The green city pick up truck pulled up to the iron gates. An older man and a younger one exited. The older man held a large ring of keys. The ring was brass and resembled the kind found in old movies. You know like the ones the jailers carried in an Edward G Robinson movie. The gate, he opened, could in some warped way have been considered a cell door. "Wow that's a fine lookin' lady in that convertible," the younger man commented. "She has been here every morning for the last few months. I'm not rightly sure what she does. I mean, I see her jog around the park a few times, then she goes and sits on a stone bench over there and kind meditates I guess." "You Gots to be kiddin'?" The younger man suggested. "You just watch. It's what she does every morning." The convertible passed the pick up before the two men were settled. It passed them at a slow respectable speed. As much respect for the speed bumps as for her surrounds the older man was sure. The Memorial Park was old, to old to have parking spaces. The young blond woman had found her space months before. Just a flat spot of grass where she could position two of the convertible's wheels. She began her morning routine by removing herself from the convertible. It had been a daunting task for her older friend, but he didn't have that or any other problems now. She first walked ten yards, more or less, to the right then about twenty or so feet up the hill. When she arrived at his spot, she stared down for a moment then said, "Good morning Edgar you old bastard." She could almost hear him laugh and speak. "For me Bug it is an accident of birth... but you are a self made woman." It had been their morning joke for a full year. She had always known that edgar was going to leave. It had been the reason for their meeting. It had been his reason anyway. After her good morning to her friend and mentor, Bug took a look around her Garden of Stone. It was the same exact view almost every morning. The old cemetery had no visitors at that time of day. In the summer she jogged at seven A.M. It was the time the park opened. In the winter it was 8 A.M. It had to do with not allowing park accessibility in the dark. It hadn't stopped the vandals but maybe it slowed them down. When Bug decided to do her morning Jog she had to raise the distance to make it come out right. One circle of the park road was .72 miles. She made three circles each morning. It came out to be just a little over the two miles she normally ran at the gym. The park was tougher because half of it was uphill. Bug ran because she had once been chubby. She ran even when Edgar had teased her for it. They had worked out a compromise. When Edgar was alive, she jogged while he sat on a different park bench and watched. His joke was, "How the hell can you run like that with no one chasing you?" Her answer was always the same. "It's easy, I just pretend that you are chasing me to have sex." That always brought a smile to his face. Edgar was one of those old men who smiled with every part of himself. She thought of Edgar as she ran, she always did. She even glanced over at the car as she passed it. No she wasn't delusional, Edgar came to visit her now and then. Mostly in dreams, but now and then in day dreams. Those day dreams seemed almost real. He had promised her, the night before he passed away, that he would not leave until she was ready. She wasn't ready, so he came to 'visit' her now and then to push her in the right direction. Push was the wrong word, maybe to guide her. Bug finished her two miles just a few yards from the convertible. She moved up the hill again. See seated herself on a small stone bench, placed there in memory of Agnes Shiftson. She had no idea who Agnes had been in life, but she always said good morning to her as well. Unlike Edgar, Agnes never replied. "Well Edgar," she said looking over at his grave site some fifteen yards away. "I have a meeting with your lawyer this morning. It's been six months now and I still can't get a handle on all this."