The Statue Man

::Updated 5/31/06::

This is the first story that I've finished for my Senior Project. It's an idea I've had for a really long time but that I've never gotten around to writing down. I kinda liked how it came out... I don't really think I'm that great a writer, I've gotta say. I do think the ending came out pretty good though. Please let me know what you think.

This may be updated later if I decide to proofread it again.

Written in May, 2006.
Two and a half pages, single-spaced, in Word.
Deviantart Mirror.

The Statue Man

For as long as I could remember, the man had stood there. He stood completely still, at the center of the town square, with a look of awe on his face. He always wore the same brown pants, the same white shirt, and the same striped tie. He never got older, never got dirty or gathered dust, and never looked tired. I swear I never saw the square without him standing there, and he never once moved.

In a way, I always felt connected to him, the Statue Man.

I lived my whole life in the town. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, and where some man arbitrarily standing somewhere really sticks out. In fact, the town spanned only a matter of a few square miles, and as a kid I would always walk from my house, through the square, to school.

In grade school I made quite a few friends, but I always valued learning new things over social activities, which prevented me from really being popular. After school I’d often hang out with my friends; most days we’d go to the park and play, though sometimes, especially as we got older, we’d ride our bikes around town and pull little jokes and pranks on people. On occasion, when it was hot, we’d go to the square, get ice cream, sit on the curb and throw pebbles at the Statue Man while we ate. Someone would always make a joke about how the Statue Man looked a little like me, and I’d throw my pebbles extra hard. But no matter what, he never moved or even flinched; the rocks simply bounced off him.

We tried talking to him, too. Sometimes we’d innocently try to start a conversation, but more often we’d think of crude things to yell at him to see how he’d react. It became a game – who could come up with the worst thing to say – but he never once acknowledged us. Most adults didn’t bother to talk to him; he’d never responded before and wasn’t going to any time soon. Occasionally someone new would move into town, and everyone would have a good laugh when he would try to introduce himself to the Statue Man.

By the time high school came around, my friends were getting into more and more extreme pranks and illicit activities. I worried too much when I was with them, so I began to hang out with them less and less. Although now I had fewer friends than ever before, I was provided with more time to study mathematics and science. I was quickly becoming obsessed; I wanted to learn everything there was to know about time, space and the universe.

Late in my high school career, I met my first girlfriend. She wasn’t interested in physics – she loved history instead – but, nonetheless, we got along well. We’d spend a lot of time wandering around the town, and we’d always see the Statue Man in the square. Sometimes I’d throw some pebbles for old time’s sake, but she’d always get mad and hit me.

Senior year left me with little free time and fun, but in the end I was accepted to one of the best science and technology schools around. I packed my bags and said goodbye to the little town where I’d lived my whole life. On one of the last days that I saw my friends, I had the nerve to, on a dare, give a goodbye hug to the Statue Man. He didn’t move.

In college, I got my first exposure to psychology and the study of the human brain. I continued my studies in physics and math, and stayed in school an extra year to triple major. A professor, in my fifth year, introduced me to the effect of human perception on space and time – a connection I’d been searching for the past four years. I had the opportunity to research the topic with him, and our results suggested that humans could potentially perceive time and space differently than we do now, with only minor changes to our mental wiring. It looked as though our brains could be changed so that we could see the world in four dimensions, and possibly control and warp space and time. However, our evidence was rather sparse. The research merely suggested the possibility; it was far off from proving that it could really happen.

I often look back on those five years as the best time in my life, and in many ways my life went downhill after graduation. I couldn’t afford to continue onto graduate school and get my doctorate in science, so I moved back to my home town and lived with my parents while I tried to find a suitable job and a place to live. As much as I would have loved to get a research position somewhere, I couldn’t without a doctorate, so I was forced into taking a job in management at a small business in town. I rented an apartment and began the long drudge through the rest of my life.

I woke up in my late twenties having not moved an inch. I still lived in the small town – it seemed tiny now – and I still had the same management position. I saw all the people I’d known since grade school, and some still made fun of me for looking like the Statue Man. Yes, he was still there; he still wore the same brown pants, white shirt and striped tie, and the same look of awe. It was a little frustrating, as he did look like me, and he had a look of optimism while I was growing more and more pessimistic.

Not everything was bad, though. I’d managed to buy a small house and I had a growing savings account. I also picked up where I’d left off with my high school girlfriend, and we were now living together. I’d often tell her about my plans for the future, how I’d save up enough to make it to graduate school, and then get a position teaching and doing research somewhere far off and exotic for us small town folk. I’d take her with me and we’d live a happy and well off life together.

I guess that always was just a fantasy…

One day I woke up groggy from a poor night’s sleep. It was raining out; I never did like the rain much. I put on my suit, had a short breakfast, and headed off for work. My boss greeted me at the door and invited me into his office. I sat down excitedly; maybe I was finally going to get the raise I’d been waiting for. My optimism was quickly struck down; I was being laid off. The economy was getting worse, he explained, and they just couldn’t afford to keep me. It had nothing to do with my recent performance, he assured me. And then he sent me out the door.

I stumbled through the rain and my vision began to blur. I somehow made it home, drenched, and walked in the door just as the rain began to taper off. I was greeted, unhappily, by my girlfriend; apparently she hadn’t slept well either. I told her the news, and for a while she simply returned my stare, stunned. Then she began shouting. Something about my incessant planning for the future, and how even that wasn’t going to work out now, and what the fuck was wrong with me anyways, and so on. I didn’t really hear her. She slammed the door on her way out.

I didn’t know what to do. I took of my sopping jacket, dropped it aimlessly on the floor and stumbled about the house in a daze. I’m not sure how long it took, but I eventually found my way outside, and began wandering, in a stupor, about town.

When I came to my senses, I was in the town square, crouched on the curb sobbing. Through the drying tears, I looked up at the Statue Man. He really did look like me. He even, I realized, was wearing the same brown pants, white shirt and striped tie as me. But where I had a look of pain and anguish, he wore and expression of optimism and awe. As I dwelled on this train of thought, my sadness began to turn sour. Years of anger and frustration built up in my chest, and my pulse began to race. Fuck him! Fuck this Statue Man! How dare he be my twin and yet be so happy at the moment of my deepest despair. I rose to my feet and started toward him, and it didn’t take long for my legs to lose control and break into a run. I raised my fist, ready to strike. And just as I reached him…

I slipped.

It must’ve been a puddle, left over from the rain. My heart sank even before I hit the floor. My head landed first, with a deafening thud, and I was out cold.

I came to, shortly after, in a daze.

I pulled myself to my feet. I couldn’t really see straight.

It all happened in an instant. First, I noticed the Statue Man was gone. I had never seen the square without him.

But, then again, I’d never seen the square as it was now.

I looked, in awe, as I saw the square at all times. I saw myself as a child, throwing pebbles, though I couldn’t feel them hit me. I saw my teenage self, very happy and content with my girlfriend. And I saw myself only a few moments ago, depressed and downtrodden, crying at the edge of the street.

I saw the square being built, right underneath my feet, and I saw when it finally disappeared from the ravages of time.

I saw the blackness of the beginning of time. I saw the emptiness of its end.

I saw my future.

I saw how I picked myself up after this catastrophic day, how I got a new job and a new girlfriend and eventual wife. I saw how I slowly became successful. And I saw when I suddenly stopped showing up in the square; I had moved on to a new and hopefully better home and life.

I also saw myself come back to visit the town, on occasion. Sometimes I’d throw pebbles, for old time’s sake.

It was only an instant, but it lasted forever.

I took a step forward, back into the present, and walked away.