"Have you ever," the man sitting next to Aaron said as he stared into his newspaper, "considered disappearing?"
"Huh? Aaron replied. "Do you mean disappearing as in becoming invisible and being able to walk away without anyone seeing you? Well, this one time in high school I was on the quad at lunchtime talking to Rosemarie Garcia and two friends of mine came over to us, and Allen Tucana said that the spot where I spilled Fresca on my pants looked like I'd pee'd myself. Definitely wished I could've disappeared then. And there was another time, when I was working at Tree Care Specific, like, two weeks after I got the job and the boss..."
"No, no," the man sitting next to Aaron interjected, "Not disappear because you found yourself in an embarrassing situation, I mean disappear as in abandon your entire life as it stands now - leave your family and friends, your job, your home, your possessions, everything, including your identity, behind, and create a whole new life as a whole new person somewhere else, like, in an entirely different country."
"Uhm...no...I've never really been that embarrassed about anything...not even when I split the pants of my rental tuxedo on the dance floor at my older brother's wedding, or when I threw up on Tracy Kolterman's mom at that carnival in the parking lot of the mall after eating a ton of corn dogs..."
"Geezus, being so embarrassed that you wanted to just blink your eyes and disappear is not what I'm talking about here. "I'm talking about wanting to kill off your old self and re-inventing your entire existence top to bottom, somewhere far, far away from where you are and, you know, start over from scratch."
"I don't get it," Aaron said plainly, "You mean, without having a reason to? Just for fun run away and pretend I'm someone else?"
"Yes, that's what I mean." The old man hadn't even turned his head toward Aaron as he spoke, just kept staring into his newspaper. "Just forget everything and everyone you've ever known and go live the rest of your life somewhere else, as someone else."
"Why would I want to do that?" Aaron asked. "If I haven't done anything to make people laugh at me or treat me like a geek, why would I have to move and make up a fake me?'
The man next to Aaron gave him a sideways glance in order to get a better idea of who he was talking to. The man thought Aaron looked to be about his own age, mid-40's, but seemed to have the mental capacity of a kid, a slow teenager at best.
He thought to himself that Aaron didn't look all that dumb, but he also didn't look all that bright. He mulled over whether or not he wanted to keep talking or if he should just drop it and find some other section of the paper to read. He decided to continue talking as he figured the man he now thought of as a kid wasn't bright enough to pick up on why he was bringing the subject up and thus, he could talk out the plan without having to worry about compromising his intentions.
"Let me put it this way. Say you got into trouble - a lot of trouble. So much trouble in fact that everyone you know would be angry with you, to the point of not ever wanting to speak to you again, nor have anything to do with you whatsoever. Everyone, all your friends and family, your neighbors and everyone you worked with. In fact, your boss would be so mad at you he'd fire you. The trouble you got into even made the Police mad at you. Wouldn't you want to run away and hide from that kind of trouble?"
"Wow. I've gotten everybody mad at me before, even my Uncle Bennie, but all I had to do was apologize to everyone and work at the landscaping place until I could pay for all the windows and the Jeffries' new tree. Of course I wasn't allowed to use the rider mower anymore but that was okay - the push mower is kinda good exercise."
The man sat exasperated. This attempt to bare his soul was getting him nowhere. He'd have better luck going to a Catholic church and blabbing to a Priest in a confessional.
"You know, you're right. Apologizing and making restitution is probably better than running away. So, is everyone you know still mad at you for that?"
"Nope, everyone's been real nice and they all say they aren't mad at me anymore - except Mason that is. Mason was supposed to be in charge of me when we were working at the Jefferies' home. His Dad made him work in the greenhouse the whole summer after the flowerbeds got torn up, the windows were broken, and the tree was knocked over. Those greenhouses get really hot in the summer so I don't really blame him for staying mad at me."
The man stifled a laugh as he sipped his coffee. "Yeah, I can see how he could still be mad at you."
He realized then that talking with Aaron was not going to get him anywhere and decided to leave. "Hey, I gotta go. You have a nice day."
Leaving enough to cover his breakfast and a decent tip the man got up and walked away, now just a little unsure of what he had been contemplating. As he pushed on the door to exit the diner he turned toward the man he regarded as a kid. The kid waved at him and said "Goodby Mister, have a good day, too."
Outside the diner the man looked down the street of the strange town towards what looked to be a Catholic church. It was mid-afternoon, surely there would be a Priest available to hear his confession.
Inside the diner Aaron Roberts, formerly known as Georg Hermann Kobell, appeared to absent-mindedly wipe down the glass he had been drinking from with a sterile sanitary wipe he had pulled out of his pocket, and then the knife and fork he had used to eat his breakfast.
His mind raced as he considered the odds against a stranger sitting next to him bringing up the subject of assuming a new identity to escape a life that was no longer tenable.
It had taken him years of watching 1950's American sitcoms to develop the character of a somewhat slow but pleasant, eternally optimistic simpleton and apparently that was a personality type that did indeed attract those sort of people - which he had discovered himself when he first started sitting next to random strangers to discuss his own plans to disappear.
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