usual suspects

The usual suspects were all present or were coming in. They didn’t look like it. Heck, you wouldn’t suspect them. But it could have been any of them. Looks can be deceiving though, as we will find out.

It was light and airy and breezy. The sun was cool, a little mellow in the sky above. The trees were sordid and standing tall. The animals were a little mellow, two ducks sleeping by the track, heads buried in their fluffy backs. Peacocks strutting around drowsily. Ducks in their enclosure, not creating as much of a commotion as they usually did. The yellow ducklings were chattering but their throats were strong enough to produce any substantially loud sounds.

This was a special day. No one would know it but him. Maybe his brother. But that would be a crime of necessity. Not necessarily of choice. It wouldn’t not be out of choice. His high. The feeling after. Would be incredible. But maybe he shouldn’t hype it up.

Regardless. One hour done. He’d passed the idiot uncles that went around, disregarding all rules. Walking four in a row, you were only allowed to walk two. Not wearing masks. Harming themselves and others. Walking in the wrong direction sometimes. It was one way. He’d passed the aunty and her daughter or niece or whatever, the one with the high pitched falsetto voice.  They always seemed to be gossiping. He’d passed the one uncle that from the back, although a little bit shorter, seemed to look exactly like his nana. That, and the other distinguishing factor was that this man carried a cane. He wondered what it was for. He didn’t have to wonder long. He realized it was probably to beat or scare, very likely the former, the dogs he chanced upon, on his way to this sanctimonious place.

It was almost six now. It was almost time, though he didn’t know it. He was waiting for his grandfather. Looking around. It was now a few minutes past six. He passed the main gate. The man was punctual, always on top. On the dot. So he had to be around here. There was another man, waiting at the start. Around his age. A jacket bearing the word airborne on the back. He passed the other man, who promptly began his run. His phone began blaring out instructions. A warm up first. They ran together for a quarter of the lap. He was silent. The newcomer was silent. He might have been uncomfortable with the silence, so the newcomer began to make small talk.

He saw his grandfather walking briskly up ahead.

The man in the airborne jacket was in the army. He had joined five years ago. He was here to pass the time. He had done a course with the Air Force, thus the jacket. They ran one round. The phone began to tell him to speed up. He did. So did the guy who’d been there for an hour before that. He was running faster than my regular pace. By about two minutes. But I kept up with him. Round two, the phone began telling him to slow down. It tried again. And again. He didn’t slow. I didn’t slow. Round three, I could feel my heart starting to race. I could hear his breaths. Then he stopped suddenly, abruptly, and said he was going to use the gym. We said goodbye. And I ran another forty minutes.