Day 359 - Signs Story

Signs Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

The baseball bat swung through the air. Al braced himself for the impact. It was a momentary muscle reaction that he didn’t expect to have. He had swung a baseball bat before, but it had always been at a ball. He hadn’t swung it out of anger or malice or venom. Here he was, swinging for the fences. The dining room table was set for six with expensive dinnerware, crystal glasses and wine flutes. He was going to smash the hell out of it. His moment of hesitation didn’t come from second-guessing this course of action, it came from the brief thought that swinging a bat like this and hitting into something like this was going to have a direct and reverse impact back against him. He didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know if the table would give or if perhaps his wrists and elbows would take the brunt of the force. Perhaps he was setting himself up for self-injury. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all. For one brief second, he reconsidered and thought about pulling back. But it was too late. The bat was swinging too fast and it was going to hit that table.

Al smashed the table. He smashed the dishes. He smashed the plates. He swung the bat over and over and kept beating that table with all his might. He pounded it and broke things and smashed them into bits. He smashed and he broke until he was exhausted and his muscles ached. He dropped the bat and let his arms hang down. He was breathing hard. He looked at the mess he created. It looked like chaos. A smile crossed his face. Al felt great.

The Smash Shop was a warehouse of products and possessions that someone could pay to destroy. They claimed it was good for stress. They claimed it would help people cleanse themselves of their more base desires. Al didn’t know about that. Al just knew that he wanted to destroy a family dinner. The proprietors didn’t ask a person why they wanted to destroy what they wanted to destroy. Al didn’t offer an explanation. He just asked if they could provide him with the opportunity. The manager-on-duty showed him a variety of tables and dishes and accessories. Al picked out what he liked with meticulous care. He was creating a very special occasion for himself and he treated it as such. When it turned out they were missing pieces of silverware, because really how was someone going to smash that with a bat, he brought in his own so he could try.

Al paid his money and had the experience that he wanted and walked out happy. He had destroyed a perfect looking celebratory dinner in smashing fashion. It was such a sweet release of ecstasy. The advertisements were correct – it was an excellent stress reliever.

Al walked outside. It was still light out, still mid-afternoon. He was reminded painfully that he had nowhere to go and nothing to do. He was alone. No one was expecting him and there was no one for him to call or to try to go see. Everyone had something to do or someplace to be. Not Al. He was all alone.

Al walked through the parking lot towards the street. He had walked there and he was going to walk home. He thought he might try to find a coffee shop or diner. He could sit and be around people and maybe talk to someone. He didn’t want to be alone. He thought it would be nice to be with someone, even if it wasn’t anyone he knew. He thought about the women he could call. None of them would be around, or at least that’s what he told himself. He wasn’t good at keeping up relationships. He didn’t expect any of them to be sitting by the phone with nothing to do waiting for his call.

As he walked down the street, a street sign caught his attention. It was blank. Not like someone had torn down a sign, or vandalized a sign or painted over it. It was just blank, like the correct image hadn’t been printed on it. It was diamond-shaped and yellow and should have indicated something like a pedestrian crossing or a winding road up ahead or some other sort of warning. But instead it was blank. There was nothing to it. And yet some worker had gone ahead and set it up. Maybe they hadn’t noticed. Or maybe they were lazy and didn’t care. Or maybe the sign had been put up as some other sort of warning. Al wasn’t sure what it meant. He looked at it and contemplated things. He was hoping to find some word of wisdom or a bit of advice. He became convinced the sign was trying to tell him something specifically. It was a warning for him. There was a message, a lesson, somewhere in that empty sign. He was supposed to realize something.  He just couldn’t figure out what.

Eventually Al continued walking along his way, down the open road, towards some greater unknown, his day not quite as bright as it had been before.