“Good morning” said the elderly woman.

“Uh..good morning.” Said the angst teen.

The teen, Ross, looked over at her between the black hair obscuring his eyes. The lady was smiling at him. Her eyes literally sparkling.

Ross looks away and eyes his formerly white PF flyers, now scribbled with upside down crosses, (admittedly in poor taste) a nazi symbol and various other insignia. He thumbs the bottle of aspirin in his coat pocket.

“What’s your name?” The lady says.

“Hey lady. I don’t want to talk I just want to sit here and THINK.” He snaps. This must surely make the lady leave him alone. But no, she speaks again “My names Evelyn. You look just like my grandson.”

Ross remains quiet. Evelyn still staring at him he presumes. Ross thinks ‘I’m gonna punch this lady if she doesn’t stop fucking talking to me.’

“Is your name Justin?”

He looks at her at this, snapping his glare in her direction. “No my names not JUSTIN.”

“You look like my grandson Justin.” She says again. This time she sits back and kind of scoots into the bench seemingly getting comfortable for a long wait. She now looks straight ahead and is watching two squirrels chase and twist their way up a tree.

Ross, not Justin, is looking at her with a disgusted and confused look on his face. He looks at what she is looking at and himself settles back into the bench. Now sitting up straight instead watching the squirrels dance instead of hunching over staring at his offensive shoes.

A few minutes go by. Ross thumbing the bottle of aspirin, the pills every so often making a rattling noise a full bottle of pills make. Evelyn seems to not hear what he has hidden in his pocket. What he has hidden in his mind.

“Nature is something.” She says.

Ross takes a sigh. “Yeah. I guess it is.” His mind clearing up from the red haze that filled it’s every chasm minutes earlier.

“My grandson Justin would’ve loved watching these squirrels go nuts.” She smiles (not noticing the pun she just made which her grandson also would’ve gotten a good laugh from) her scaly, wrinkled hands lying crossed on her lap. Ross takes notice that she is wearing all black, like him. Except she doesn’t look like a punk like me, he thinks.

“What happened to him?” Ross asks, his curiosity taking over. He forgets the bottle of pills in his pocket.

A tear rolls down her eye.

“The world just isn’t as beautiful without the people that make it beautiful. What’s a world without the ones you love?” She speaks, her voice quivering.

This hits Ross. He actually came to this bench to clear his mind before swallowing over 10,000 milligrams of aspirin.

“If Justin knew how much his grandmother loved him, maybe he wouldn’t ‘ve…” her voice trails off.

Ross thinks about his grandmother who looks very much like Evelyn. His “guardian” is what the school system calls her. How she would feel if he killed himself. Would she be sitting on this same bench crying to some stranger?

Ross stands up. He gives Evelyn a big hug (not even caring if any of his “punk” buddies see him). “I’m sorry” Ross says.

He feels her shaking. She’s taking Deep breaths and crying into the shoulder of his black hoodie with a Rams skull patch on the chest.

“Justin” she mutters between breaths.

Ross releases her and stands looking at her, he doesn’t bother brushing the hair out of his eyes because he now has tears to hide. He says to her “I have to go now.”

Evelyn looks up at him through teary eyes and says “Thank you young man. It’s people like you who make this world beautiful.”

Ross’s brain, heart and lungs choke up at this. He thinks about his grandmother. He turns and begins to jog toward his house. He stops suddenly when he notices the loud rattling of pills in his pocket. He turns on a dime and jogs back, reaches into his jeans pocket and tosses the bottle of pills and tosses them into the trash can seated beside Evelyn.

He looks at her and smiles. She smiles back. A remnant of a tear she forgot to wipe hanging just below her cheek.

Ross turns once again and jogs home.