Main Street, Cupertino

Have you ever chased after something you just couldn’t reach, like a dog chasing its own tail? Endless circles it’d go, round and round, until it eventually tired itself out. No matter how hard you tried, you were stuck at the feet of your owner, tied up.

Without a doubt, one could continue living their life and telling that same story, but what if I told you that one day, the door to your dreams would open, and the sun would shine blindingly bright? The birds would sing a lullaby. The flowers would dance a waltz. Walking through those golden doors would make for such a grand escape.

I was that dog. My story could have been equally beautiful, but as I stepped into the doorframe in exit, a hand met my shoulder.

As I uneasily turned my head in shock, my stomach running in circles, a blurred head began to form in my view. Instead of tightening and pulling me back, the previously firm grip loosened. It was my mom.

After six years, she let me go.

My mother and sister had just returned home Friday afternoon after heading off to the mountains for a trip. A week had passed since their departure.

I lived at home with my dad. I would go to work in the early mornings at Great America. A solid eight hours in my day would just fly by. My dad, being the busy man he was, ran a similar schedule at work. Except, he probably got a better lunch schedule. My schedule was set in stone, with a set time of thirty minutes. No more, no less.

My dad and I were on our way to play a couple of rounds of bowling at the nearby Bowlmor Lanes when they returned. We passed them by on our way out, but there wasn’t really anything in mind to talk about. Life just went on as usual.

The wifi at the location they had stayed at was probably pretty poor. I mean, I wouldn’t expect a wooden cabin to provide a better signal than what I had down here in the valley.

I had never received a text reply back from my mom after asking her about my plans for Saturday. I had planned to hang out with a friend as a way to end the summer together. However, I could only await a response. Maybe she had called me once that week, but that was all.

Somehow, I forgot to give that reminder.

When the Saturday morning sun shone through the early morning sky, all troubles seemed to resolve. As my mom started to make plans to go to Great America that Saturday, she went back through my past messages.

Maybe she sensed that we were not in the same boat, but instead two separate boats heading to separate shores.

However, I managed, and there I was, off on my way to Main Street, Cupertino.

Just like photographs, journals, and diaries can grasp a moment so beautifully, this would be a day I would come to never forget. The end of summer and the start of school were just a few weeks away, and there I was, on a cold, hard rock, staring off into the distance, past a field of grass.

There I sat, and there I waited for a friend.

The air swirled around me, filling my sleeves with cold air. It made me cold, awfully cold. The sun, towering high in the sky, with few clouds to be seen, provided minimal warmth.

The sun rays that struck through the shading of the trees, however, pierced my skin like flaming arrows. There was no balance to be found.

Watching the life around me progress as I waited was calming. Hearing the wind blow past me, the barking of the dogs, and the laughter of children who didn’t have the worries of school, painted such a beautiful landscape. What a diversion it was.

Those were the places where my attention was until a pearly white Tesla pulled up beside the curb. Unlike my skin, the glare from the car was surprisingly minimal.

There were so many things I could have done at that moment due to the pure excitement that filled me, but instead, I stayed and sat.

With the rough grip of the paper bag against my fingertips and a light crossbody bag weighing down on my shoulders, I was truly there. As the white car pulled away, I watched as a girl exited the car and began to walk up the paved path.

Was this even real?

There are a certain few people in this world that would decide to crack a joke at the most unnecessary moments. She was one of them. It was as if our eyes had met across the field of grass. Everyone and everything in between just seemed to disappear. The trees fell, the dogs ran off, their parents after them, the children went to sleep, and all that was left was the grass patch separating us.

I could hear melodious songs playing in my ears. I could see petals of white-pink flowers falling from the trees.

Suddenly, I heard a buzz. It came from my phone.

"I’m here where are you?" it read. A combination of two sentences in one.

"GRASS PATCH!" I responded. As if I wasn’t already there.