Part 2

Boss: Hi Matt, I want to get straight to the point. You are one of my best employees, and you, for me, are irreplaceable. But as our boss was placed behind bars because of tax evasion, it hit our company hard, we have no choice but to drop everything. The president's secretary has already filed for bankruptcy, and I was given the hard task of informing all the managers. So here I am. We're very very sorry. Have a good life ahead.

I stared out the glass window in that warm diner and composed myself. I didn't know our boss was evading his taxes. It took me some hard earned years to get to that point, then all of it was just tossed out the window. I went back at munching burritos and quickly finished my drink, then I headed out to walk myself home. It was a cold autumn night, the streets are filled with cars, people returning home from work, some others walking along with masks on and scarfs out. Everybody is a stranger here, most are walking alone heading somewhere, some teenagers smoking in the dark, and groups of friends laughing along by the benches. The buildings tall and high glitter in the night and replace the glory of the stars, the concrete highways fill with red and yellow beams circling all around the big city. Cinema signs glow up with the movie titles up front, and big commercial boards light up and fill the streets like daylight. The filling light in my eyes blind me, and I just want to close them up and shut myself away from it all. Then it came to my mind. I stopped my tracks and sat down on the bench.

Would it hurt to terminate my lease contract? Is what's happening now telling me to go back to the province? Should I just kick myself out of the city life? Hard decisions come upon my thoughts, but these are decisions that I should soon conclude on.

I opened my phone and looked at my contacts. I wonder if I should tell mom. It's been such a long time, and I don't think I'd want to disturb her. I looked at my watch, it's ten in the evening. Everything seems to be going slow this time, with the people walking, carrying their umbrellas even when it's not raining like some sort of night moist protection for their heads. Leaves almost cover the entirety of the street light's lamp on top of me, its dim glow relaxes my eyes and mind and lets me unwind for a bit. The cats on the other side of the street surely ain't on the same boat with me. Things are starting to get tense as the other cat is vying for a mate and is about to get a beating from the other toms. The moonlight is absent tonight as the clouds are crowded and full, ready to pour some rain soon. I stood up and headed back to my place as the rain started. It smells like old perfume in my condo, the dusty television set and shelves compliment the atmosphere, as this has only been my place of storage and sleep for years now. Mother left this place for me before she went out of my life, it is her parting gift. I opened the small drawer beside my bed and read the letter from Grandfather again. Should I go? My mind is racked with thoughts right now, and I seem too tired to fall asleep.

I grabbed some tea to relax myself and spent hours staring out the city skyline. The blue aura of the moon is reflected by the tall tower's windows, its glow battling the commercial lights. If I decide to go to the country, I'll be leaving my dreams too. As they say, the city is where your dreams come true. Another thought came to mind: Maybe I'll just decide in the future and just take some time off. A month at Grand dad's house may take this weight of my chest. Yes! I think that's a good idea.

The morning after, I am a certified jobless guy. A jog in the park is not on my routine, but it's time to lessen these belly fats. I don't know how people can jog with their earphones plugged, mine keeps falling out. The city has this park that has a huge lake in the middle, surrounding it is a platform where people could run, fish, and do all sorts of activities, like zumba for moms and chacha for the grannies. Joined a zumba once, and I can say these moms have better stamina than me. I jogged a few rounds and noticed a woman around my age looking for something frantically in the water, but she seemed to hesitate going in the water herself. I stopped to ask her about her problem and she looks at me surprised.

"Oh, sorry?" she said.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Ah," she said smiling, hiding her laugh. "I'm just practicing my facial expressions in the water, it's for my audition called 'frantically finding something in the water.'"

"Oh," I replied. "I thought you were having an emergency of some sort."

"I do have some sort of favor."

"Hmm?"

"My grand dad has alzheimer's and I really need to go to the bathroom. Could you just watch him for me? If you don't mind. Just a second."

"Okay, yeah, I can."

She whispered a thank you, I think, but hurried off. Staring at the stranger's grand dad reminded me of mine. He is just there on the bench, among the falling leaves and the grey pigeons, looking at the lake while carrying his cane, and a notebook on the other hand. White shirt tucked inside a brown sweater, and grey pants. Classic people fashion, but also my kind of fashion. I wonder what he is thinking about. Maybe memories from the war? That's too judging. Maybe he's just thinking of his favorite pastime or maybe the color of his poop this morning.

I went and sat with him, a little distance kept.

He is not bothered that someone sat by, he is just as still as a tree, so I got curious and just tried to ask him in case he's dead.

"What are you thinking about, sir?"

He slowly turned his gaze towards me. He's still alive. Is that good news or bad for the stranger woman. I'm trying to say shut up to my thoughts.

"Are you asking me?" he said slowly.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm thinking about my teenage sweetheart whom I never got to see again, ooh so pretty that girl was," he said smiling. "Have you ever been in love, boy?"

"Me?"

"Who else am I asking, boy," he said looking sternly at me.

"Y-yes, sir," I answered.

"How many woman have you had?" he asked.

Now that is an awkward question. I bet this would be a battle between men and how many chicks we have dug in our lives.

"Five only, sir," I answered, actually I only had two. Trying to pose as a greater man than he is.

"Only?" he replied, still with that stern look. "Five is not an 'only', boy. You are a disgrace of a man."

He held his cane and points it at me.

"I have only loved one woman, and one woman only in my life," the man said. "And she is my Miranda."

His eyes teared up a little among that determined face. He dropped down his cane and looked back at the lake.

"I want to see how she is now, and I seem to know where she is, I don't know why," the man said. "Would you come with me, boy?"

"But, sir, your granddaughter is coming back soon, I suggest you stay here."

"Love waits for no one, boy. Come!"

I'll get in trouble for this. The man stood up, and as old as he is now, he walks faster than me. This man is quite determined and excited to see this woman, so my curiosity got the better of me. We scoured through the dancing crowd at the park and crossed the street with the green light on. We almost got bumped by a few cars, with me frantically signaling them to stop and apologizing at the same time. Reaching the other end, I stopped the old man from his tracks.

"Old man, you should not walk on the street like that!"

"You scared of cars, boy?" the old man said, walking past me.

There's no getting through with him, so I just followed on.

"You see boy, my Miranda and I were dancing partners then. The year was 1951, the time of the jazz. Oh we we're dancing alright, the center spotlight in our prom night. A good dancer she is. But as fire broke out from the venue kitchen that night, the gas exploded and a splinter pierced her left arm. The event suddenly came to a stop. Miranda's parents rushed her to the hospital and I never saw her again. I was left alone sitting on a bench outside the venue hall. Before prom night, I gave her the best flowers my high school allowance could buy, stood by outside her home and rang the doorbell. Her dad comes out and glares at me. I said 'sir, may I take your daughter to the dance?' He said 'only if she agrees.' My Miranda annoyed at her dad said 'dad, I already said yes to him days ago, stop intimidating him!' He kissed his daughter out and told me 'now you take my daughter home before nine or I take your life, young man.' Meanest dad in the block, but had the most beautiful daughter in the world."

After walking three blocks, we reached a huge vase with a plant stretching it's leaves out. The old man hid behind it, but I stood right out front facing the coffee shop. The old man peeked out and pointed at an old woman inside wearing a barista uniform.

"That. That is her."