Cosmo

September 16, 2019

Greetings from a fresh start,

Cosmo fought the urge to run.  He trembled, still upset, licked his lips nervously.  He sat at the curb for a while, watching cars go by, looking at every window almost expecting to see someone he knew.  He had mixed feelings there, all in the same instinct; part of him wanted to see a familiar face and the same part dreaded it, feared it.

He was fed up.  He had been frustrated, he knew it was coming, he had snapped at some of his friends, never a good sign, and that should have been some indicator he needed to take a break.  Maybe go to the country for the weekend, get some fresh air.  But he didn’t, and now it was too late.  He hated regrets, now had compounded them.

He knew had broken the rules.  He knew that going back was going to be a problem.  But going back felt less and less important.  He realized as he thought about it, it was already history.  He snorted a little laugh.  What mattered was that he was hungry.  And he had to pee.  Priorities.

He stood up and walked quickly across the sidewalk, looked around the corner into the alley and then narrowed his eyes, peering into the dim light there.  He quickly ducked behind the dumpster at the edge of the light, smelling everything rotting inside, felt both curious and disgusted. 

He stood again in the light, looking at people going by, trying not to get in anyone’s way, thinking abstractly how indifferent people were as they brushed past him, not one person paying attention to him.  Felt that same conflict between wanting to be noticed and to be left alone.

He’d heard them calling after him, as if it mattered.  “Cosmo!  Get back here!” God he hated that tone.  He outran them easily, and made his way to the street, and never once looked back over his shoulder.  Now nothing looked familiar and he had no plan for where to go next.  His heart fluttered in his chest, a spark of fear, then anger again.

Why didn’t they see what they were doing to him?  Why didn’t they know how it made him feel?  They had him running in circles, jumping through hoops.  What was the point?  He knew better than to ask himself, or anyone that question. Life was absurd, and to take arms against that truth was futile.  All anyone could do was make peace with their place in it.

 He trotted down the sidewalk, now thinking about food again.  He wasn’t going to worry about going back, stopped picturing the people who cared for him, or wanted him with them. He had to do what was best for him, at least for now.  He felt calmer just with that thought.

Cosmo knew that people didn’t expect him to be a deep thinker.  They didn’t understand that he had his own philosophy, evolving for certain, but one that he had in place all of his life.  He realized as he stopped in the teeming crowd, he had been ignoring his own personal beliefs, his own design for his life.  That’s what was at the heart of this tension, his irascibility.  He had been ignoring his own nature for too long.

He walked at the edge of the sidewalk for a while, lost in thought, considering his options.  He was bright, resourceful, and he knew better, in that moment, what he wanted from life.  All that remained was for him to seek that truth, and opportunities would present themselves.  He shuddered a little at the enormity of it, and then walked into the sun.

Cynthia banged the door open and stepped onto the sidewalk, already afraid of what she’d find.  Behind her, somewhere inside, the other handlers were standing, a tightly wound group of friends she hated, who she knew were all secretly happy that Cosmo was gone.

She pushed past the crowd and down the block, a permanent look of irritation on her face.  She finally stopped at a bodega, spotted a small man behind the counter. “Hey, excuse me, did you see a Jack Russel Terrier come past here?”

The man looked up, cigarette in his mouth. “Whassat?”

Cynthia huffed. “A Jack Russel. A small dog, sable tan and white. He would have come out of there.” She pointed back at the sign over her shoulder.

The man put the cigarette on the counter, the ash dangling over the scarred edge, and looked at the sign. ‘Purina Agility Competition’.

“Naw, Iyaint.” His eyes back on her.

“His name is Cosmo.  If you see him, please bring him back to the center.” she said, pointing again at the sign.  She paused, trying to discern if the man understood simple English.

The man picked up the cigarette again.  “Ayight.”

Cynthia’s nostrils flared slightly, looked at the man; brown, soiled shirt, face lined and grizzled with specks of grey beard. She darted away from the counter and into the flowing crowd.

Cosmo glanced up for a second when he’d heard his name and then went back to gnawing at the cold hamburger on the floor.  He considered Camus: ‘With rebellion, awareness is born.’  He paused, looking up at his best friend and then back down to lick the grease off the cement floor.

Hope this finds you seeking the light,

David

Copyright © 2019 David Smith