Fearful Residual

“Understood,” I say while ending the call.

It’s all part of the job.

This is what I tell myself every time I get these calls.

It’s something I have to do.

That’s what I tell myself.

I look into the sky. It’s been engulfed in a pale glint, as it spews thick snowflakes.

The wicked, cool air stands as still as the ice  sickles along the park fencing that overlooked the frozen basin. 

The scene that lies before me is like a darkly, beautiful painting that was abandoned by a disturbed artist. Locked away in a cold, dark place never to be seen again.

He was in the park with me. Not too far from here. I lifted from my leaned position over the fencing and turned around, taking in the iced over grass and claw-shaped trees. 

The collar on my black leather jacket flared up in the cracked wind as the leather squeaked from the crevices of my arms.

Children prance about the snowy park. Some making snowmen, while others made snow angels. The innocence surrounding me almost made this a difficult decision. It made me think about a time that seems so long ago. A distant memory snuffed out, like the dying breath of a fallen soldier. 

I place my hands in my pockets. I left my gloves behind because I figured I wouldn’t need them. My hands remain concealed within my jacket, but air still finds its way seeping through it. Cursing at my exposed skin. 

I begin to saunter down the snowy path already paved by the concrete beneath it. My feet bite at the Iced road, crunching at it, like a hungry man downing his favorite bag of chips. With every step, I feel more and more focused on the task at hand. 

My eyes cut through the fast falling snow. The chunks plummeting from the sky collide with my gaze, burying my field of view. 

Regardless of this, I still see him. He’s leaning over the railing just as I was before.

He’s admiring the iced over basin before him. I stop in my tracks behind him, continuing to read his subtle movements.

“Lance...so, you’re finally here,” he whispers behind the snow.

I remind silent as if my feet weren’t just eating the ice off the ground a few feet behind him.

“I’ve been expecting you for some time”

“So you know,” I ask him with a slanted brow.

“Do you remember this park, Lance,” he asks, escaping the serrated blade of my sharp question.

“I do.”

“When we were children, we came here all the time. It was much more lively then than it was now. In fact, we would climb that very tree behind you.”

I peek at the tree with the corners of my eyes.

It was a dead tree at this point.

Almost a weak, white hue. It barely stood before us much longer. 

I walked closer to him.

“All this cold air and falling flakes is a testament to how much this world of ours has aged over time.”

I place my hand through my inner coat.

“I guess things really do change,” he says with a exhaled breath.

“Why waste this time hugging the past,” I ask him.

“Because that’s what led us both here, together.”

He looks at the basin in deep thought.

“First it was your father and then it was Claire. This business really is treacherous.”

“This isn’t about me,” I say, digging my hand through my coat.

“You’re right, Lance, it’s not, but hear me out for a moment.”

“I’ve allowed you to speak this entire time.”

He looks over at me.

“If you remember nothing else, remember this.”

He grows silent for a moment. I can count the seconds between his breaths.

“Fear is stronger than love. Love and respect is all I ever gave you. And just like those before me, you only spread fear.”

I pause while the snow continues to fall. My hand comes out of my jacket.

This is all a part of the job

“How did we get here, old friend,” he asks.

The pale air escapes our nostrils, like hot smoke bellowing from an exhaust pipe.

“This is something that I have to do.”