“Sir, can I ask you a question?” Bob whispered. “We would be sitting here for the rest of our lives, so we might as well get to know each other well. I feel you, man.”
Strauss, raised his hand to stop Bob from interrupting. “Then the other one stood up and went to Twiggee, walked around her, then pointed right at the spot where you are now.”
“I see a trunk cut and some widowmakers or dead branches which were snapped off not so long ago. What happened to the tree?” “Some story, that was. A long story that you don’t want Trisha to be reminded of.” “We have a lifetime ahead of us sir. You can start from the beginning.” “Three years ago, one summer morning, when the joggers were gone, and people start passing by, with coffee in one hand, and newspaper on the other, I still clearly remember those two people, with hardhats, stopped right in front of Trisha. They sat down and spread a huge sheet of paper, and started pointing all over the park.”
Bob, sat there quietly as Strauss continued his narrative, almost whispering to avoid Trisha from hearing it. “Then one stood up and went to Trish, then looked around her, pointed at the dead branches all around the other trees, then pointed at me, and then sat back with the other one.”
As he was walking back toward the other man, the guy took his radio and said something on it. I didn’t have to know what they were talking about because a few minutes later more people came, with ropes, chainsaws, and more hardhats.” This time, Strauss was short of breath, as if he was sobbing.