A Curious Stranger

 As the night fell, the fog rose...up to greet the moon..and yes, as expected it was full.  Full of what-not, I do not know.  But still a daunting, haunting task it was for me to walk along the park lane.  Up ahead on the otherwise empty street, under the lonely lamp light was a curious character.

He was tall, with dark hair, a tall black hat and cane that he methodically dropped and dragged at different intervals.  I thought it strange that he would carry a cane because he was too young and an agile walker at that, so considered then that it must have been a fashion accessory.  Though not in this era.  It's so rare to find anyone using a cane unless it was for a functional purpose.

My mind wandered to a friend in school who had used a cane for almost 2 years after a car accident he was involved in during high school.  Some kids teased him unmercifically for this, which I thought was mean...because it wasn't his fault.

We became close friends and I often brought him lunch on a tray in the school cafeteria.  I cheered him up by telling him that there might have been some good that came from this because he was a better person.  Kyle was his name, and he never spoke to me before the accident, not even once...

Some kids thought he was lucky because he was excused from most sporting events and that often meant no long distance running meets at 6:00 am that I dreaded!  But soon his interest turned to the macabre and he would often write or draw about zany, often creepy things.  He was the only one who called me Mishy, (tho I hated it!)  We shared a lot things in common and many thought we were inseparable, but that was until he disappeared without a trace...

Where was that curious stranger with the top hat?  Did he just slow down or was it my imagination?  I looked up at the darkening sky.  The wind blew the clouds past the moon at a rapid pace and looking straight ahead again, I could see deadened leaves swirling around him.  He stopped for a moment, then turned his head slightly to the right as if listening for something.   I of course continued to walk but slowed my pace down a bit.  Walking a long the park lane was a bad decision - I knew this now, but it was too late because I was now too far the main road.  I felt intoxicated, like in a dream as I watched him clang his cane along the wrought iron fence, making it go clack clack clack...it reminded me of my brother on his bicycle when he used to attached a cardboard hockey card to his bike spokes with a clothes pin. clack clack clack
 

Finally passing that beautiful haunting house at the corner of the street, it looked so awesome under the moon tonight I thought.  I always wanted to live here, but my parents could barely afford to feed us, let alone buy an expensive house like that.  There were so many stories I had heard about this place growing up about the family that once lived there.  There was a mother and father and little boy who went missing one night when he was 6. I remember the whole neighbourhood was involved in a grid search for him.  I was too young to go, but I do remember my father going as he knew Mr. Perry, the boy's father.  Although they claimed to have found the boy, I never saw him come back to school, he never even said to goodbye. It was as if he disappeared without a trace...

Where did that stranger go now?  Passing by the 'Necropolis Cemetery' now, and I am trying to see inside it.  They keep it locked up after dark to keep the vagrants and vandals away.  But what is that in there? I see something or someone moving?  I tried to squint to focus in the dark.  Wait, I see the headstones, some of them just barely.  It's just so cold outside and from the rain, its worse. Just a dampening chill.  Much like the night that the little boy was found.  They say it was on a cold, damp October eve's just like this one....  I am still trying to see what that is in between the rungs of the wrought iron fence.  It's so quiet on the street, just the sounds of dry leaves rushing along the pavement..when suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder, I turn around and the stranger says, "Hello Mishy!"