The Watcher

I saw a man today out near the high school. It's the second time I've seen him this week since starting my new job. He's an elderly man, and he sits between the rock wall and the road in a small ditch that time and weather have carved out of the ground. I don't know what brings him there, but I've seen him there twice, just staring out at the world. He reminded me of someone; a man whom I have never met, but I have seen many times, and he had watched me many times.

The road from Walmart to the playground isn't that long, but it's a pretty far walk. Every day the tall man with the long, messy beard and tattered clothing walked back and forth from the Walmart to the playground. When he would reach his destination, he would sit on the railing on the highway and stare at the cars rolling by. The place I had spotted him the most though was on the corner at the playground, sitting on the small wall with his back to the fence just observing the cars rolling by.

I had always found it disturbing that he would just stare into your car window as you rolled past, or worse, when you were stopped. When the light was red, I would pray for it to quickly turn so the old man would not be able to watch me any longer. He became a topic of conversation.
"Hey, why is that man sitting there all the time?"
"That man was out again today staring at me as I drove past."
"My buddy saw that guy watching him eating in his car at the red light and he floored it when the light changed."
"That guy is nuts! He just walks back and forth all day, sun up to sun down."

As I looked at the man out near the school today, I thought of this man; the watcher. I had always spent so long being creeped out by him. But now that he's not walking along the road and sitting staring at those going past, I am wondering what happened to him. Why did he walk back and forth all day? Why did he stare into cars? I know he knows my face. I had traveled the same road he did almost every day. Perhaps, if he comes out again, I will pull into the parking lot and walk over to him. I can ask him why he does what he does.

Perhaps he just had nothing better to do with his summer days. Maybe he was a man more in touch with the world than others. People go about their daily lives with little interaction. They don't pay attention to anybody that doesn't require their attention. When the people drove by him, did he sit back and think how they were on a road going nowhere fast? Was he looking for something within those people? Did he have so little and admired their "so much" that they took for granted?

I've taken notice to two watchers. Perhaps I can become one of them.