The Deer

"Can I help you?" the deer asked.

"I don't think so." was my reply. 

Walking back to my apartment I had seen the animal eating the shrubbery that lined the sidewalk. As I approached, it looked up and we made meaningful eye contact for a solid five minutes before it decided to address me. 

"Well if you'll excuse me, I been trying to eat and I don't feel comfortable with you just standing there lookin at me all googly eyed."

"My apologies. I'll leave."

I don't know if it was the sigh, the way I walked with my hands in my pockets and eyes cast down, or just the general air of depression that seemed to hang over me like an ever present thunder cloud, but whatever it was, it invoked a sense of pity within the deer. 

As I walked away the animal called out to me.

"Hey, is there something wrong?"

I turned to look at the deer and just shrugged.

"Yeah I thought so. What's bothering you man-child?" 

I was never one to share my feelings with others, especially people I had just met. But this wasn't a people, it was a deer. 

"I don't really know. Everything, I guess."

"Can you please be more specific man-child?"

"What do you even care?"

"Because there ain't nobody who makes a big scene of sighing and looking down at their feet as they walk by who doesn't got some sort of problem they secretly hope somebody will ask them about. Clearly you're hurtin, and I am too compassionate of a being to allow you to continue in that way without talking about it."

"Well what good is it gonna do me if I tell you my problems?"

"Have you ever heard of empathy man-child? It's a connection on an emotional level that allows two people to share in one another's pain or experiences."

"But-"

"No, no, no, don't give me none of this 'but you're a deer' bull crap. Life ain't easy for me neither. I got be looking over my shoulder 24/7 wondering what it is that's trying to kill me next. And you know that whole thing with the deer in headlights? Well the thing is, you know they're headlights and you know that if you don't move you'se gonna die but there still ain't nothing you can do about it! You're frozen! Man-child, I understand that the every-day stress of merely living can sometimes be too much to handle, so just talk to me!"

I desperately wanted to talk to someone. Preferably another human being, but there was something undeniably comforting, not only in what the deer said, but how she had said it. A way that made me disposed to unload my worries on the back of that strangely compassionate creature. 

I told her of my failures, what I saw as shortcomings. I told her of my fears and how sometimes I felt as if there was little to no hope for my future. At one point she asked me about my relationship with my father and it opened up a whole new door to the conversation. 

Eventually I had said all that I could say. We just stood there, looking at each other. Her black eyes not moving from my face. I could tell she was thinking. Wondering what she could say to me that would make me feel better but at the same time, not sound too cliche. In reality, she didn't have to say anything. Just talking about it had already lifted some of the burden off my shoulders. 

The silence continued for a little while. I broke it by asking if I could pet her. She seemed alarmed. 

"What? No! No, no, you can't. Even if I wanted to let you I couldn't! If you were to come any closer I would get scared and run away. Instinct, you know?"

I was disappointed. There was just something about wild animals that made you want to touch them. Especially something gentle, like a deer. 

"I understand." I said. 

"Listen" she said "about your worries, I think that if you-"

She stopped mid sentence. Her ears perked up and she stared over my shoulder with the same look of alarm she had when I asked if I could pet her. 

I turned around to see a bicycle and rider coming up the sidewalk. The whirring of the wheels had tipped off the deer's sensitive hearing. The bike came closer, and as it did I turned around to see the deer run up the hill and disappear into the brush. 

I was angry at the bicyclist. I actually did want to hear what the poor animal had to say. I called after the deer, over and over again, but it was no use. 

Instinct wouldn't let her look back.