It was a day like any other. The cool wind of autumn swept over me as I sat on the concrete steps leading to our porch. Somehow, I had ended up sitting here watching traffic pass. The highway was not but ten feet straight in front of me. A concrete walkway led to the sidewalk that ran parallel with the highway.
It was a slow Sunday, there were only a few cars coming down the road every now and then. When a car did come, I examined the contents of the car, seeking eye contact. Usually, people would go by without noticing me. These people were all caught up in their own lives. However, one or two people would turn their heads and look at me as they drove past. Something in their eyes seemed to be speaking, saying, "Who is this boy that sits here on a dreary day."
Summer was just over and the seeds of fall were planted. The sky that hung over my head was a dark grey. Water would soon fall and splatter on the concrete before me. This gloomy weather was enjoyable for the simple solitude and peaceful quiet that it brought. No one was outside except for me. I was alone on those steps. There was no sounds of people except for the infrequent visits of cars.
I find that the absence of white noise causes my mind to contemplate. Often, before I would retire into my unconscious slumber at night, I would ponder questions and try to formulate answers. The weather had brought with the peace questions. A simple observation of how a leaf moved through the air would give me more questions to ponder. It was the magnitude of concentration that sent me into a half unconscious, half conscious state. My mind, in an effort to give my contemplative thoughts a higher priority, had decreased the sensitivity of my senses. My vision glazed as I stared at nothing. The rustle of the wind no longer registered in my ears.
It was in this state that I was startled by the stranger. I was contemplating the origin of life it self when I heard a deep but soft voice call out. "You seem to be a man who worries too much about the questions of life to really enjoy it."
Startled, I looked up and saw a tall black man who appeared to be entering his late fifties. He wore light colored slacks and a white shirt with a collar. His clothing looked awkward as I looked up and saw it against the grey sky. His hair was slightly white on the top and he wore an eloquent beard that was also turning white. Behind a pair of glasses were his eyes which were shining with intelligence. He wore a smile that never left his mouth. "Who are you," I asked the man who seemed out of place in such a dismal environment.
"I am simply an old man who was walking and enjoying the peace when he saw a young man who seemed to be working his mind too hard." The stranger looked anything but old, he may have been old but somehow he had kept his youth. He extended his hand for me to shake. "Where are my manners, my name is Horace Butler."
I stood up and took his hand to complete the greeting. "My name is James McDuffie. I don’t seem to recognize you. Around here everyone knows each other. So I gather, you are a stranger to our town."
"Actually," his voice was authorative but gentle, "I am from nowhere and everywhere at once."
"That is nonsense, nothing can exist simultaneously as two opposite things. Or perhaps your statement means more than what the surface reveals." I was proud of showing my intelligence in analyzing his statement. I was able to appear to understand without revealing that I did not truly understand.
"Or perhaps you do not know and read too much into a simple statement." I was astonshied at how clearly he could understand my thoughts just from my speech. "But where I come from does not matter. May I ask you a question, I promise it will be a simple one, one that even you may understand."
Shocked by his boldness I answered with a feeble, "Sure."
"Why is it you sit here slothfully thinking, when you can be gathering knowledge and assimilating ideas?"
"I sit here to help me think. I have clearer thought when it is quiet and the quiet allows my thoughts to run free with out interference."
"Yes, but how can one think with a mind of ignorance. Can you discuss physics with a scholar when all that you know is biology?"
After looking for a witty reply I could only utter, "Well I guess not."
"So why not get up, do something and therefore learn something from what you do. Socialize with people, play baseball or football. Ride a bicycle around town, above all do something."
I was enlightened by his suggestions. So I stood up and told my new friend thanks. We shook hands and he started back on his walk. I hurriedly went inside to fetch a jacket. When I returned outside I was expecting to still see Horace walking down the sidewalk. Instead, I saw only the blank, white sidewalk I had already observed. I shrugged my shoulders and walked in the direction that Horace had come from. After walking a short distance I found a black boy who looked about my age sitting on his porch in the same manner I had. I startled him and myself when I spoke the exact words that Horace had said unto me just minutes before. It was then that I understood where Horace Butler had truly come from.
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