I made a number of acquaintances during my walk every morning in the walking trail where there is a parade of health maintaining crazies. The walkers are generally of uniform skin color with very few non-whites. Some passersby are interested in striking conversations lasting from thirty seconds to several minutes. Occasionally I come across one or two loquacious souls who are difficult to disconnect. Low and middle-aged people usually engage themselves in running, jogging and fast walking for high quality exercise. Many are more concerned for the health of their dogs and stroll to give them company. There is another variety of walkers who are young mothers. They bring their youngsters on strollers for fresh air. There is still another group of young mothers who seem to have formed a Women’s Committee. Routinely at a fixed time this group of about 15 to 20 gather in the morning in an adjacent park. While children are at play mothers spend their time with fun-filled gossip. Some others throw their hands and legs towards the sky for physical exercise. Their loud conversation creates a loud and entertaining environment.

A young mother and her boy are different and separate from others. The little boy is about 2 and is a little too hyper to such extent it is almost impossible to control him. So she put him on a leash attached to his waist. He becomes more hyper if he sees other children playing. He wants every child to play with him.

On their first day on the trail, the mother and the boy were passing by the women’s group. The boy ventured into the group hoping to play with the children of the group. The mothers of the group got concerned. They were not about to entertain a child of a different skin color.

The young mother sensed the situation but was not discouraged, rather ignored it. She continued her routine.

During my routine walk, like other walkers, the young mother also greets me with a “Good Morning”. I also do the same while looking at the little boy and say him ‘Hi’. That makes him excited. These indulgences led me to get acquainted with the mother and know more about them.

– You seemed to have a non-American accent. Where are you from?

– I am from Monrovia, capital of Liberia, Africa. My husband found a job in the Bay Area. We moved only few weeks ago. Do you know where Monrovia is?

That gave me an opportunity to continue conversation. I smiled and said, “I have been to Monrovia and stayed there for several weeks. I was on a business trip. She was amused at the commonality.

-How did you like it?

– It is nice and quiet. I did not know that the city gets the highest rainfall of all the capital cities of the world, almost 200 inches a year”.

She smiled. It seems its rains all the time, she said.

It seemed she liked to continue to talk.

“Our home was in Monrovia. But during the civil war we migrated to Ghana. My parents are still there.

Liberia’s situation is much better now.”

I changed the topic and asked her, “What is your name if you don’t mind?”

“My name is Rebecca; my mother calls me Becky.”

“What is the name of of your boy and how old is he?

We call him Christofer. He will be 2 in 3 months.

No sooner than he heard his name, he wanted to break his leash and jump on me.

The mother said, “He likes you, may be because you look like his grandfather”.

Could not understand where the similarity is – appearance or skin color! Did not continue the conversation any further.

We see each other on the trail quite often and exchange morning greetings. In the mean time, Christofer gathered many friends: stuffed animal, toy train, etc. He keeps himself busy with them. He grew a little bigger and few months older.

Time passes and along with that comes a change. They don’t come to the trail as often, may be twice or thrice a week. In a few months even fewer.

Once I asked Becky, “I don’t see you daily.”

Christofer has not been feeling well. I take him to doctor sometime; sometimes he does not feel like going out.

I have not seen them on the trail for quite a while. Other regulars also have not seen them.

After a few weeks I saw them again. This time Christofer was on a stroller, seemed lack of energy, sitting quietly. Becky also walked away with a melancholy face without much talk.

Next day I saw them again. This time I asked,

How is Christofer?

He is ill, the doctor gives him a sleeping pill.

What did the doctor say? I asked.

Without saying a word, with her head down, she walked away with Christofer sleeping on the stroller. I was feeling uneasy, did not want to disturb them much.

After several weeks I saw them again. This time she was smiling, Christofer was busy with his toys.

“Doctor said Christofer had contracted a virus. After medication, he is much better. Doctors also said that it will take some time to fully recover. There is nothing to worry”.

My uneasiness eased. Their morning walk also came to normal.

*****

Several months passed. Autumn also passed. I changed my walking schedule also to avoid cold morning. I did not see Becky and Christopher as often. At one time Becky mentioned, “We will go back to Monrovia, capital of Liberia, for a vacation after Christofer recovers from his illness.”

Did not know if they left for Monrovia. But one day all of a sudden, I noticed them from a distance on the trail coming towards me with the stroller at a very slow pace with her head down. As we came very close to each other I noticed her melancholy face, hair in disarray. I did not want to disturb her. I did not even say ‘Hi’ to Christofer. She continued her walk.

I saw them again on the next day. It seemed she was dragging her tired body. I approached her to ask about Christofer. When I looked at the stroller, I could not understand the situation. Christofer was not on the stroller. I breathed a bad omen. I was afraid to ask her anything about him. All his lifeless toys were strewn all over the stroller. I gathered courage and asked about Christofer. Tears rolled down her cheeks. After a long pause she said, “Could not save Christofer.” With teary eyes, I was only able to say,

“I am so sorry.”

She hesitated for a while and then walked away with the empty stroller. I could not fathom the depth of her sorrow. With a heavy heart I continued to watch her steps until she disappeared at the bend of the road.

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