Walking
Another fictional shorty story I wrote. Writing short stories, modern day subjects, is actually my weakness. I perfer not to writing about real people and real situations, so here was my shot at writing something for a class that wasn't whimsical.


June had a strange way of looking at things as Ryan's eyes moved back and forth, watching her and the road. She had the tip of her nose pressed against the inside glass of the car window, gazing at the world as it faded by as they passed antique stores, fast good restaurants, and the mountains that never seemed too far away. In town, you couldn't escape the mountains; their peaks were always there, just reaching up to the sky as if to meet the stars. June lifted her nose away from the car window and gazed at them with the same amazement of a child like she had never seen them after living here for eight years. She bit her lower lip as she lifted it into a smile and resumed position back against the window, only this time it was her forehead and not her nose.

"Find anything interesting out there?" Ryan asked.

"Hey, keep your eyes on the road," she said without even moving her head and looking back to know Ryan wasn't being a cautious driver. "You're gonna hit some one."

"I haven't cleaned those windows in a while, so you probably have dirt all over your face now."

"That's alright," June said, although she did move her face away from the window giving in to him too easily. She twisted under her seat belt and tried to get comfortable on the passenger side of the car. "The glass felt nice and cool on my face. Not too hot, not too cold."

June looked straight now as they drove and seemed to be restraining herself from going back to the comforts of the window. Ryan studied her uneasiness and wondered if June preferred leaning against the window more than she did leaning against him at night. He knew his body tended to overheat while they slept and she would roll away at first chance, dragging blankets with her, until she was practically off the edge of the bed. Sometimes her erratic movements annoyed Ryan so much, he wanted to just push her all the way onto the floor. It would have been simple after all as she laid there half on the bed, half off. Ryan turned his eyes over to the car window in slight jealousy, to see what was so special about it.

It was at that moment as he peered through the pane of glass that Ryan saw him again, walking along the side of the road slowly as usual, so slow that no one ever got a good view of his face. He was covered snug inside one of those winter coats that had marshmallow like characteristics to it. Nevermind the fact that it was another warm, spring night racing on towards summer. The fake fur lined hood was drawn up over his face, hiding everything but his gray and brown streaked beard. Ryan never saw his eyes, not once, but he accepted if he could that he wouldn't have wanted to really. For all Ryan knew, the guy could have been the grim reaper.

He didn't have a name, but everyone in the town had just dubbed him "The Walker". The name made people either think of a serial killer or some lonesome hero, but no one knew if he was either of these things for sure. No one knew anything about him for sure, even June who had been living in town for a longer amount of time than Ryan. The Walker just walked across town pretty much every day and he always seemed to be there along side of the road, with or without a destination in mind.

"Don't stare!" June said scolding Ryan, breaking him out of his trance. She leaned over and flicked him in the cheek with two of her fingers. Ryan rubbed at the spot in defense as she settled down back into her seat. Flicking some one always hurt. "Jesus, Ryan, don't stare."

"Okay, sorry, but I can't help it," Ryan said shaking his head. "I mean, the guy's just there all the time. I want to know where he's going. Maybe we should follow him."

"No, absolutely not."

June and Ryan, during many situations in their life had a good relationship and had enjoyable times together. Lately though, Ryan thought, she was too tired and too much of a downer to do anything. All he wanted to do was see where this guy was going that no one else had discovered and June wanted nothing to do with it. She did not want to be his first mate and help him navigate or find treasure. She wanted to sleep.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"Of course," June said. "I mean, can you blame me? All those after dinner questions." She paused and let out a deep sigh, as if she had gone through something dramatic. "You know, the ones your parents asked, were so exhausting. It might have been the turkey too. You know how people say turkey makes you tired."

"Right," Ryan replied.

The Walker never seemed tired, Ryan thought. He never stopped to stretch or yawn or sit down and take a break. By nature, Ryan was pretty lazy and he didn't walk very much at all. He calculated he should of, as he was getting older and it would catch up to him. But he didn't. Ryan laughed at the power walkers who went through the park, swinging their arms back and fourth as if to fly away. They wanted to keep up their muscle structure and build their bodies stronger. The Walker, on the other hand, seemed to have as much strength as he did the day before, without the arm flailing. He walked with uniqueness in his step and unlike anyone else, his stride said, "I have all the time in the world," and maybe he did.

June began to flick through the radio stations, stopping to hum along with whatever tune she came across that she recognized. On the way home, Ryan listened to her out of tune singing. He listened, because he wanted to concentrate on something else, even if he concluded her singing was bad. Ryan didn't want June to know he was still scouting the rear view mirror as The Walker became a tiny speck in his vision of the road. But some how, he kept walking through Ryan's mind.


Ryan didn't know why and he couldn't explain to himself the reasons that The Walker had stayed in his mind for so long this time. He was just there and it kept Ryan awake as he wondered where the man might have spawned from. Ryan glimpsed over at June for some answers, but she hung in limbo, sleeping halfway off the edge of the bed again, her legs wrapped up and twisted in blankets. Her snoring was light and soft similar to the purring of a cat. He understood she was asleep, but he needed some conformation.

"Hey, June? Hey," he started. "Are you awake?"

June moaned softly and turned away from the edge of the bed, a bit closer to the center now. She rubbed her face into her pillow for a second or two, trying to get comfortable, ignoring the disturbance of question. There was silence for a little bit longer and Ryan was not satisfied.

"Juuuunnneee," Ryan said as if trying to coax her to get up. "I know you're awake."

"Ugh, the most annoying question you can ask a sleeping person is if they're awake. What do you think, Ryan?" she mumbled.

"Well, you're awake now right?"

"What is it?" She didn't lift her head from the pillow.

"I keep thinking about The Walker. Where is he from?"

"What? How am I supposed to know?" she asked raising her head from the pillow now. She looked at the alarm clock and with annoyance in her voice said, "It's 4.37 a.m. and you're still thinking about him? Do you want me to tell you a bed time story or something?"

"Oh sure. That'd be cool."

"Oh god. Fine," June sighed and Ryan believed she had almost went back to sleep, before she started talking again. "The Walker wasn't really from this time. He lived long ago, even before such a thing as time was invented."

"So, that makes him a caveman? I knew it. I knew he was a caveman."

"Do you want me to finish?"

"Oh, yeah, right," Ryan said. "Go ahead."

"Anyway, before time was invented. It was this mystical land, with wizards and dragons and princesses and all that shit. Times were peaceful and the trees and forests were so green, you could see them glowing from miles away."

Ryan turned on his stomach and folded his arms under his head to prop it up as he listened to June, turning his eyes to her. He seemed to be enjoying the story for the most part and he was amused with the fact that he got her to even tell him a story. Ryan imagined blooming forests filled with fairies and immense, blue skies with only light wisps of clouds. He was willing to bet June would make The Walker a wizard in this story, with the beard and all.

"Anyway, The Walker was an apprentice to a wizard who lived in the forest," June continued.

Close, Ryan thought. He wasn't a wizard yet.

"The wizard was involved in the art of transformation. After years and years, he could change anything into what ever he wanted. He could change a rose into a raven or a duck into a troll. The Walker's job was to bring anything the wizard wanted to change to him so he could you know, transform it. One time, the wizard had The Walker wrestle and bring back a tiger just so the wizard could turn it into a house fly. And of course, flies don't last long, so the poor thing that was once this beautiful tiger was now a dead fly on the floor."

"That's sad," Ryan said.

"If you're gonna cry, I can stop."

"Nah, I'm good."

"On one particular occasion, the wizard challenged a dragon to a duel and he won. Chained the dragon up behind his cottage in the woods and kept the dragon there, kind of like a guard dog. It disturbed The Walker, but not the wizard. He wasn't satisfied, so what he did was change the dragon into a woman. She was real pretty, with scarlet hair just like the dragon's scales and the wizard still kept her chained up, because he didn't want anyone else having such a pretty lady." June stopped for a moment and took a breath as if trying to think what to say next. She rubbed at her eyes and then seemed to gather some ideas. "The dragon lady was frightened over the sudden transformation. After all, she was never a human before and she was exhausted from being chained down. Not only that, but the wizard hardly let her eat anything. The Walker started to sneak her food and each day, he'd try to unlock her chains and braces in secret so she could run away. He didn't want to see what was happening. The Walker began to fall in love with her, and likewise, because of his kindness, she liked him a lot too. Then one day, when The Walker finally got the chains and braces off, the wizard came home."

"Oh, man. Intense," Ryan said.

"Ryan," June said with a hint of a sigh, but she kept up with the story, mostly to finish it if it would help Ryan sleep. "The wizard was so angry he transformed the dragon lady into the wind. She was free basically, but she could never talk to anyone and she had no feelings. She just floated along and on some nights, you could hear her howling, like a banshee. The Walker was so upset, but the wizard wasn't through with the punishments. He set this powerful spell on The Walker so he would always try searching for her. So that's why he walks so much. He just walks all the time, because he keeps following her, the wind."

Ryan was silent as if he was contemplating the idea of The Walker's destination was just following the wind this whole time. Sometimes The Walker seemed possessed, with no set point to walk anywhere, so it could be true. It was a possibility, this whole fairy tale, and well, it was the best thing he had to go on. It was the best thing he assumed about The Walker right now and it was kind of fun to believe in.

"Wait, how's he still alive?" Ryan asked. "If it was so long ago..."

"I don't know," June said exhausted and rolling her eyes. "Some type of time warp spell. Anyway, can you sleep now?"

"I'll try," he answered.

"Good."

Within a matter of minutes, all June's story telling expertise had made her so tired, that she fell right asleep. Ryan tried to follow her lead, but he found himself drifting off into the magical land June told him about. He found himself jumping in the moment the wizard was about to cast a spell on the dragon lady and battled him to the death. Ryan won of course and The Walker and dragon lady were able to lead a sort of normal life. There were no time effects from spells that made The Walker endlessly walk anymore and for the rest of the night, Ryan let The Walker and the dragon lady leave his mind, as the couple skipped along through the forest. Ryan was pleased with the ending and soon after, he drifted off to sleep, scooting over to cuddle up next to June who would, once again, try to move away from him.


For lunch the next day during his work break, Ryan sat in his usual spot at the park. It wasn't really a park, Ryan speculated. It was more like a long stretch of green grass with a paved walkway that was spotted with a few pigeons, joggers, and people powering walking of course. There were a few attractions, however, like the fountain with a fish spouting water out of its mouth and the small baseball field that was used for little leaguers. But here in this excuse for a park, Ryan found a spot along the path and sat himself on the bench for lunch everyday.

Ryan was hunched forward and was dropping pieces of his sandwich onto the ground for the pigeons that ate it up, happy to get a bite of something. What they didn't see, Ryan said realizing the irony in his head, that the pigeons didn't know he had been eating chicken salad on rye bread for lunch. Birds eating birds and he laughed to himself for a moment, until he finished ripping off pieces of his sandwich and the pigeons no longer seemed interested in him.

He wiped his hands together with a brisk movement, dusting crumbs off his hands and shirt. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed an old man sit down on the other side of the bench. Ryan gave a weak nod to the man in greeting and lowered his head back to the pigeons again, as they flew off towards the edge of the park. He watched their flight and as they landed he noticed The Walker heading along side of the park. Ryan's stared again, not knowing what else to do. Here he hoped he had forgotten about The Walker after his semi-good night's sleep and there the guy was again, making Ryan's mind wander with possibilities. Ryan was questioning the basis behind June's bed time story and if it could be true at all, if it could even be the origin of The Walker, when the old man behind him spoke.

"He's weird, ain't he? Just walking like that all the time," the old man said and Ryan felt him move closer in the bench like what he had to say was a big secret.

"Oh what, yeah. I mean, I guess," Ryan said. "Well, no one really knows why he walks so much. Might be health issues, right?"

"Nah, not what I heard."

"And what did you hear?" Ryan questioned arching an eyebrow. Perhaps this old man had a better explanation than June did. Maybe he knew some underground secrets and finally, the mystery would be dissolved to Ryan.

"He used to be in the Mafia as most people say."

"Mafia? And he's not anymore?"

"There was some conspiracy going on and the Walking Man had a bunch of brothers involved. Once the boss retired, one of the brothers was going to inherit what the boss had, his fortune and everything. All the brothers were real jealous, because Walking Man and the boss took a liking to each other. They were real close and it was almost definite the boss was gonna pick Walking Man. So, the brothers wanted to kill Walking Man, their own brother, in competition."

"Sibling rivalry," Ryan added.

"Something like that," the old man said. "The boss heard some rumors going on that the brothers were spreading, that Walking Man wanted to kill the boss. The boss called Walking Man to his office and to ask him what was going on. But when Walking Man got to the office, the boss was already slumped in his chair dead. Blood was all over the floor and on his desk was Walking Man's prized gun, the one his girl had given to him for his birthday. It was smeared with blood and not thinking, the Walking Man went to pick it up just as an assistant to the boss walked in."

"He was framed," Ryan suggested.

"Yup, framed," the old man repeated. "By his brothers, no doubt. No one knows for sure, but Walking Man had to leave right away. So he changed his appearance a lot. He used to be more handsome I heard, not with that scrufty beard and dirty jacket. He's nothing like what he used to, and well, no one suspected a framed man would just walk around in daylight waiting to get shot, so no one bothered him."

The Walker stopped and turned to examine the pigeons for a moment. Ryan moved his head away, so he wouldn't see he was staring at him and turned to face the old man. The old man didn't turn his face at all. He just kept talking and nodding his head towards The Walker. Ryan leaned back on the bench a little bit, rolled up his sleeve some, and checked his watch. It was time to get back to work.

"They're still searching for him? I mean, no one found out it was really the brothers that killed the boss?" Ryan said.

"Nope, no one knows who really killed him. They just think it was Walking Man. Well, of course, they don't really know who he is now. They'd never think it was this guy. They're still hunting for the handsome young man from years ago," the old man answered.

Ryan sat up from the bench and threw the rest of his trash away in the near by bin. He waved good bye to the man, explaining he had to head back to his job now and that it was a good story. It was better than June's explanation at the moment and he wondered about the chances of The Walker being in the Mafia at some point. He headed back towards the edge of the park where The Walker once stood for a moment inspecting the pigeons. But The Walker was no longer there. Maybe he was chasing the wind or maybe he saw a member of the Mafia and hurried away to hide. Ryan wasn't able to feel satisfied with either guess, but he soon found himself back at his desk, trying to concentrate on the importance of handling phone calls from angry customers.


It was a small town and the only things big in it were the mountains. Ryan looked to them as the sun climbed down the sky and began to hide behind their peaks. The smell of gas lifted to his nose and he turned back at the pump where he was filling up his car for the drive back home. He tapped his foot and began humming, as the process of pumping gas seemed to be taking forever. On the other side of the pumps, two people were talking in another language and Ryan peeked his head through an opening at the gas pumps, as if he could understand what they were saying just by watching. He couldn't even decipher what language it was, but they seemed sad as they waited for their gas and Ryan gazed around to see if he could muster their topic of conversation. He followed their eyes and as the woman in the conversation raised a pointed finger, Ryan followed it.

There he was again, heading past the gas station. After all, it was a small town and the chances of seeing The Walker again were pretty high. Ryan looked back to the people speaking and the lady had already dropped her pointed finger. She moved around the car and got back inside as the man with her went to pay for the gas pumped. When the man came back, Ryan wanted to stop him and question him. He wanted to know what information they had about The Walker, but then he guessed they probably wouldn't be able to understand his questions as much as he didn't understand them or why The Walker walked so much.

He scratched his head thinking as the man who was with the lady came back and slid into his own car. From inside the car, Ryan could see they said one more thing about The Walker before driving off to where ever they were going. Maybe The Walker spoke a different language and that's why no one knew anything about him. Perhaps only those people knew something and now they were gone and Ryan would probably never have the chance of speaking to them again. He would never speak to The Walker, partly because he was too shy, partly because he was intimidated. What if the man started shouting angry phrases at him in tongues he couldn't understand? Ryan would just stand there speechless and then walk away embarrassed not knowing anything more than what he already comprehended.

Ryan remembered a time when him and his father went to go get gas and some milk from the store. Ryan was young then, maybe about six or seven, and his eyes scanned the road watching through the glass as they drove. He didn't remember seeing The Walker then, but he remembered seeing something else. His father must have left less than a minute before it happened, because not far from their house, Ryan saw a group of people and cars parked along side of the road. Ryan's father slowed down to let them cross the street and Ryan tried to see where they were going. He gaped back and fourth and his dad kept saying, "Don't look. Don't look. Damn it, Ryan." But he looked. Out the window he saw an old woman lying along the side of the road, her eyes still staring blank with blood covering around her face. A car had hit her and no one covered her yet. It was less than a minute before it happened.

Ryan had slumped down in his seat and his dad shook his head as he drove past the scene. Ryan couldn't get those eyes staring out of his head and his dad offered barely any comfort. "I told you not to look, Ryan." Ryan was sure the old lady was dead, even though he considered he might have been too young to realize death at six or seven.

Later, he sat at the top of the steps in his house, past his bed time and slid down a few to hear his parent's talking in the living room. She walked all the time, they said. She started in the early morning and headed to the post office on the other side of the town. Her family told her not to walk anymore, because she'd hurt herself. Well, they were partially right. Not many people knew much about the old lady or who she was until after she died, then all this truth was revealed about her.

The gas pump clicked to signal it was done. Ryan took the nozzle out of his car, placed it back in its spot, and went to pay for his gas. When he came back, The Walker had moved on like the ghost that he was. Ryan reasoned for a minute that maybe if The Walker were to get hit by a car, plane, bus, train, or any other number of things, maybe the world would know about what The Walker truly was after he died. Perhaps people would come forward and confess truths and share touching stories about The Walker. He would become something famous, just like Mozart. He would die penniless and people wouldn't remember where his grave was until they recognized just how important he was later. Then they would build a memorial for him in honor.

Ryan thought about The Walker and how his death might bring some peace to the town and for a brief minute he hoped the guy would pass on. It would be the best ending to The Walker's story, but then he realized he wouldn't have some one interesting to stare at any longer and he changed his mind.