The timing could not have been worse for the sun to set. Granted, the setting of the sun is a very natural and regular occurrence. But it still caught Chris off guard. More than that, it pretty much offended him. He had a tendency to take everyday happenings a little personal. It was silly to get worked up about, and Chris knew this. There was no real logic to being angry at the turning of the earth. But the fact remained that it was too dark to walk through the cemetery. More precisely it was too dark to read the head stones. That was the part that made the whole deal worthwhile. The names and dates of the yard's occupants were intriguing. Chris's excitement flared up when he read them. A certain date, say, 1860, and a name, say, Edmund Smith, would conjure up images is Chris's mind of that person. Through a hazy grasp of history, Chris would picture their clothing and hairstyle. Any before 1900, had beards, black suits, and a hat. There was some variation depending on the name, but that pretty much fit most of them.
A half hour earlier when Chris had left his house, dusk was just setting in. The orange glow that fell over the roof of the house across the street from his had given him false hope. But the one-mile walk to the cemetery had been a race against the sun. Each time his foot went over another crack he was one step closer to beating it. His pace was too leisurely though. "Why shouldn't it have been?” he thought, "Otherwise I wouldn't have enjoyed myself." Chris really liked walking by himself. When he walked with other people he either irritated them with his lackadaisical pace, or they ended up having a dispute about the most direct path. Often when he walked with a friend he would unconsciously fall a step or two behind. This distance would grow steadily until they noticed and asked why the hell he was walking behind them. His answer never sufficed.
Going no farther than the cemetery gates, Chris conceded, and turned to retrace his steps home. Even though it was nice to walk at his own pace, Chris thought fondly of someone walking beside him. “Who would it be?,” he wondered. A number of faces of friends and family flashed through his mind, and then he thought of Edmund Smith. This was a name that Chris thought he had seen on a tombstone in the past, but he wasn't sure. Regardless, the man's image popped into his imagination, walking in stride beside Chris. He was taller than Chris, especially with his derby hat on. Chris really liked the suit he could picture him wearing. He could see the lapels of the coat catching the wind as they walked. Edmund's boots stuck out though. The black leather was worn out and stressed. Chris could tell that he regularly tied them too tight. It was fun to picture the two of them walking together down the street. The fact that Chris was strolling through an older neighborhood made it even easier to see. The historic houses that lined the neighborhood fit the picture perfectly. Edmund lived in a Queen Anne. Chris was sure of it. The wide-open porch wrapped around the front and side of the house, where a swing hung. It would be the perfect place to sit on a cool evening and watch that same orange glow fall on the surrounding rooftops. The streets would have been much quieter in Edmund's day though, without all the cars flying by. It pleased Chris that Edmund would not think it strange at all to be traveling by foot.
Walking at a steady pace now, Edmund and Chris's legs were perfectly in sync. Chris thought of different questions he would ask Edmund. As soon as the questions entered his mind, the answers were there. His wife's name was Marie and they had three children. Chris took a moment to stop walking and look at the emerging stars. As he stood still the conversation paused. A moment later Chris's legs started moving again. They rustled against each other with each step. The air had cooled a bit since the sun had gone down, and Chris wished he had brought a sweatshirt to wear. Picturing Edmund in his suit made Chris feel a little underdressed. He wished he had a suit to match. The hat wasn't necessary, since it seemed too much. Chris's suit would be navy blue. He could imagine the collar of the dress shirt snug around his neck, the heavy coat keeping him warm. Chris felt quite dapper.
As he continued the walk back home, the conversation between the two picked up again. Edmund asked him about college. "You are very lucky to have the opportunity", Chris heard the older man telling him. Hearing these words, Chris gained a clearer view of Edmund Smith's face, which was slightly wrinkled around his forehead and under his eyes. He looked as though he had spent a lifetime worrying. Chris felt bad for him, but could tell that Edmund was glad to be on a night time walk. Still looking close, Chris noticed that Edmund's build was significantly thicker than his own. Chris wondered when his lean frame would start to accumulate the mass that his companion's had. It occurred to Chris that the shape of Edmund's shoulders and his stride were very similar to that of his dad's. But his dad only wore a suit on special occasions, weddings, funerals, and things. Chris realized that he himself had only worn a suit three or four times in his life, under similar circumstances. But it seemed proper to be wearing a suit with Edmund. It gave their nighttime stroll a certain dignity.
Soon Chris rounded the corner that put his house only a block away. Their pace slowed a little. Edmund commented how much he liked walking through the neighborhood. Somehow this sounded very trivial and it made Chris wish he had something really important to share with Edmund. Not like a message from the future or anything, but something that would be nice to part on. But eventually Chris decided to just let silence be. When he reached his house and stood on his porch, Chris imagined their goodbyes. "Good night, nice walking with you". It was short and neighborly. But Chris really had enjoyed walking with Edmund, and wearing the navy suit. As Chris unlocked his door he thought of Edmund making the walk back to the cemetery.
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