No Choice

You know, roads have been talked about ever since I can remember. A man walking down this road, a woman walking down that, here and there. Always its some kind of road, never really going anywhere, or at least the going is always much more of the story than the getting.

Well, I don’t know quite how I got on this trip but none the less here i was, on some kind of road. It was a december stroll around the neighborhood. The road was a dead end, I knew that cause I could see it. Up ahead there was a chain link fence with houses side to side. Not that crazy of course. Good little houses though, not to built up but not good wrecks either. They had some what of a quiet air to them as most ‘good little houses’ do. A good home is usually quiet.

The weather was exceptional at that point. There wasn’t any reason to doubt that: a bit breezy with lots of blowing leaves; different colors too, lots of them. It wasn’t hard to walk this way. Almost everything made it easy to do. The road seemed short though. It was one of those short walks where you can’t help but have a few thoughts in the back of your mind. It was shortlike, enough not to get lost in your surroundings, but just to stick to your own mind. I knew while walking that i would have to go back the way I came. Everything was blocked off, and on this particular day, I didn’t really feel like breaking anything down to get through. At the end of the road there was a chain link fence. Thats what I wanted to see. Not the chain link fence, but the view through it. I suppose thinking back now i could’ve jumped over the fence, but I didn’t really know where I’d go or even if it would be worth it. The only thing on the other side was a field. it was a good field though, bright green grass. I could tell that someone was taking care of it well, not hard to figure out.

So at the end of the pavement i stepped off into the dirt, stared for a bit. I guess at that point my curiosity was satisfied, or maybe I was just fulfilling some decision I made before i started that I would see this field. There it was. The openness did have some attraction. The field from behind the fence was open and broad, endless as far as I could tell. I thought busting through that fence probably wouldn’t make a difference at this point, because i knew I would have to go back through at some point. Or maybe i just thought i wouldn’t be able to see the whole damn thing all at the same time anyway, that I would get pretty far down the grass and wonder what it looks like to the left or to the right. I would get there and then go back to the side I didn’t go to and get the same thought. You know I don’t know what I would’ve thought cause I wasn’t there, I didn’t go through. But I think it was all the openness that stopped me. I remember thinking at the time, I’ve been hearing a lot about bustin on through to the open spaces, trying somehow to see the new stuff, get a little breathing room, see what I haven’t seen before. You know, the freedom idea and all it is. But I thought at that point, there was a road to the right of where I went back down the way that I haven’t been on, and out there in the open I wouldn’t have any idea about where I was going, and most likely I wouldn’t have any idea about how to get back or where to move on from there. for a moment then, it seemed like i’d be trapped out there on my own. I ‘ve seen it happen to others before. Everybody’s always telling you to make your own road and find your own bearings, but I guess I just don’t know about that. Seems like everyone’s trying to trust in their own compass these days. Well in any case I figured there wouldn’t be much choice either which way I went. The field would give up its own course, or the road whence I came would give up its own road. I thougt, well I don’t really know much on my own about goin this way or that, I’ll bet few do.

So there I was going back the way I came as I knew I would. The weather at that point was treating me real good. It was brisk, a tad chilly, but the sun was out and the wind was blowin’. It was one of those days you couldn’t forget, weather wise.

I walked down back the road through the quiet to the road I was thinking about. Open, a bit wider than the last. There was a Church I could see just a few blocks up with houses all around. I knew I couldn’t go inside at this point. It wasn’t the right time of day. Service was long past and I don’t know what I would do inside once I got there. Besides, there were two young folks hanging on each other at the entrance. I think they were doing some kissing or something like that, I didn’t stay to long to ask. I walked around to the side and found a brick bench that I had been to once before, not to long ago. There must of been say six or seven birch trees, or maybe maple trees all resting along the side, shedding their leaves on account of the wind. It felt like they just kept coming, because I must’ve been sitting there forever and they didn’t seem to stop. Cigarette in hand I began playing over the thoughts and paths I had just trod. I was wondering what this road was, or how was I going to tell it to someone that would listen? Would anybody want to to listen? Or even what was the point of telling? How is it that I have only one way of thinking about this road and that field and this brick by the church, and on and on. At that point of course the weather just seemed to up its brilliance all the more. I found myself staring off in a daze at the street over and beyond forgetting everything that came to my thought. While I thought that maybe I would be asking those questions for a while to come the weather then and there had its way of putting an end to whatever was going on. All the people around that way all stopped too, or so it seemed. It was a timeless moment of a good hard sun, cool breeze and not much else going on around: for me and those other people walking around or kissing on the church stairs. If that wasn’t a free moment then I don’t know what else could be.

I didn’t really make any decisions from that point on, but knew I was looking toward home, not because I needed it, but because I knew the option to stay out there on the road forever wasn’t going to happen. In other words I really didin’t have choice in that respect. Home wasn’t far away, and mostly I knew how to get there. So back the way I came, I went home. There were more houses on the way, a few picket fences and other folks walking around the same ways.

I didn’t really arrive at a decision in all that, but somehow knew that it was made up before I left. The weather, the field and roads, the Church by the side. It was all there before I left, and I guess was just waiting for me to come down and do what i was going to do. I don’t think in a million years I would’ve gone out in that field, not unless something else told me to, say the gate was open, or i had no other roads to go on. Nonetheless I was home, waiting.