For A Moment: A Story

Two vehicles arrive simultaneously at the urban office campus parking lot. The first vehicle to arrive is a tan truck. It’s body panels luster have long faded and their folded tips show signs of brittle rust. The truck bed is straddled by a utility rack which supports various tools of the trade. A weathered lawn mower is cast to one side. Its gas tank’s flaking red paint is lathered with a pungent slick of spilled fuel.

A frail man, his beaten brow tells his age of roughly 40, opens the door and climbs out of the drivers seat. A stale potato chip and melted candy bar wrapper follow with a grand escape to the asphalt beneath the shadow of the truck. He pulls a drag from a saliva encrusted cigarette butt, twists it between a few coffee stained teeth, and flicks it down to the ground to be crushed by the gravity of a unraveling sport shoe sole. The kindling sparks sputter away like stones thrown on a lake as the crumbling filter gasps one last breath prior to extinguish.

The landscaper has made his twice weekly rounds for some twenty four years now. His skin is a crackled pale with sun spot freckles. A professional looking woman wearing a body formed skirt passes. The landscaper tilts down the brim of his sweat stained straw hat as a display of courtesy. He knows the drill, been there done that.

Moments later a sports car whips into the parking lot. The gleaming aluminum rim blades slice the air as the dark grey vehicle bends one final turn before coming to a complete stop. The gurgling engine gives one last belch of before shutting down. The door swings open and a pair of highly polished brown leather dress boots glide to the pavement.

A dazzling gentleman, sporting a medium blue suit, emerges from the low slung driver’s seat. His silver tinged black hair accent the satin nickel of his watch case. The shoes match the belt, the belt match the watch band, the watch band match the briefcase, the briefcase match the wallet, the wallet match the man. He securely shut the door and lasered towards the glass entry doors. His gait was well spaced with a brisk step. He stood straight up and his eyes observed the path with grand authority.

The businessman strides forward and crosses paths with the landscaper. They both provide the slightest downward nod of acknowledgment as the courses merge then diverge in opposing directions. The glass doors automatically open and the businessman slides into the building.

The morning is bouncing right along now. The landscaper grabs two wooden planks from the truck bed and maneuvers the lawnmower down to the sidewalk. More people are now moving along the sidewalk. The landscaper navigates them all with ease. He positions his green tinged shoe on the mower blade guard and yanks the greasy pull cord with a strenuous lurch. The mower engine shakes twice, sputters, bellows a plume of black smoke into the air, and vibrates to life at various frequency of idle and choke.

The mower gets up to speed and easily devours the waiting grass stalks needed trimming. The landscaper begins to walk the typical overlapping pattern. Shoots of fresh grass fling to the bare sidewalk

Meanwhile, in the office upstairs, the businessman is busy speaking on the phone. “What do you mean there is a surcharge on the component. You had that per your contract. Let’s not go rewriting the rules just because it’s convenient for you.” A well manicured secretary gently opens the business man’s office door and hands him a hand written with exquisite craft and care. The businessman silently takes the note and gives it a cornering glances he concludes his phone conversation, hangs up the phone and walks to the window overlooking the groomed landscape.

The businessman takes a deep breath, reads the note, momentarily clinches his jaw, and tosses the paper on a randomly staked paper pile. “The bank rejects the terms and wants to renegotiate.” His gaze out the window is never broken. He can see every blade of green grass swivel in the coasting breeze. The landscaper makes a pass with the mower leaving two spaced wheel lines behind him. The businessman’s forehead gradually displays a horizontal line, then two. Quickly, the lines dissipate and he compresses his upper lip. His eyes still fixed on the well organized nature below, he allows his focus to surrender and he thinks of a simpler time. He sees a vision of a small boy reaching up to middle handle of the buzzing lawnmower, his father walking just behind him. The little boy is beaming with excitement. His father has a curved smile as they walk in tandem along the fresh cut grass.

The landscaper continues his marching routine. He pushes the mower past the edge of the sidewalk as he rotates to begin the next pass. Grass threads are strewn along the sidewalk. The various office workers dash around so they are not attacked by the wayward strands. Some of them look in contempt. “Why can’t this be done at a better time?” “When is the property manager going to address all this noise?”

The landscaper stops the engine and pulls the mower backwards to a resting point near the truck. Another uniformly woman passes along. The landscaper enacts his customary cap tip and glances up for a sign of acceptance. The woman walks by swiftly without a notice. More workers pass, all looking ahead beyond the shielded landscaper and his invisibility cloak.

The landscaper looks from side to side, then up at the building. He sees the businessman standing at the window. The businessman turns momentarily and addresses another skirt wearing woman who has approached near the window. The landscaper below looks up and catches a moment of that interaction. He sees a well dressed gentleman speaking with a beautiful woman. He imagines their spirited conversation. He imagines that they are speaking about their dinner meeting later that evening. He fantasizes that the woman expresses how excited she is to see him later.

He looks down for a second to tend his broom then returns his shaded eyes to the window. The woman has gone away but the businessman remains. The landscaper thinks back to a time when he had dreams of being something important. He quickly looks away. He has entered a space within his mind that is painful when visited unsupported. He looks up again and the vision returns. He remembers what he wanted to do but how things seemed to get in the way. There was always something that came up. The pain makes another subtle entrance. He slams the door shut in his mind. He begins to cast blame to a variety of factors. Then, the pain turns into a slowly simmering anger. He tends the broom once more.

The businessman is still at the window. He gazes down to the yard. The landscaper is beginning to clean up. The landscaper seems to be all alone. Everyone passes without any recognition and notification. He is like an surrounded object peacefully resting in the eye of the storm.

The business man looks down on the landscaper. The landscaper looks up to the businessman. From a distance across the yard, they’re vision is connected in a connected steam of consciousness, yet they do not notice each other’s gaze. At that moment they are visually connected in spirit and time.

“What I wouldn’t do to have that just for a moment.” “What I wouldn’t do to have that just for a moment.”