When It's Time to Move On

Door 4 - Chapter 45 - Search for Passion

It wasn't easy to find what his passion was, as Harris realized over the next few days. The city was steeped with points of interest. Harris drank in the atmosphere, seeking the inspiration he craved for. He nestled among the masses in the streets, simply analyzing the wanderers, hoping to uncover a story one would tell. He dabbled with writing, thinking that all he'd experienced could be translated into words he could share with others. 

Harris briefly experimented with sketching, when one sunny day he'd spent in a park and been mistaken for an artist – his devil-may-care appearance being the reason – and figured he might as well give it a shot. The couple he'd sketched, Nick and Emily, raved over his skills. Feeling encouraged, he began sketching everything within sight.

But none of these attempts stoked the fire he wanted within him. Harris floundered in his search for passion and resumed his promenade of wandering the city, which offered enough bustle for him to be enamored by its glow.

At times, he would gaze at children playing and ponder over what life would have been for him as a family man with a child of his own.

During his conversations with Nick and Emily -- who'd shared their hopes to start a family -- he fell into a reverie, imagining himself with his child, perhaps playing video games, or running around the park. It had been part of his future plans to settle down one day. But circumstances never unfolded that way. 

Being married seemed farfetched for some reason. But he could always picture himself as a father. It was something that seemed easy, not due to any complacency, but because he knew he would have given all his love and effort for his child.

That was not to be, he thought, and he was thankful enough for everything he'd been bestowed with.

Everyone he had encountered in the new city was cordial with him; his neighborhood was filled with well-mannered people, save for one group.

Uncannily, the same children that had run past him the first day did so again, and once more the same boy bumped into him -- Harris later discovered his wallet was stolen. His neighbor warned him of the lids notorious for their stealing. He hadn't taken it seriously Harris until the day one of the rims of his new car was stolen. He attempted to catch the children in the act but found himself outnumbered and outsmarted when they stole his wallet yet again. Thereafter, Harris started to park his car a block away.

By this point, he'd discovered his enthusiasm for photography. Harris had stumbled upon his sister's camera in one of his boxes, along with the pictures she'd taken. He marveled at their quality. The pictures hadn't been a simple reflection of the person -- they showed the emotion behind the eyes. Each landscape was beautifully captured; he could almost imagine himself there. 

Harris resolved to emulate his sister's efforts and began taking pictures of all his favorite locations, and the people he met, and compared each day's snaps with the next. He had a feeling he would find something hidden in them one of these days, and with that, it had become a habit.

Harris was well-known in the park by now for eagerly taking photos of the visitors. Unlike the sketches, his pictures had a much better reception, and some people were even willing to pay him. But Harris only chased after quality, and he earnestly continued clicking away because he felt none of the pictures captured the same emotion his sister's had. 

An admirer of his photos left a business card, telling him there could be an exhibition to display them if he came up with better material. However, the location was far off, and he didn't fancy his chances much. Still, the positive response he'd received was enough to motivate him to consider this newfound talent seriously.

After a productive day at the park, where he photographed a family of three enjoying their first-ever picnic, Harris returned to his neighborhood, eager to have the pictures developed soon. Upon his arrival, he noticed a gathering by the sidewalk. 

A group of children eyed something out of sight; he realized it was the same crooks that had been vandalizing the neighborhood. There were too many for him to apprehend, but he thought he could photograph them to identify the kids.

Harris parked his car, leaving it running in case he had to escape quickly, and ambled over toward the group, grabbing his camera. Ever so slowly, he snapped a perfect shot of each of their faces. Feeling satisfied, he made to leave but the kids had seen him. They didn't seem remotely worried and stared at him instead. 

Harris sensed something else afoot, and instinctively turned to look at his car. As he expected, the other boys had been serving as a distraction, while the wallet crook now had himself placed in the driver's seat.

"Hey!" Harris yelled.

The boy gaped wide-eyed, shut the door, and revved up the engine. Harris sped toward his car; there was no way he would let the kid take off with it. He managed to jump through the lowered window, as the boy tried to swat him away. Harris groped at the gear to stop the car, his legs dangling outside; the boy had hit the accelerator at top speed. Finally, he toppled completely inside, grabbed the boy into submission, and hit the brake.

"You'll kill me!" The boy struggled against him.

"Don't be so dramatic. I'm just restraining you," said Harris, opening the door and shoving the boy out.

"No, they'll kill me because of you!" The boy pointed toward a couple of men on the other sidewalk.

"Sure, kid, you really expect me to believe that?" Harris smirked. "I know you're going to run off the sec-"

The car window shattered into pieces as a bullet smashed into it. Evidently, the kid was right, the men were armed and had their guns trained at them. 

"Get in now!" Harris threw the kid inside, who attempted to drive. "No, I get the wheel."

"Go, GO, GO!" The boy screamed.

There was no need to tell him again, Harris instantly slammed his foot on the accelerator, and they raced out of there, the men left behind. However, in his alarm – which was shared by the boy – he never let his foot go as the car roared into the street, miles, and miles ahead until they were out of the city and into urban fields. All the while the boy kept screaming in his ear.

"You could help me," Harris shouted over the noise.

"How?"

"By shutting up!"

The boy didn't comply though, and gripped Harris tight, still in his lap as well. With all the commotion in full swing and no end in sight, he had a feeling this was going to be a long trip.