Main Character Vibes

How can death be happy?

Sunday was in the air at High Park. It was teeming with students, joggers, dog walkers, and loud talkers. All were dapperly dressed in their latest Fall collection, including the dogs, wearing clothes well-suited for a warm and sunny day but with an occasional brisk breeze cusping on the edges of winter.

Elias ambivalently drifted through the park while absorbing the ambiance of all that was autumn and falling around him. He was surrounded by a mosaic of foliage of variegated hues of yellow, green, orange, and brownish-red. The northern breeze whispered to him, through the rustling of the leaves, seasonal songs of what was yet to come. Whenever the cold wind blew, Elias derived warmth from cupping his hot cup of coffee.

People were emphatic about seizing the outdoors before the deathly Canadian winter pulled the rug from under everyone's ability to do so. Their mannerisms were a reflection of the climate that was shaping it. Even the squirrels and the chipmunks in the park seemed to be working overtime, anxiously rummaging under the scattered piles of dried leaves for sustenance to stockpile for the looming hibernation.

All forms of life at High Park seemed to be preparing for retrograde in a desperate attempt for communal gathering. Yet there was beauty in this natural degradation of aliveness. Although for the most part, Toronto was a vibrant city, during winter, it withdrew into itself. During winter, the city felt like a one-horse town where somebody had shot the horse. But thankfully it was not the time for that Ice Age yet. It was a pleasant day on an October afternoon. It was so early in October, that people had to look closely to distinguish it from September.

Elias walked aimlessly as he glided towards the usual park bench where he always convened with Wayne. It was the perfect spot in the park, located decently away from people and their irritatingly cheerful commotions. It was where Elias and Wayne had first met.

At first, Elias was simply a background character who was part of Wayne's morning routine. And to whom Wayne would amiably nod and smile as he jogged past him in the rising light of 5 am at High Park. But over time, the young man would slowly pique Wayne's interest. So much so, that Wayne would sometimes slow down for the sole purpose of observing the young man who curiously sat on the bench in the early hours of daybreak.

He would glimpse Elias from the corner of his eyes as the young man wandered the park, always with his cup of coffee. Drifting, forever seeking, rather wistfully, some vague turbulence of stimulating drama...or the reveries of simpler times. It was visibly clear to Wayne that Elias was carrying heavy bags of insomnia under his eyes. Which to Wayne was the non-verbal mark of a man of high intrigue, pushed by the city to the verge of some interesting occurrence – for better or for worse.

This went on every other morning... until one day, Wayne caved into the intolerability of his tickling curiosity and finally approached Elias to introduce himself.

Over time they exchanged phone numbers and these serendipitous encounters became planned meetups. They would meet over coffee and talk about many things; life, relationships, and everything in between. Wayne was like the retired sage elder of the tribe and Elias was like the young warrior who harbored a void in need of some vague fulfillment. This was how these two souls in a city of three million came to become mentor and mentee.

Today, Elias came to the park purposefully early. He wanted to write in his journal while smoking weed before Wayne arrived. Journaling was a very recent suggestion by his therapist who thought it might supplement the medication she had prescribed him. But the weed was Elias's own furtive self-prescription. Although the last time he smoked weed was in college, five years ago, he thought he might as well try it today. If anything, he reasoned, it might even help him get some sleep. But more so, it was the nervous episode that had happened during the week. Having deviated from his rigid routine for the first time in three years by skipping gym after work, he had tasted something that he hadn't savored in a while. It was addictive in as much as it was an acquired taste – and the chaos of it was balanced by the autonomy it gave.