A Short Story by Keith Nelson
Bird song whistled faintly from the woods by the well-worn footpath. Peering through the trees, nothing was visible but the shadows of the branches; opposite the woods lay a pasture of grazing sheep. They stood staring at him dumbly. He stopped, staring back at them. They judged him.
โItโs been about an hour,โ he thought, uncomfortable from the blank expression of the sheep. โI should turn around before it gets too dark.โ He broke the staring contest and headed towards home. The path he walked was very familiar. He and his father always walked it before dinner, talking typically about very important things like the weather, books, or about the dogโs behavior that day.
โI donโt get it; she comes up to me begging and whining to go out. I walk her, we go back inside, she starts it right back up,โ his father chuckled as the latch clicked shut on their old English cottage. The dogโs whimper could faintly be heard from the door.
โMaybe she just likes walking. You could always bring her with us,โ Floydsaid to his father as he turned toward the pathway across from the house.
โOh no, I couldnโt do that. See those berries there? When she was just a five-month-old puppy, I tried walking down this very path while having a conversation with your mum, just as we are now.โ He smiled, โThe whole time I thought my walk training was paying offโฆ no pulling or stopping; turns out she had been nipping berries right off the bush the whole walk! Face all blue and red from the juiceโฆโ His father chuckled to himself.
Stuck in his memory of the past, Floyd walked mindlessly over the roots and rocks below his boots. The air around him cooled down, and the sun now reached over the hills at eye level. It felt unnatural to walk alone. Dad always insisted on Floyd walking to his left. But not anymore. He could only insist on what he had written in his will: to take care of his dog, which now slumped forlornly on the floor at home with Mum. Floyd couldnโt bring himself to even look at it. It reminded him too much of his father. He knelt, picking a blueberry off a nearby bush.
โI wouldnโt eat that blueberry, looks much too sour.โ
Floyd shot up at the sound of a voice that wasnโt his own, looked for the source, but none materialized. He dropped the blueberry and continued his walk, a little hastier than usual. Floydโs expression hardened.
โWhy are you running away? You clearly need my help.โ
He continued walking, keeping his eyes focused on the dirty path ahead.
โI am perfectly OK doing everything myself, thanks. I donโt need you trying to fix it up again, not after what happened last time.โ
The sun had finally decided to begin setting on the English countryside, its orange rays touching the clouds above and covering the grassy hills. The beauty of the surroundings and the warmth of the sun clashed with Floydโs cold tone.
โYou prayed for wisdom and growth. I answered, just not the way you wanted.โ
Floyd was silent, trying to get back home as quickly as possible to avoid any conversation.
โI see your friends and the way they treat you at school. Why do you give them any thought?โ
โI like hanging out with them,โ Floyd quickly retorted. โThey like me as well. Itโs fine, and I enjoy it; I donโt want you messing that up.โ
Floyd continued walking; his gaze now focused on the sun-kissed fields to his right. He had only given a partial answer to the question. Because without them, Iโm alone. What kind of person wants to be alone?
โYou know youโre not alone; I hope Iโve made that clear. I wonโt leave you.โ
โIโm afraid of what happens when itโs just me. When I get back from class, the first thing I try and do is distract myself.โ
โHear and believe what I sayโI wonโt ever leave or forsake you.โ
The promise was too much to bear.
โI donโt know if I can trust you. I know I have in the past, and that was great, but now? I feel far from youโฆ and I donโt mind either. I just canโt trust you. I canโt see you.โ
They continued walking together for some time. It had grown significantly dimmer, and the air had a chill permeating it. Floyd kept his jacket unzipped.
โNot to be rude, but Iโm not sure how much closer we can be right now,โ he smiled, โI live inside of you; thatโs got to say something. I know everything about you. All your insecurities, anxieties, your past, your future, your family, your eternity.โ
โI donโt care, just let me focus on myself.โ
โRight. Just keep focusing on yourself. And what about your dadโs dog? Should he keep focusing on himself too?โ
Floyd ignored the question, focusing on the previous sentence. Your family. His heart leaped. Family. That means a wifeโฆA FUTURE.
Suddenly, a large black crow let out a piercing CAW, initiating a dive bomb from a tree up ahead and making a beeline for Floydโs head, interrupting his daydream. Aggravated from the birdโs sudden interruption of the pleasant thought, he ducked, throwing his hand up at it.
โStupid bird.โ
โYour situation is very specific to my plan. In fact, you must go through this now, instead of later. I just need you to trust me.โ
Floyd continued to walk, noticing they were nearing the village. My situation. Right. You take my dad, and thatโs what you call your โplan.โ
The dirt had turned to gravel and cracked beneath his boots. He tried to remember what idea was gripping him before the crow had rudely interrupted.
โJust think about what Iโve said. Take it one step at a time.โ
Floyd looked up.
โWhatโs that supposed to mean?โ
Gone. Floyd threw his hands into his jeans and walked up the street, back home for dinner.
โHey, how was your walk?โ Floydโs mother asked in a cheery tone. She sat at the table, a rather heavy book in hand, waiting on the oven.
โI went far down Winchcombe Way, right by Dr. Cainโs sheep.โ
She closed the large leather book shut. The golden pages shimmered in the light of the fire.
โThatโs great! Dinner will be ready in about 20 minutes. I cleaned up your room; I noticed it had gotten a bit messy.โ
โThanks, Mum,โ he said from the stairwell, trudging up the stairs. Opening the door to his room, he looked around at the clean environment. The clothes that had been building up, the food and plates, the trash stacked in the cornerโeverything had disappeared. The only thing that interrupted the now sterile room was the big white dog lying in the middle of the floor. The dog perked up at Floydโs entrance.
โHey,โ Floyd said, scratching the scruffy fur of the golden retriever. Its happy face looked at Floyd. One step at a time. It was obvious. The next step had nothing to do with him. He jumped up to his feet and patted his leg at the dog.
โHobbes? Care for a walk?โ





































