Too many worries and ruins, plans ruined by worries, caught in a city with no way out or in or over walls that nobody could see. If he’d wanted to, Lucas might have been able to trace those lines with his feet, following new memories made by routine patrols. But he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to be here either. October was about the last month of good weather for travelling. If he left it any later he’d risk getting snowed in at the cottage, and stuck wasn’t what he liked being. At least here, at least here there was the illusion of not being stuck. He had a whole city to wander around in, enough parks to get away for a little while. But there were still sounds in parks, falling off the high buildings, it seemed. Drifting in on echoes. And he always knew he’d reach the end sometime sooner than later and the rush would all settle in again without his invitation. Caught between the bones of his skull, just like he was, only he wasn’t big enough. His head was small. Too small to fit it all in and sometimes it escaped when he had nothing else to say. Or crowded out his thoughts so they might as well have moved into someone else’s head for all the good they did him.

But not today. Not with the sun shining through the back of his coat, settling like a friendly cat, just about, all bright and brash until a cloud skittered across its face. No wind today. Well, not much down here, nothing like what it could be. Warm enough that everything was remembering it, and he’d be too hot by the end of his walk, but he’d been meeting Mark, and he preferred walking where he could. Less crowded than the buses or the subway, even if it took longer.

He knew the way well enough besides. He turned the corner with the car wheels coming up on the sidewalk and kept going two blocks past the fallen streetlight. Before he made it to the next landmark, however, a strangely simple contentment fell over him. Love, rough but true, as he dangled from a small hand and felt his feet bouncing off the ground again and again. Lucas stopped so suddenly in confusion he was lucky there was no one immediately behind him. He looked up first, feeling small, before he remembered he wasn’t and looked down. To one side the walkway was grey and spotted. On the other it tripped over the curb and turned into street. But reaching over the curb was a strand of red wool. He followed it to a stitched smile and button eyes. The doll had on a neat little dress, striped socks and black shoes, and there was an admittedly unnerving vacancy to its smiling stare, but Lucas found himself focusing on the dirty ground into the discoloured hands and the way fingers curled around his – its – wrists. 

Lost toys were worse than most lost items. Especially the stuffed ones, full of synthesised comfort and hugs. It had been a while since he’d found anything like this one though. A nice little rag-doll. Handmade by a sure-fingered woman humming along to a radio. Someone would be missing it. Maybe they’d come back. If they knew where to look…

In the absence of anything better to do, Lucas stood back up, folding the doll into a one-armed hug and smiling as its memories hugged back. Over his head, he could hear the adults talking, looking for something, can I help you? Well… The whole street had buildings full of similar questions, maybe one of them would have the same voice too. Or recognise the doll. He tried a café first, the staff weren’t sure, but they offered to keep the doll and ask the next shift, too. He said he’d come back. Mac’s next. They said no one with a stroller yet that day. He was just walking by a gun store, under the assumption that it was unlikely, eyeing the doll again, when it became double. They’d walked past the shop window. 

So, he turned right there and held up the doll again, then bent down and let it swing, squinting, trying to get as close to where it had been, but the light was bad and the window kept shining light in his eyes instead. Blinded his mind’s eye and that was funny because it was making his real eyes tear up too from the light. He tried touching it too late, when he couldn’t figure out what he was seeing at all and there were guns behind the glass and he didn’t want any but that’s all he was seeing now. Until he raised his head and saw a man looking back at him. Unaware that he’d momentarily appeared to have a bad back injury suddenly flare up, or any other possible explanation for his awkward poses, Lucas gave the guy a grin and went towards the door. If the window couldn’t show him, maybe someone inside had seen what it had. A description was better than asking about a stroller and a kid with the doll. Lots of kids had dolls, and strollers…

Through the door and swinging on laden hinges, Lucas swept in with a slight swaying before he caught his balance. [b]“Hello, hi. You should change stations.”[/b]

This radio station played the same songs too many times. He could name them, and he didn’t want to. But it was better than he’d expected. Except the arm holding up the tv… He frowned up at it and went wide around the space beneath it, things that remembered falling might fall again. [b]“You rent guns?”[/b] The question emerged surprised, and just as loudly as his initial greeting, unperturbed by having veered off subject. There was enough in here to weigh in on his words, and he needed to get through that before he could get back to the doll. Now though, he just wanted to know if renting really was an option. He hadn’t known that before. Mind you, he’d never walked into a gunstore before, either.