The Path

The man walked with his head slightly bowed, eyes scanning the ground in front of him and his arms swinging loosely at his side. Occasionally he would kneel down, placing his left knee on the ground. He chuckled as he reached for the rock and picked it up. The rock did not tell an igneous joke, no granite possibilities of humor. Not even a quartz of a funniness to fill a glass.

The slight expression of laughter escaped him because he knew the toe of his left boot was wearing down with every stoop, every kneel, every time he removed an obstacle that could cause an injury, the toe of his left boot would rub away. After he stood to his full height, he looked down at his feet. Sure enough, worn mark on his left boot looked back at him like a wide eyed child. Sort of as in wonder. "You know you are wearing me down so that I will never look like the right boot. Then you will throw me away and get a new left boot!" He believed the boot would say if it could talk.

"Not true little boot." He muttered under his breath as he began to walk down the path again. We have been through too much for me to get rid of you. You are stuck with me. He thought as he stooped to pick up a larger rock.

He walked up to a pile of rocks that stood as a sentinel on the side of the path. Reaching into his pocket he produced many rocks and pebbles in his hand. He deposited them on the pile, making sure none of them made their way back on the path.

Continuing on his way, he encountered a rock that was larger than any other he had seen on his path. He squat down and gripped the rock with both hands. Each hand curling and conforming to the shape of the rock as he lifted it from the ground. The weight causing his muscles to strain and tighten. He began to walk down the path while carrying the large rock. Each footstep plodding down heavily with the added weight. He looked for a pile so that he may set the rock next to it and help keep the smaller rocks from rolling back onto the path. As he trudged, he heard footsteps approach.

The man stopped and turned his head to see who was walking down his path. He had never met her and had no idea who she was, but she approached him with a smile and a question in her eyes.

"Why are you carrying that large rock?" She asked as she stopped next to him.

"Because it was in the path and I had to remove it so that no one would stumble or fall. I keep the path clear so that anyone that walks on it will be safe." He said as he turned and continued to walk the path with his burden.

"Why do you carry the rock with you? Why not throw it to the side and then continue on the path?" She asked as she walked next to him.

"Because I am looking for one of the mounds of rocks that I have already stacked. I want to put it next to the other rocks." He said with a strained voice.

"Why not just start another pile here so you do not have to carry it so far? It does look like it is heavy." She pointed to an area a few feet ahead on the path that would accommodate the rock and keep if from rolling back onto the path.

"When I reach a pile of rocks that I have already stacked, this rock will be placed in front of it so that they will not roll back onto the path."

He kneeled down next to his intended destination and set the rock in place.

"If I were you, I would just throw the rocks in the trees. That gets them off of your path and it is less strain on you." She said

She held out her hand and without a second thought he reached out his hand and held onto hers. He was surprised that he felt so comfortable walking hand in hand with someone he just met. However, he felt as if they had know one another all of their lives. He could not imagine a time in his life that he would not wish to walk this path and not hold her hand.

He know it was a strange thing to think and an odd way to feel. But, he did not want to let go of her hand. It had been too long since he had felt a hand in his.

They walked in silence for a while. He noticed that each time he kneeled to pick up a rock, she gripped onto his hand a little tighter. He stood. Placed the rock into his pocket and they continued to walk. After picking up a pocket full of rocks he pulled her hand and directed her to the side of the path. He reached in his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the collection of rocks. With care, he placed them on the pinnacle of a small rock mound. Pleased that they would stay in place he turned and they continued their walk.

"Why do you grip my hand so tightly when I stoop to pick up a rock?" He finally asked.

"Because I am afraid that you are going to let go." She said quickly, as if she had anticipated his question.

"Why are you so proud of your trophies?" She asked as she kneeled and picked up a rock then threw it into the trees.

"What trophies?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Your rock mounds. The little trophies you have lined up along your path."

"They are not my little trophies. They are stumbling blocks, things that could cause someone to get hurt. They are barriers to a safe passage. I simply remove them and then stack them to make sure they will not roll back into the path."

"Oh, ok." She said as she kneeled and picked up a rock the size of a baseball. "Would you carry this in your pocket so you can place it on one of your mounds?" She asked as she held it up to him.

"I certainly would not! I would carry it in my hand until I reached a mound. I would then deposit it on the mound or begin a new mound next to it, so that it may eventually mesh into one large mound." He answered.

"How would you pick up other rocks? Because, I am not going to let go of your hand. What would happen if we were to come upon three more rocks this size? You would only have one hand to use and that hand already held a rock." She gave his hand a slight squeeze as she waited on his answer.

"I believe that I would ask for you to help me." He retorted quietly.

They looked at one another and smiled. She seemed pleased with his answer. He was surprised that he would ask for help.

They continued to walk when she suddenly said:

"You still did not answer me. Why not just throw them into the trees? That is what I will do if I pick up a rock."

He was silent as they continued to walk. They reached a large boulder that crossed the path. He turned around and sat with his back against the boulder and encouraged her to do the same.

"I would like for you to sit her for a few minutes with me if you would not mind." He said quietly.

"Watch the path. Watch what happens."

Suddenly a rock broke through the trees and landed on his path. Then another. Sporadically, rocks of all sizes landed with a thud sound then rolled onto his path.

"Where are they coming from?" She asked with her eyes wide.

"You see. These woods are filled with paths. Many paths. Some of them cross one another, some run parallel with one another and yet some will never come close to meeting. Each one of these rocks and pebbles and stones and boulders are being thrown here from other paths."

He picked up a little pebble and held it in his hand. Worried it between his fingers, then continued.

"It has been a long time since someone has walked this path with me. There are times as I walk I am struck by a thrown rock. I cannot trust other people. I cannot expect them to think of others as I do. You see, I pick them up and pile them next to my path. It not only keeps me from stumbling on them, it keeps others safe by not being thrown."

He sat the pebble on a small pile of rocks that he had previously built.

"I know others do not think the way I do. I do not expect them to think my way. I know they will continue to throw their rocks. I know I will be hit by the things they have discarded. But I refuse to do the same to them."

He turned and looked at her. Held both her hands and was silent for a long time as he looked into her eyes.

"I am going to move this large boulder that we are leaning against. It is beautiful on the other side. It leads to a little piece of paradise. I had worked very hard to make it a desirable goal. While I was walking that path, each mound of rocks that I placed next to the path ended up connecting to one another. So, the path is now lined with a small cobblestone wall that allows a wonderful place for sitting. The last person I was walking with on this path placed this boulder here. She decided to go walk other paths. I have not been on the other side of this boulder and I have had no desire to remove it from the path until now."

He stood up and helped her to stand next to him. After letting go of her hands he placed both of his on the side of the boulder.

"Are you willing to help me?"

She smiled then placed both of her hands on the boulder.

Together they began to push. He had never felt so powerful, so happy nor so alive then he had at this moment. The boulder was moving. Very slowly, but it was beginning to create a furrow.

Then suddenly it stopped.

She had taken her hands off of the boulder and had turned around.

"Are you hurt?! Is there something wrong?!" He asked excitedly.

"No, nothing is wrong. I am just wondering about these other paths and the people on them. For those rocks to reach your path, they must really be throwing them hard. I bet it would be interesting to see if they throw them the same way every time."

She said as she took a step away from him.

"Why would you want to know how they throw and then encourage them to throw the rocks? You can see the end result. They cause other people pain and problems."

He turned back to the boulder and reset his hands.

"I think with a little more effort, this boulder will be out of the pathway."

He leaned into the rock with all of his might. He felt her hand on the small of his back and was encouraged that she was still with him. Little by little it was being moved off of the path.

Then her hand was gone.

He stopped once again and turned around to see that she was walking towards another path.

"Do you not wish to come with me?" He asked. "The path is clear. It is a beautiful place to rest just beyond the boulder." He said as a tear ran down his cheek.

"What you have prepared is probably even more beautiful than you described." She said.

"I want to go see them throw rocks."

"But, you will get hurt. They do not care about you or anyone else. They just throw rocks so that they can brag that they know how to throw rock into the trees. Then as long as they are satisfied, nothing else matters to them." He said as she turned her back to him.

"I hope you get your boulder moved." She said as she walked away then turned the corner of a different path.

He turned around then peeked around the boulder. The distance he had moved it allowed him a small glimpse past the barrier. As he peered around the edge she could see the sun reflecting off of the water. He could hear the waves lapping on the shore. The hammock tied between two trees swung slightly in the breeze as if it were waving to him.

I was his end goal. Something he wanted to share. Something he needed to share. Something he was willing to share.

The desire to share was gone.

He was tired.

He was worn.

He felt a fool that he thought he had found someone that would appreciate his desire to share with them. To explore and experience many new adventures.

After resting his back against the cold rock that, to him, felt as if it has grown in size, he lowered his head and began walking back up the path.

He stooped down and picked up a freshly thrown rock. As he stood to put it in his pocket, another rock came sailing through the air and hit him on the left side of his chest. He heard two people laughing then a congratulations on how far that rock flew.

He rubbed the area on his chest where the impact occurred and realized it was directly over his heart.

He stooped. Picked up the rock that hurt him. Put it in his pocket then walked on.