But I didn’t think I was crazy! I noticed a slowly turning carousel close by that had no one on it. The swings moved backwards and forwards as if they were ushered by a strong wind, but no breeze existed. Angel was nowhere around so I assumed she headed back to wherever her home was or to whoever she came here with. The bridge to the jungle gym moved in waves as if invisible kids ran across it. The cargo net attached to the jungle gym seemed to breath in and out as if it had lungs. Even the palm trees got into the act, moving like metronomes.
My world just turned into a damn cartoon.
I vigorously rubbed my eyes to see if it was the tears distorting my vision, but nothing changed.
Reality intruded on my thoughts when a deep and mellifluous voice asked, “Did you enjoy the music?”
I paused before answering because all the prior activity on the playground stopped. We were the only two people in the vicinity and everything became chillingly silent, except for our conversation.
“Hell yeah, I enjoyed your music! I was feeling you big time. I searched all over the beach trying to find out who was playing such incredible music. You were so into it; I didn’t think you knew I was here.”
He pressed his trumpet against his barreled chest. “Of course I did,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Okay… so who are you? What’s your name, man?”
“I’m known by many names.”
“Uh, huh.” I supposed it was going to be that type of day.
He fingered his trumpet as if he were composing a tune in his head. I wondered if he was blind. He blew a few extra notes and even those made my skin crawl.
“Absolutely beautiful.”
He bowed his head in appreciation.
“So check it out, what are you doing out here playing in this crazy fog? You should be on a concert stage making tons of money. You feel me? You are exceptionally talented. Don’t get me wrong, I love being your audience, but you need to share your gift with the world.”
“The world has always been my stage.”
“Cool, but for some reason I feel like I’m the only person that can hear you.”
A half smile creased his lips. “That’s because the song is meant for you.”
He said it with such conviction I was speechless.
“Please, sit down. I’m taking up all the space,” he declared gesturing toward the bench. He pushed up from the bench and, like the phoenix, kept rising. The man was about eight feet tall, with shoulders broad enough to cover two time zones. For a man with such an imposing physique there was a gentleness in his demeanor.
That’s not to imply I would call his mama names because he looked like he could knock me into another universe if he got pissed off; there was a grace and fluidity in his movement.
He wasn’t blind. I noted earlier how he casually sized me up with an intensity behind those sunglasses that made me appreciate his eyes were concealed.
This is probably something I would never say to another man, but he was one of the most magnificent looking human beings I had ever seen. His face looked like it had been chiseled and polished from the finest marble. Remarkably, there wasn’t a line, blemish, or wrinkle marring his visage, yet his thick wooly hair was whiter than the purest snow. His face even appeared to glow.
Once I sat down, he eased his enormous frame back down on the bench. I expected it to groan with the acceptance of his weight, but heard nothing, not even a creak. My wife used to say I was the world’s worst liar because my emotions colored my face like an oil painting. Obviously, he noticed it too.
“Why do you look so troubled, friend? I thought my playing made you feel better?”
“Oh, no question… it’s just… you said that song was only for me… like you knew I was going to be here.”
He cradled his trumpet and stroked it as if it was a newborn baby. “As a humble servant of the Lord, my mission is to play for all the troubled souls in the universe. This morning, I felt compelled to play a tune to ease the enormous pain I sensed in your heart. Aren’t you one of those trouble souls?”
Great. I had a religious freak on my hands. I should have got up and walked away, but I remained glued to the bench. “Yeah, I guess you could say that’s me.”
I felt him studying me, burrowing into my psyche. Those weren’t eyes behind his shades; they were more like burning coals.
“Why should a young man like you be saddled by such heavy sadness, brother?”
“You don’t want to know,” I mumbled. He didn’t say “Brother” like we did on the streets. He said it like it was all-inclusive.
“Yes I do. Speak to me about your distress.”
I stared at the sand, the cold air pinching me. Did this man actually think I was going to pour my heart out to a complete stranger?
“Be assured, you won’t find a better friend than me to speak to.”
It was like he injected me with a truth serum. Lips trembling, I told him.
“I ain’t been the same since my wife, Bernadette, died over a year ago.”
“I’m sorry. How did she die?”
For whatever reason, I sensed he already knew the answer, but the words poured out of me all the same.
“She was jogging through the park. Some gangbangers spotted a rival drug dealer doing business and opened fire. She was killed in the crossfire. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye,” I muttered, pain ripping through me.
“Again, I am very sorry. You have any kids?”
“Yeah, my son, Thomas.”
“Then you have been blessed.”
“No, I’m nothing. I’m just living day to day, man, that’s all.” I interlocked my fingers together and held them in my lap. My body quivered involuntarily.
“Why do you dismiss the fact you are blessed?”
It took me forever to think of what to say. It didn’t bother him. He sat there patiently fiddling with his trumpet keys until I responded
“Bernadette was everything to me. My whole life revolved around her. When she died, so did I.”
“But you have a son. He’s a part of her legacy.”
“I know that, but I don’t need you or anybody else preaching to me and telling me what to do because I’ve heard it all before! Bernadette is the one that wanted kids so badly, not me. Now she’s gone, what am I supposed to do—show Thomas how to get wasted like his Daddy does every night? That’s why I leave him with his grandmother most of the time. She can do more good for him than I can. I pay for all his expenses so he’ll never be left wanting.”
“You don’t love your son?”
Irritation ripped through my body.
“Of course, I do, man. What? You think I’m some insensitive, unfeeling asshole? I just don’t have the energy to do what’s right for him. He’s in a much better place living with Bernadette’s mother. Don’t you understand that?”
“I understand that you didn’t love your wife as much as you claim you did.”
“What the fuck?” I glared at him. “Did you even hear a word I said? All I’ve been talking about is how much I loved Bernadette. I’m still in love with her and she’s dead! How fucked up is that?”
“If you loved your wife as much as you’ve expressed then you should be showering your son with as much love and affection as you have inside of you. Whatever you were like as a father when your wife was alive gives you the opportunity to become an even greater parent to your child. Life is all about love.”
Why did I waste my time talking to this idiot? Furious, I leapt to my feet.
“You know what? Stick to your music; don’t you dare talk to me about shit like love. You can’t even begin to fathom what I’ve been through!”
I intended to storm off, but he quickly reached out and grabbed my hand. I tried to wrench it away from his grasp, but my hand melted into his giant palm. My hand tingled and prickled as electrical charges surged through my joints. A pleasingly warm breeze enveloped my body and I became so relaxed I had the sensation of floating through the air. I forgot whatever transpired before and closed my eyes, savoring the feelings of peacefulness inhabiting my body.