Walking along in a park on a cool autumn evening, a middle aged man noticed a child up in a quercus virginiana tree. The boy was lying on one of the thick branches, dangling his legs with his chin buried into his crossed arms. The gentleman, arms crossed behind him, approached the tree, which crossed with the sidewalk.
“What are you doing up there, kid?” he asked.
The boy, looking down without much of a turn of his head, responded brightly. “Me? I’m up in the tree.”
“I can see that,” the man chuckled. “Why are you up in a tree?”
“Why?” The boy seemed to wonder, as if no one had ever asked him the question. “Well, this is my happy place.”
“Your happy place, you say?”
“Yeah.”
The gentleman took a few steps off the sidewalk, closer to the tree, keeping his hands lazily gripped behind his back. “Why does it make you happy, up in this tree?”
“It’s a big tree,” the kid chimed.
“Indeed it is,” the man laughed, but then pointed out, “There are plenty of big trees in this park.”
“Yeah.”
“What about this tree makes it stand out from the rest?”
“Um. I don’t know,” he answered simply. “I like this tree. I can climb it.”
“Ah, so you can,” said the gentleman. “Are you not able to climb the other ones yet?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m sure a young lad like you will be able to climb them one day.”
“Yeah.”
A slight breeze blew on by, rustling the leaves above them.
“When you’re older, do you think you will climb the other trees?”
“Um, maybe,” the kid debated. “But I still like this place.”
“Grown familiar with it, haven’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t blame you,” the gentleman said as he surveyed the park. “Not a very busy part of the park, is it?”
“Yeah.”
“Plenty of time and space to yourself.” The man noticed only a single bench situated in this part of the park. He held back the temptation to go sit on it, in order to stay with the boy. “Do you enjoy the solitude?”
“What do you mean, mister?”
“Do you enjoy being by yourself, here?”
“Yeah.”
“Why so?”
“It’s quiet here.”
“Ah, I see,” the gentleman chuckled. “Am I bothering you, then?”
“No, mister,” the kid answered. “You are not very loud.”
“Good, good.” The man dipped his head and idly shuffled some of the dead leaves at his feet. “Where are your friends at, kid?”
“They don’t like to come here.”
“Oh? Why so?”
“Too boring for them.”
“I see, I see,” the man openly mused. “Everyone has a world they want to interact with, I suppose.”
“Have you been to other worlds, mister?” the kid asked with wide and curious eyes.
The man laughed at the kid’s interpretation. “Indeed I have, kid.”
He leaned his head down. “Have you met any Martians, then?”
The gentleman laughed again. “No, I have not. However, I’ve met many different people of all shapes and sizes, but are just like you and me.”
“Really?”
“I’ve visited the French. The English. Germany, Sweden, Italy…” the man listed out. The kid listened with great interest. “And further east, to Poland, Romania, Ukraine, Saudi Arabia, Egypt… And further southeast, to India, Vietnam, Australia, the Philippines.”
“Wow…!” the boy breathed. “Are you a billionaire, mister?!”
“No, I am not,” the gentleman shook his head. “Just a man with a lot of time.”
“No fair,” said the kid. “I have a lot of time, but mom won’t let me leave here.”
“Have you been to Europe, kid?”
“No,” the boy somberly answered. “I don’t have a rocket ship.”
“You don’t need a rocket ship to travel to other worlds,” the gentleman chuckled. “Trust me.”
“Which place was your favorite, mister?”
The man thought for a moment. “My favorite, huh?”
The boy took his musing as a question. “Which one was your happy place?”
“My happy place!” he chuckled to himself. “Honestly, I would say my happy place is here, in New York City.”
The boy was surprised with his answer. Speechless.
“Although it’s interesting to travel the world, I’m always happy to come back home, here to New York.”
“Really?”
“I’m just like you, kid,” the man smiled brilliantly. “There may be many other taller and greater trees in the park, but this is my tree. And there’s no other one like it.”