Disparate Thoughts

By Paul

Solomon lives nearly alone on the 4th floor of a modest apartment complex in Cincinnati. Since graduating college a few years ago, all his friends have slowly filtered away from the city. Now, he’s the only one left in the entire state. Alex in St. Louis, Rohan in San Diego, Sara in Albuquerque, Ari in Detroit. Neera is entirely across the ocean in Amsterdam. Now Solomon only has work friends, whom he only sees at work, and vague acquaintances from other units on his floor.

He is not completely alone, however. He has Maisie, his five-year-old border collie and basset hound mix. She looks a lot like your standard border collie, but with slightly longer ears. Her behavior, however, is much more like your standard basset hound: loud for a distant siren and lethargic for a distant walk.

Maisie and Solomon are each other’s best friends. Solomon looks forward to coming home from work every day to see Maisie, and Maisie takes her day-long nap in preparation for the inevitable playing and walking that will happen when Solomon returns from the great beyond.

The pair are inseparable. When Solomon isn’t at work, he’s with Maisie. He spoils her with fresh food and enviable treats. They are frequent patrons of the park down the road and a smattering of hiking trails around the city. Maisie is a pretty active dog while the two are out and about, but she loves to curl up and sleep more than almost anything. She sleeps all night at Solomon’s feet, only lifting her head for some scratches as he leaves for work every morning.

On a particularly bad Tuesday in the middle of April, Solomon starts considering the mood he’s been in over the past couple of weeks. Then and there, he decides to do something fun on the weekend. With Maisie on his lap and an idea on his mind, Solomon reserves a camping space at a state park he used to frequent. His spirits high with anticipation, he starts packing immediately, despite the trip still being three days off. He crawls into the back of his bedroom closet and makes his way into an old cardboard box, within which lay his old camping supplies. An old dusty tent he got as a birthday present on his 14th birthday from his dad, an upgraded sleeping bag he got in his freshman year of college, and a hand-me-down camping pad from his aunt that was who-knows-how-old.

Come Friday afternoon, Solomon hurries home from work to pick up Maisie. Together, the two make their way to the camp site, a two-and-a-half-hour drive from the apartment building. The car ride consisted of angst-ridden, nostalgic music for Solomon from his middle school years, and a long nap for Maisie in the back seat, curled up on a blanket. 

Finally at the campsite, Solomon sets up the tent and the hammock while Maisie investigates the site. It’s a large, quiet spot dotted with trees and butt up against a gentle creek. There isn’t another soul for miles, or at least it feels that way. 

As the sun creeps towards the trees, Solomon is hard at work on dinner for the pair at the campfire. Maisie sits next to him, patiently but intently watching him, ready for her meal. Solomon locks eyes with her and scratches under her chin, her favorite spot.

Solomon rescued Maisie from a nearby animal shelter just a couple years prior. He just moved into his current apartment building by himself, and he was seeking some companionship. From the moment he saw her in her kennel, looking defeated against the ground with her head pressed to the floor, he knew he found his partner. Inside the kennel, Maisie slightly lifted her head to look at Solomon for the first time, and he gave her chin a gentle scratch. From that moment, Maisie knew she found her partner too.

Suddenly, leaves loudly rustled across the campsite. The sound rapidly travelled from a small clearing into the underbrush. Solomon and Maisie both whipped their heads around just in time to see some branches moving in the bushes. Solomon’s heart races slightly, but he knows it’s probably just a raccoon or squirrel. Maisie seems completely unbothered by the noise. Quiet blankets the campsite once again as they enjoy their dinner.

Before long, the two retreat into the tent for the night. 

The next morning, Solomon is reading a book in his hammock, while Maisie basks in the sun nearby, drying off from an early morning adventure in the creek. Other than a distant bird chirping, the silence is deafening.

A gentle rustle from across the campsite invades the quiet. Solomon peaks over the top of his book just in time to see a dark, rusted puff of fur slip into a small cutaway masked with leaves and branches. He glances at Maisie to confirm she hasn’t moved. She didn’t even bother opening her eyes. Solomon saw enough to confirm it isn’t a bear, so he promptly returns to his book.

A while later, Solomon is gathering wood for a fire that evening with Maisie closely trotting behind him. She intently investigates every branch and bush as they meander through the woods. As they round a particularly wide tree trunk, Solomon finally spots it. In a small clearing filled with fallen pine needles is a small fox with a long, bushy tail. Curled up and fast asleep, Solomon is struck by how well it blends into the ground beneath it. The fox doesn’t seem to notice Solomon and Maisie, so not wanting to disturb his temporary neighbor, Solomon quietly turns around to leave the fox to its dream. Despite Maisie’s curiosity, she happily turns and follows her friend.

As the evening draws on, Solomon is once again roasting dinner on the campfire while Maisie is sleeping in a soft grass patch across the campsite.  It’s their last night out here. In the morning, they’ll need to pack up and leave. Solomon chooses to simply enjoy the moment instead of thinking about tomorrow. He sits there, watching the sausages cook over the fire.

Almost like routine, Solomon hears another rustle in the brush near the edge of the campsite. He glances over with the corner of his eyes, but this time he actually sees something. The same fox he found earlier is standing just inside the clearing of the campsite, watching him. The black eyes pierce through his head, almost like they’re trying to look into his mind. Solomon can’t help but stare back.

Then out of nowhere, the fox takes off. It bolts across the campsite, almost becoming a blur. Solomon watches in awe at the fox’s sheer speed. Then, panic sets in. It’s heading straight for Maisie! She isn’t paying attention, still fast asleep in her patch of grass. Solomon starts to push to his feet to shout, but it’s too late. It’s getting closer and closer until…

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.