Herb and Earl

“Anything new today Herb?”

The two old men stood on the corner of First Street and Main in their usual rendezvous spot. A lone tree loomed above them to shade from the robust summer sun.

“Lots of cars. Lots of bad drivers. Nothing new,” Herb muttered a reply. He casually chewed on a piece of straw while he watched the traffic go by. “I remember when this was a simple intersection. One lane each way. You remember that Earl?”

His counterpart snorted. The two had met every day under the same tree for the last ten years. From the serene setting, they witnessed numerous changes to the town they lived in. “I remember. You remember when across the way there was only that one little store, and they would get feed from it? Now it’s some big fancy place. Selling furniture and art. The place next to it sells clothes.”

“Yes. Ridiculous clothes. No one should pay that much money to look that bad.”

“They added a few restaurants. Indian restaurant? Remember when the folks here didn’t even know where India was?”

Herb chortled. “Always liked the respect India showed their cattle.”

The two calmly chewed their straw in silence to watch the crowd of cars that flew by. Squealing tires and brakes ended in a stomach-churning thud which jolted both of their heads to attention. “That’s not good,” Earl observed. He walked forward toward the intersection to get a better view. “Everyone alright in there?” No one responded to his inquiry.

Another car stopped to render aid as the two old men watched in fascinated silence. There was nothing either of them could do to help those involved. Within minutes multiple firetrucks, ambulances, and police cars arrived on the scene. The entire intersection was closed to the severity of the accident, and the traffic pileup accumulated rapidly.

“That’s a shame. I hope everyone is going to be okay.” The two vacated their observation deck in order to stroll along the length of one of the streets. As they walked, they gazed at each of the cars. “I think there’s more people sitting in this stalled traffic than what used to live in this town when we first started meeting.”

“I think you’re right.”

They paused to look at new construction blocking their path. Orange and yellow tape covered a temporary barricade. “What are they going to build here now?”

“Probably more stores. More chain restaurants. People around here can’t go a few blocks to the grocery store, so they build the exact same stores every few blocks. You ever notice that? The same stores that are over here are what’s over on the other side of the property. It all looks the same.”

“You know what?” Herb countered to his partner. “You’re absolutely right. And these city folk can’t go that far? Heck we walk that distance every day.”

“They’re not in their prime like we are.” They walked on in silence, despite the detour the new barricades created. “I don’t see how this town can grow anymore,” Earl observed. “It used to be nice and quiet. Green fields. Nice trees. Fresh air. Now it’s concrete everywhere we look. The air chokes me. The traffic noise is constant.”

“Not really a place meant for us, is it?”

“I think we’re a dying breed. They like their boring houses and repeat stores and cars. We’re just two ignored relics of a past time.”

After more hours of walking and reflection, they reached their next stop at the corner of another intersection. Silently they settled into a comfortable position and returned to observing traffic.

“Mom, what do you think they talk about all day? Like are they bored?” A young girl gazed out of her car window at two longhorn bulls that walked to the fence at the corner of the intersection they sat at.

Her mom honked her horn at the cars in front of her. “Come on, why are we just sitting still?” she yelled.

“I would be bored, sitting there and watching cars all day.”

“What?” her mom impatiently asked.

“The bulls, mom. The ones in the field.”

“What bulls?” The woman turned to the last remaining ranch in the fast-growing town she lived in. She noticed the pair of bulls for the first time since passing the ranch in her daily commute. “Oh those? They’re just two old men. They have nothing better to do with their lives than watch us.” She honked her horn again. “Now come on!” she yelled at the unmoving cars in front of her. “Let’s move it!”

Her daughter sighed and stared at the two bulls. “Sitting in the grass would be better than sitting in this car,” she lamented.