Berzerkers

Henry & Ola 2.6mi


I'm trying to get in a three mile run between work and the arrival of hurricane Dennis. Trying to hold the pace back, so I walk most of the route. Down to the street and west to the stop sign. Turn to the north and a block ahead a neighbor has landscaped his side yard on the outside of his privacy fence, a gift to the rest of us. These summer rains have nourished it into a dense thicket of flowers and vines. It seems like it may just cross the street and run through the neighborhood like a wildfire. Fine by me.
At the next block I usually turn left, but today I continue north one more block before cutting west towards the river. I head down the short incline past the two brothers who seem to be perpetually walking this same one block stretch of sloping, pot-holed pavement. They both walk with the same angry, stomping, arm flailing gait to the top of the small rise only to turn around and stomp back down to the bottom. They have been doing this for years now. They were both large fat men when they started. Now they are tall robust berzerkers.
I like to imagine that the damage to this stretch of road was all caused by their incessant pounding, slowly etching their route into these bricks. I wonder what their neighbors think. It makes for one hell of a neighborhood watch.
Past the berzerker brothers I turn left and down the narrow alley that leads to the river park. Down to the river and I'm back on my old circuit. Watch for dogshit here. Up a little rise and back onto the pavement. Past the old marina and its fleet of decaying and sunken houseboats. There are a few new additions to the river bottom after last years string of four hurricanes. Follow the river road to its end and turn left towards the ball fields. On summer nights you can hear the calls from the dugouts blocks away on my front porch.
I leave my old route again to go one block south and walk past the house of Steven Lorenzo who is believed to have raped and killed several young men that he picked up in gay bars around town. I'm amazed at how well kept the house is, I guess I figured it would look a little more like mine.
A light rain is starting to fall and I cut into an alley for a straight shot north to my house. The sky is starting to look threatening so I pick up the pace. It crosses my mind that running down the alley in a pouring rain is not entirley normal behavior, but as the lightning begins to strike I'm not concerned with appearances for long.