Thank Heaven For Small Miracles

It's a beautiful night, but you wouldn't know it if you didn't know where to look. The streetlights illuminating the "Jacob S. Freeman Memorial Nature Trail" are so bright it's hard to even see the moon, let alone the stars. The entire circuit is paved completely flat with some kind of cheap asphalt. It's rather unpleasant to walk on such an unforgiving surface, but it rained all during the day and the grass is wet and muddy. I would hate to ruin a good pair of shoes, especially since the one's I'm wearing don't belong to me.

There are a few other people out walking the trail this evening. Occasionally I will see someone walking alone, like me, but more often they clump together in groups of two's and three's. They talk amongst themselves in hushed tones, as though they are trying to discuss a juicy secret or a taboo topic. Lucky enough for me I've kept my senses in my advanced age, I can still eavesdrop on conversations if I want. But it seems conversations are never focused on anything worth listening to, only polite small-talk or gossip. I don't bother to listen in on anyone these days.

I shouldn't be complaining, at least I made it outside. And it really is a great night for a stroll. It's cool, just a little above freezing, but I don't mind it a bit. The crisp air feels great, especially after being cooped up in that stifling room. Why do they insist on keeping it so warm? The heat in there seems overwhelming. I think it melts everyone's spirit. They seem lifeless, more like objects than people. Except for me, no one ever wants to do anything. No one even wants move at all if they can avoid it. I suppose that's the way nurses like it. Lethargic patients don't cause trouble.

Speaking of which I've seen doctors and nurses walk around out here on their breaks. I'll keep my eyes open for them, but I feel relatively safe that I won't run into one tonight. They hardly ever come out walking in the evenings, and on the rare occasions they do, they don't venture out-of-sight of the hospital. I should be fine this far away. I should, but I'll keep my eyes open just in case.

I get a few odd looks as I walk, but I refuse to make eye-contact with anyone. That, coupled with a purposeful stride and the severely white doctor's coat I'm wearing, is enough to prevent anyone from trying to start up a conversation. Thank heaven for small miracles.


There are a few man-made ponds near the trail, all of them look exactly the same. There is a waist high railing around each pond, and plenty of posted signs stating: NO SWIMMING, NO DIVING, NO FISHING. I can't imagine anyone wanting to swim in a pond like that, and I doubt that there are any fish swimming around in there. And even if there are, I certainly wouldn't want to eat them. Although at this point, would prefer the just about anything to the hospital food.

It's a little disingenuous to call this a nature trail. And although I have no idea who Jacob S. Freeman was, I bet he had nothing at all to do with this place. More likely some corporation was looking for a little PR and sponsored the construction. I imagine they thought naming it after some local muckety-muck and calling it a "nature trail" got better press than calling it the TechMoCorp Sidewalk or the AllWorld Bank Paved Asphalt Track or whatever. And I suppose if I'm being honest with myself, I guess I prefer the name "nature trail" to those alternatives. Naming something a nature trail, however, doesn't necessarily make it so. I guess it's just taken for granted that names don't really mean anything anymore. I'll have to look for a corporate logo or plaque or something when I get back around to the beginning.

The only thing that could possibly be considered natural out here are the trees. The trail runs through a wooded area too small to be called a forest. Mostly Oaks and Maples, with a few Elms and Birches scattered around. What few trees there are stand tall and proud, but on occasion I can see buildings past the scant rows of trees. The back ends of some new subdivision or office park, I'm sure. It's too early in the year for their leaves to be coming in, but I check the branches for buds anyway. None yet.

The trees put me in a better mood. A fair-sized Oak is growing near the path. I stop beside it and run my hand across the rough bark of the trunk. I look at the moon through the old Oak's criss-crossing branches. It's just us three in this moment, just an old man, an Oak, and the moon. It's a scene so perfect it should be a painting. The little miracles like this are what make everything worthwhile.



...Dammit! I completely lost track of time. How long was I looking at the moon? The doctors make their next rounds at 8:00, and if I'm not back by then then there'll be hell to pay. It must be getting about time to head back. Past time. I try to check my watch, but all I get is my bare wrist. I forgot I'm not wearing a watch anymore. They refuse to let me wear mine. But even if they haven't discovered I'm gone yet, I doubt I'll be able to sneak back in the same way I got out. I'm going to get caught, one way or another. I suppose I should head back and face the music.

As I near the entrance a veritable phalanx of staff workers is headed my way. At the front are three rather large male nurses with sour looks on their face. I feel bad for them, I really do. I don't like to cause trouble for anyone. But sometimes causing trouble is the only choice left.

"Mr. Preneki," the lead nurse says, "you're killing me. Dr. Thomas has been looking for that coat for almost two hours now, and I'm assuming those are Mr. Artifelle's missing pants and shoes."

"I wouldn't have to sneak around in disguises if you would just give me my clothes back and let me take a stroll now and then." I say with the most indignation I can summon.

The lead nurse is completely unfazed by my bluster. "You already know we can't let you do that, and you already know why."

"You keep telling me reason after reason, but none of them make any sense." I retort, "You can't keep treating me like a prisoner."

"If you keep stealing things and sneaking out, I'm going to have to chain you to your bed." the lead nurse says as he grabs me by the arm, rather more roughly than he has to, "Don't think I won't. We're going back inside now."

I am literally surrounded by hospital staff as we walk the last 1/8 of a mile back to the hospital. A young female worker I've never seen before pipes up from behind me. "It takes a lot of energy and effort to keep having to search for you Mr. Preneki. We don't have the time to keep doing this. You know you're costing the hospital a lot of money."

"Money can only buy illusions." I lecture my escorts. "I suppose our illusions can offer us the blueprint to actual reality, but truth and beauty are only seen by those who know where to look." They don't know what to make of my little speech, so they nod in a patronizing manner. The manner of every young generation forced to listen to the elder one.

I take a quick look around as we exit the trail. A fairly large sign proclaims, "Construction and Maintenance of the Jacob S. Freeman Memorial Nature Trail is Provided by a Generous Grant from AllWorld Bank."

I can't keep myself from laughing.