Hello Friend pt. 2

"Hey," says the man as he reaches his free hand towards my shoulder to offer me some comfort.  I open one of my eyes in time to see that he has merely put on the safety.

I let out a sigh of relief.

"You're alright.  From here on in you're going to be fine," he says with a kind smile that offers a glimpse into the blanket of society.

"Thank you," I manage to stutter as he points down the road and gives me directions to the hospital.

"There's about 800 of us," he says and then taps the hood of the car to tell me to continue.

I drive down the road until I can no longer see him in the distance.  I know that after one or two more bends there will be another checkpoint at a bridge before I can enter town.  My heart begins to race with a whirlwind of possibilities as I brace for the first signs of hope.

I leave my window rolled down and allow the sun to graze my cheek.  It is the first time that we've interacted with each other since the tragedy; and I so desperately want a reconciliation.

I look to the sun, who peeks from behind the haze clouds, welcoming me back into her warm embrace.  A moment later she points me towards the bridge entrance illuminating my safe passage as best she can.

I roll to a stop when I see him, the man guarding the bridge.  "Welcome friend," he says with a warm smile and holds out a tin can.  I look inside to see a slew of mismatched coins, and then look up to him with a confused look on my face.  He laughs before telling me that he likes to collect a toll so he can see how many people have passed through the gate.

"Ah," I say and fumble around for a loose coin. 

When I find one, I turn to him and apologize.  "It's all I could find," I say not wanting to offend him as I drop the penny into the can.

"Pennies are my favourite," he says and waives me along.

A moment later I wheel up towards the front of the hospital.  There's an eerie silence as I sit outside and collect my thoughts.  I look around to try and see where all the people are -- but there are none.  My stomach begins to tell me to turn around; but I ignore it.  Everything in me yearns for a reminder of how it used to be; even if this town is just a pale comparison.

When I finish negotiating the fear out of my mind, I reach towards the door handle to step outside -- despite the fact that the hairs on the back of my neck are telling me otherwise.