Passing Moments

She passed by the car on her jog again this evening. Second day, in a row. It wouldn’t be a thing that stuck except there, usually, weren’t any cars in the park parking lot in the evening.

A smaller town, the park closed at 5pm. She loved that the park was hers for her hour run. She had moved, almost exactly a year ago, to be out of the constant drone of city life. Maybe she was getting older or maybe it never really suited her but small town life was comfortable.

In that year of taking her run in the park, there had been no cars after 5pm. Parents were feeding their kids dinner and there weren’t many teens in the town. The ones she’d seen all hung out at the pizza parlor or in the movie theater parking lot, on the edge of town. She started dinner, planned for an early bedtime and didn’t give the car another thought.

There it was, again. Third time. The odd thing, beyond parking after hours was, each time, there was someone sitting in the driver’s seat, as still as can be. The odder thing was that he sat in a brown suit and brown fedora, staring straight ahead, with the windows up. It was summer.

The even odder thing was that he sat perfectly still. Not that she got to see him for very long. He was in her line of sight for a good ten minutes on her jogs but she never saw him move, in that time.

Fourth day and there it was. This time, a woman was in the driver’s seat. The woman looked at her and smiled. When she smiled back, the woman said, “Such a beautiful evening. My father loved this park. He was responsible for it being built. He always felt the kids in this town needed a place to be but with it closing so early, it doesn’t seem as if they are here, much.”

She had slowed to a walk as the woman spoke. She asked, “Did your father like a brown fedora?” The woman was surprised and stumbled over her words a little. “ Every Sunday, he wore his brown suit and fedora. Looked very dapper. We’d usually come by here for an hour or two after church, then go home for Sunday supper.”

She smiled at the woman and at the thought of having sort of seen her father, wished her a good evening and continued on her jog.