The Walk

You can do this. You can totally do this. You made it this far.

Her own steps, echoing on the encased pebbles that made up the sidewalk, were making her uneasy. Lisa clutched her hands around the stroller's handle. Her knuckles flashed white.

Come on! You're a fully grown woman with a functioning brain. You can do this.

Despite the pepping monologue, she could feel her shoulders rising up, almost caressing her ears.

Not the almost caressing of a kind lover who keeps his distance out of respect for your integrity, or the casual brushing of the hair of a stranger in a tightly packed bus that feels almost like caressing. It was more of a "weird-ass uncle Joe who got drunk again at Thanksgiving and is now caressing your thigh, but you can't really say anything because it's an almost caressing and not a full-on touching situation, and he doesn't seem to be acknowledging it himself" kind of way.

There was something eerie and sickening about it.

Why are you so tense? You have no reason to be tense. They don't know anything about you. They have no reason to pay attention to you. In fact, you are just a small, whatever-looking woman in the street, who could be easily overlooked.

But somehow they never overlooked her. Somehow, she felt as if instead of the grey hoodie she was wearing a neon-green contemporary art statement dress.

A tall man was approaching from the other side of the street.

Her eyes kept darting back and forth, measuring the length of sidewalk that was left before the imminent encounter, wondering if it would be too weird of her to cross the street now or maybe start running.

Too late. It's always too late. She tried to seize up his intentions. His mouth squeezed open, the way a toothpaste tube that has no more toothpaste to give would.

"Blu-urf" — he chanted.

That's a friendly Blurf. I can see that... I think.

'Lurf —she mumbled, dropping her gaze to her shoes.

Please let me go.

She felt his eyes roll over her and back into the street. He didn't stop her. He didn't even slow down. It was just a casual Blurf, one of those that don't require energy or any mental dedication, really. A piece of cake.

See? You can totally do this! Her conscience chirped.

Then she felt queasy again. Was it even ok to "Lurf" back? Come on! It must have, else he would have stopped. He would have shrugged... or God knows what.

For a moment, thoughts of being dragged by the crowd, screaming and kicking, away from her little boy and into the nothingness filled her mind. Like dark clouds, blown by winds too fast, they filled her with a cold, wet terror and then blew away again.

Come on! One loop, and we can go hide from all of it again.

She pushed the stroller into the park's gate, then over the small bridge. Getting past the iron grate built into the bridge with the stroller was no small effort for her. Goofy movements and way too much time, she felt so out of place. Once again, she felt like an impostor. Even the park's entrance wasn't meant for people of her size.

The sun-glazed grass and lavish trees reassured the woman and her child, as they had many times before.

She looked left and right, making sure that nobody was close enough to hear.

We're in the park, my love — She whispered to the baby — One loop, that's all we have to do. One loop and we can go hide again.

She kept walking, the nagging feeling that she could be discovered any second constantly keeping her company. As her eyes were panicking up and down the park's path, they crossed more and more Blurfing strangers.

Why won't they leave us alone?

All those piercing blue eyes, forcing themselves into her soul. Forcing her to surface to the outside and focus on their sounds, those sounds she couldn't make sense of. Listening, waiting, hoping that her masking skills would be enough.

Then one of their children came rushing towards the stroller.

Blurfje-blurfje blubby

Blurfje-blurfje blubby

The child sang, his hands like overexerting tentacles, rubbing all over her baby's coat.

Blurf?

She tried. The child was unfazed. He didn't look at her; he didn't acknowledge her; his gaze was completely glued to her baby's face. The ugly taste of "Uncle Joe-ness" bubbled up in her throat.

Why are you so tense again?

Because where there is a child, there are parents.

She held her breath as the father emerged from behind the trees. His huge, scary demeanor and judgmental expression were everything she ever feared in one person.

She felt like she was standing naked in a frozen shower, in front of a judge. He was about to give her the verdict. She was not one of them, and he would know, and he would speak, and then... God knows what.

She braced herself for the cursing words.

But no words came.

Somehow, he didn't see her. As if completely unaware of her existence, he corralled his creature away from hers in complete silence.

Liza didn't move. She wasn't sure whether she could breathe again.

Then an old woman emerged from the same trees.

Her piercing blue eyes struck inside Lisa's soul. And then she sang one of their songs. The ones Lisa couldn't dare to repeat or comprehend.

Doomed.

I am completely doomed. She could not even try to pretend to join into the elaborate song that the old crone was weaving. A trap designed to uncover those who don't belong, to lead them out with soft tunes like the sirens did, but for the crowd to do with them as they please...

No. Not today. Not in front of my son. — Lisa forced her shoulders to climb down again.

I am a smart woman, and I can do this.

She positioned her body in a way that even they would have to interpret as "Yeah, I totally understand your song, but I won't be singing it with you because I don't have the time. I must take my little guy home."

She couldn't sing, so she tried dancing.

A nod, a smile, a shoulder scroll. Imitating the movements of the old woman, all the while keeping that "you can see that I have to go" stance.

When, suddenly, the old woman smiled and blurfed.

Yes! I know this one!

Blurf! — Lisa smiled and resumed walking, with the fake confidence of somebody whose only choice is to know what they are doing. And the old woman left content, without realizing that her song fell on deaf ears.

With the sound of her heart still filling her ears like a sickening tinnitus, Lisa walked away as quickly as she could. Once she turned the corner, finally alone, she parked the stroller under the shade of a big tree to rest.

We made it, my love — She said to her child.

She then kneeled down before the stroller, her eyes locked into his.

Ma-ma — she said, rhythmically patting her chest — Maa-maa.

His big blue eyes glistened, staring back into her soul.

Blurf! — He answered, with the biggest gummy smile.