The Walk

"The Interstate is a fine, fine highway. Powerful! I can't imagine it's demise."
He loaded some water onto the comb before pulling it through a few gray hairs with a single stroke to the rear of his head.

"It will be there as long as man is on the planet!" He proclaimed loudly, turning toward the open door so as to be heard.

Then with a certainty of tone he loudly stated,
"It's a monument laid flat over which rolls all that man makes and sells. It is truly a monument and a testament to man's greatness."

He stood erect and made a final adjustment to his tie. He stepped over to a large singe-hung window which allowed a view of the expansive north f ield. On a distant hill a gust of wind kicked up a cloud of dust. He could see his father working the furrows and as he watched he muttered ,
"Damned Government."

His reflection came into his focus in the waves of the upper window glass which had never needed replacement in its one-hundred year history. With a puzzled expression he asked,
"Why have you survived so long?"

He walked down the hallway over the oak flooring which creaked and popped in response to each of his steps.
"I like the way this old house talks to me," he said loudly but fondly, and then he chuckled.

He stopped and pulled his bifocals from the pocket of his neatly pressed cotton shirt, took down a family portrait and laid it flat on the kitchen table. He poured himself coffee and watched the toaster pop up a single slice of bread. He sat down at his place at the table and bowed his head;
"Lord, Your infinite wisdom is irrelevant today."

He spread butter and then strawberry preserves over the toast and cut the slice into four sections. He dared once again to look at the image;
"Two wonderful daughters and three beautiful grandchildren, God, what were you thinking? How could you do it?"

After he finished the last square of bread he went to the cupboard and pulled out a perfectly cleaned eight ounce crystal glass and filled it halfway with cold milk. He closed his eyes as he slowly drank. He rinsed the glass and placed it upside down in the sink. He walked toward the front door over the oak flooring and then onto a long thick rug which received his footsteps in silence. He picked up his hat and turned toward the sofa where he had found her more than a year ago;
"I'm sorry, I have to go now."

He stepped out onto the painted porch and looked down onto the yard where his entire family and friends had gathered to honor him on his ninetieth birthday. Tears formed in his eyes as he began to speak;
"Friends and family, thank you all. Each of you are very special to me. It has been for you that I have worked and lived."

He stepped down onto the sidewalk and noticed the Irises in full bloom. At the end of the driveway he opened the gate and decided to leave it that way.

The mile and a half walk to the Interstate was lined with unnecessary fields and overgrown brush and trees. A crow perched high noticed his careless approach and directed loud caws toward him and then flew to a higher perch farther down the road. Knowing the ways of the crow he dryly said,
"Okay, okay. Today is your day."

The day was beautiful. The sky clear. A deep royal blue colored the infiniteness. The sun had risen past the horizon and was warming the chilled morning air. The oppressive drone from the Interstate became more distinct with each step that he took. He looked up to heaven above and told himself,
"What a fine day for the walk."