?” floats through the air. “You look lonely and it’s late. I don’t want to walk around alone,” she states, like there is nothing weird going on. One is reading in peace while the other is chatting about anything and everything. An hour passes. The girl follows the loner to leave and chats on the way. Breaking out into a run, the girl keeps following. Exhaustion hits. Giving up and catching a breath, slowing down the pace with annoyance. Right in front is a two-story house. One window is broken and in need of repair. Besides that it is spotless. Walking straight towards the front door, the girl stays on the sidewalk and yells “Goodbye!” The sound of a door slam is heard.

Tuesday

The sky is cloudy and the wind is blowing. People of all ages are walking by. Some are on their way home while others go to stores or libraries. There are piles of leaves all over the ground. That same bench is up ahead. That blue and yellow bench that is always there. The bench that no one ever sits on. This recluse sits down on the bench, watching people hang out and talk to each other on those green benches in pairs or groups. Suddenly there is a “Hey!” spreading through the air. Looking up and watching her. She is skipping towards

me, she starts giggling and joins this loner on the bench. “How are you doing today?” she asks sincerely. “Fine.” a mutter slips past my lips. “Well, today I found this weird rock and . . . ” she starts to prattle endlessly. We pass the time talking about nonsense even though she does most of the talking. Neither of us seems to mind it.

Wednesday

The winds are strong today and the streets are empty. Leaves are blowing everywhere, making mini-tornados of leaves. This weather makes me glad I brought my scarf. I walk to the bench. The bench is the same bench that is always there when I need it. Arriving at the bench, “I’m here!” a shout sounds from behind me. A sigh fills the air and I settle on the bench. A quiet “On time. For once.” drifts through the air. “Yay! So I found a frog earlier-” she mentions happily. A soft “Frog or toad?” fills the air. “I don’t know,” she answers. “Where?” this brief question fills the air. “By the pet store,” she answers carelessly. A brisk “Return it.” travels through the air. “You think it belongs to them?” she asks. Looking at her with a deadpan face, I nod. “Oh! I’ll go bring Mr. Toady the frog to the shop!” she yells. The loud sounds of her running footsteps get softer and softer. This loner was alone on the bench once again.

Thursday

It is less windy today but still freezing. As I arrive at the bench, I witness a peculiar sight. She is already waiting for me at the bench. She notices me and starts waving her hands at me as if I couldn’t see her. “Hey! How are you? Want to talk about what I found today?” she asks cheerfully. “Hello, I’m doing fine. You are going to talk about it anyway.” I complain. “Okay! So—” she talks enthusiastically about her story. We talk for hours and I’m actually enjoying it.

Friday

Today, it is snowing for the first time this winter. The ground is covered in snow, kids are playing, and people are walking by. I walk towards that blue and yellow bench just like I did every day. This place holds so many memories from the past few months. I sit down and start reading a book. Twenty minutes pass. I’m still sitting alone and begin wondering, where is she? Suddenly, I see her running towards me. She is getting close and shows no sign of stopping. She is about

to crash into the tree next to the bench when she trips and falls onto the grass. “Why are you so clumsy?” I whine. She gets up and smiles like a fool. “Sorry, were you waiting long?” she says merrily. “Only twenty minutes this time. What delayed you this time?” I question. “I found a dead cat,” she says dejectedly. “Was it your cat?” I ask. “No, but it had passed away so I put it in a box. Can you attend the funeral?” She pleads. “You are having a funeral for a random cat?” I ask. “Yes,” she says matter-of-factly. “And you want me to attend that very same funeral for a cat I don’t even know,” I respond. “Of course,” she says genuinely. “Why?” I inquire. “To mourn the death of the cat,” she says like this is a normal occurrence. “I don’t even know this cat. Why should I care?” I ask. “Because being apathetic isn’t the answer,” she responds. “Being apathetic isn’t the answer?” I ask in befuddlement. “I’m glad you agree,” she responds cheerfully. “Fine,” I respond amusingly.