People Watching: Part Deuce

We left the story right at the moment that I knew for sure that the Red-Head was a cold-blooded killer. This was now more than just a people-watching game. It became my civic duty to listen to their conversation. I have now leaned off to the side towards them so far that my back was screaming in protest.

Red-Head cried into the shoulder of Blonde. The words were muffled. But I managed to understand enough. "...miserable...sound of death...the pain...can't get it out of my..." Suddenly, Red-Head jumps up screaming, "blood...oh my God! Blood on my shoe! We have to go!"

The sudden outburst, caused me to lose my balance and hit my elbow on the bench. I cried out but caught the sound at just a squeak; receiving just a cursory glance from Blonde as Redhead jumped around shaking one foot as if the blood would magically fly off. My heart pounded violently, as I regained balance and stood up, looking off in the distance nonchalantly. The girl's frantic sprint stirred the ducks into flight and as I turned, coming face to face with a crazed duck, I found myself doing a dance of my own. Not a pretty sight with my arms flailing about, my head tucked into my chest and my feet sliding around on wet grass while the duck squawked it's anger, missing me by mere inches. In the distance, I could hear children laughing and calling encouraging words.

The ducks settled on the pond and I recovered some of my dignity with a wave at the kids. Turning toward the cars, Blonde and Redhead were oblivious. Determined to fulfill my civic duty, I took off towards my car. My progress was pretty quick for a woman of my age and I was feeling pretty proud when a sprinkler popped up, spewing water directly at me. The force of the cold water, coupled with the complete shock to my system, sent me back a few steps. I turned away from the spray, slapping at the water. At that moment, things do seem to go in slow motion in your memory, I tripped over a rock and fell face-forward to the sound of hysterical children's laughter. Eating the grass as I yelped in shame; the girls turned to witness my embarrassment as I'm sure everyone in the park did. I spit out a few wet, green blades and laughed hysterically as I tried to get off the ground. The grass was too wet so it took a few attempts to get my boots to stop sliding. Jeeze, I love those cowboy boots, but there is no traction what-so-ever. Each time I stepped up balancing on one knee, the boot would slide out. And make matters even worse, the stupid sprinkler had made it's circle and hit me again.

I looked to the parking lot just in time to see the girls reach their car. I'm sure the bloody shoe was paramount in their minds so luckily, my antics hadn't gotten any attention. Desperate to follow them, I threw off my soggy boots, jumped up with the vigor of a teenager and sauntered off like a speed-walker. Forgetting that the wet grass was an evil enemy, I performed an interesting ballet before slamming, none so gracefully, into the door of my car. This definitely would be recorded as the most dangerous people-watching event of the year.

To be continued, tomorrow!