FanStory.com - Walking Stick Ladyby Lea Tonin1

I must confess to struggling through a few emotional ups and downs. The old scars threaten you see. It's different this time though for "knowledge is power" or, if you prefer" armed with information". It's not a bad thing...

It is not the reopening of old scars, but simply the cream to make them fade.

It is sometimes difficult to draw the line between memory reality and reality. To remember what's finished cannot be repeated.

Back in time to a place in a park in the woods and to the young girl sitting in her campsite sobbing.

We are connected to and through a string of events and memories.

I want to tell her that I'm here on the other side of life. She's not alone, my hand reaches out to her...our eyes meet...

"Sitting here bawling like a bunch of sheep isn't gonna find out about the woman with the walking stick or if she was the one approaching my site.

And the other voice...who was the other voice?" I wondered. Time to find out. The thought occurred to me also that in future, when I come in and out of this campsite, I need to change my direction.

Human beings tend to be creatures of habit. It's habits that get us caught.

So I will vary my entrances and exits as well as the times I do it.

"Ok," I thought. There's something that needs doing which has nothing to do with self-pity. When I feel my mind going down that road of memory my heart slips and my sadness grips. Distraction is a must.

I have learned the art of turning my mind to a different task. It's essential to get my head out of a bad place.

Taking my mind from my woes, I set out to do just that.

Since Alpha Ghetti was the gourmet meal of the day, I peeled the label off as clean as I could and as close to one piece as I could. Folding the label, I put it in my pocket along with my pen.

A plan was forming. My compunction for distracting myself in tough times gave me an idea.

"What if that same art of distraction can be used outwardly?" I wondered. "Perhaps I can steer them far enough away to move them off to a different area." I quickly ate my lunch and put out the fire. With the empty can be lined up with the others intended to collect water when it rains, I began to prepare.

My joy at having access to a tap and water abated the last feelings of sorrow for now.

I stopped to enjoy that feeling for a moment and anticipated sticking my head under that tap again.

How do you spell relief? With a pen of course...duh

I had two pairs of jeans to wear. One pair the guys gave me and the other was the one I was wearing when I left. I changed into these as they were darker in colour and could provide some cover should I be seen. Slipping those jeans on and doing up the zipper, I let go.

Ever so slowly those jeans were slipping down. "Weird," I thought but then I noticed my hip bones protruding from my sides. My thighs looked like two sticks and my wrist bones were sharply displayed. I knew the time for me was running out.

But not yet...soon but not yet.

I pulled out the drawstring from the waist of my jacket and strung it through the loops of my pants tightening it up as best as I could.

Satisfied for now, I set out for the field by the school to my beloved water tap. I exited the trail much farther up than I normally do. I came up from behind the building rather than the entrance to the field.

Watching as I went, I headed towards the tap with my water jug in tow. I stuck my mouth underneath that tap again and let her rip. Many gulps could be heard if one chose to listen.

Not only was it good timing to find that tap, but it was good timing because I needed water and because the kids were out for the summer. No school kids hanging around meant I could access the tap reasonably well.

I soaked myself again letting the water run over me as best as I could then filled my jug.

Taking a look around and down the field my gaze turned to the general area where I saw the woman with the walking stick. If it was indeed her, she may return to the scene of the crime.

I entered the woods slipped inside the forest tree line and made my way down to the end of the field.

I selected a spot behind the tree line opposite the trailhead she entered.

Choosing a clear line of sight without being seen can be tricky.

Behind some foliage that grew right up to the trunk of a large tree, I found my spot. While my vision began, I set my mind to other matters and yet still kept an Eye on the trailhead.

I knew my youngest sister was doing okay with her father. Maybe not so much with her stepmother, but she got out of the fire for which I was happy.

But my middle sister troubled me the most. She was the only one left and taking the brunt of the wreckage. My guilt and my worry walked hand-in-hand with my need to know.

One light...my friends were coming the next day and I hoped for news. It wasn't long before I heard the sounds of footsteps crunching on the path and then heading towards the field. The voices of a female and a man I could hear. I couldn't quite make out the words yet, but that would come. Out of the trailhead and like a gift, came my culprits.

"Homeless people bring nothing but crime, drugs and filth. They have no business being in our parks or even in our neighbourhood." Those comments came from none other than the walking stick lady. "

Walking alongside her was a short, chubby man who looked to be in his twenties." Mom, you can't just go chasing everybody around with your stick!"

We'll find out where they are then call the city. End of story". The son made a frustrated one-eighty and headed back up the trail.

There stood the walking stick lady annoyed that her son had stalked off.

So I thought. "Well, he left, let's hurry the other one away too." I picked up a good-sized rock and tossed it just past her which gave a satisfying loud thump and crack when connecting with a tree. Startled, she jumped and turned to her left. I tossed another rock, at the same distance. But on the other side, again a loud crack. This time she spun in a circle, her walking stick went flying while she made a bee line for the trailhead calling for her son as she went.

A small smile crossed my lips as I waited for the sounds to dissipate. I walked by the spot she was at and I picked up the woman's walking stick.

Two constructive things happened today. Water and the clear, certain knowledge of who my perpetrators were and why.

Tomorrow was going to be even more constructive...and kind of fun too.

As I sit here now, reading back what I've written a smile does come to my face. At this particular time, the woman with the walking stick and her scruffy-looking, chubby son were about to have some lessons.

All this from a young girl who happens to know her way around a tree.