The Stranger with the Leaf

Leaves get everywhere sometimes.

As the sun was fittingly tucked behind the dark grey, bloated clouds, the man who was unfittingly inside a green suit, a four-leaf clover pin, and a crumpled green top hat was slowing to a stop on the non-crunchy green leaves. But it was just grass. Standing there, three times the height of the grey, door-shaped stone that one of his eyes was wandering around, the other eye found the epitaph.
The shadowed stone had carved on it a messy scramble of letters. “dop achakitoggubudukabokadeb” There was one crack that went along the tombstone, right through the epitaph’s “chh,” and it had a green leaf that was fitted and stuck inside. It wasn’t grass. The man could see the veins of the whispering leaf. But that was the stranger who was saying something near him.
“Fitting attire for such a dreary moment. Never forgetting the yin in the yang,” the stranger said, strangely.
The man looked at the stranger, youthfully. “Do you mean the yang in the yin?”
“I guess I would mean that. Do you mind a conversation? I wouldn't want to intrude.”
“Not at all,” the man’s mouth said to the stranger’s ears. “I’m only here for an old buddy. Been too long, you know.”
“Yeah. I know.” The stranger vaguely gestured to the epitaph with the veiny leaf that doesn’t whisper. “I see your friend was the comedian sort. That why you dressed like that? One of those promises?”
“No, nothing like that,” he said, normally. “I make my own clothing, and I like to get a little whimsical sometimes.” The man moved his eyes from the distracting leaf down to his whimsical suit, taking the top hat off and examining it. “See how it’s all wrinkly? Made it after I saw a rainbow a decade ago. I thought about showing up to work—I work with a group of friends on a lotta different projects that just ended up as my job, so we don't really have any rules, so I thought about showing up to work in it. Found myself only wearing it here. Don’t know why. Just seems to fit me nicer in this kind of weather.” The man rehatted his color-lacking head.
The stranger thought for a moment, thoughtfully. “Well, I’m sure your friend here likes the change in scenery.”
The man thought for an even longer moment, strangely. “You a religious man?”
To which the stranger answered immediately. “I don’t care much for any answer, or what’s what, or who’s who. I like to treat it all to be as real as the reason behind the belief.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, what’s your reason for believing that?”
“You know, we’ve all got our own reasons for what we do or think. Sometimes it’s best not to know something before you understand it yourself. Otherwise, what happens when you figure it out, understand it for the first time, but are clouded by what you’ve been told? Honestly, my reason isn’t all that. But I sure know how deep it feels to finally see things in a way that fits your own mind, without letting yourself get trapped by that very idea.”
“I guess… that makes sense.” The man stood for a while. “Do you ever notice when something just… isn’t right, even though everything is as it should be?”
“Yeah, that leaf is bugging me too. It’s way too veiny,” the stranger said, strangely, plucking the veiny leaf from the crack. The stranger did a strange thing, placing the green leaf in the man’s suit pocket.
“What?” the man asked, strangely comforted.
“Always helps to hold onto something green on Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Mmh, good thing we met. Would have been pinched all day.”
“Why aren’t you wearing green?”
“I have a leaf too,” the stranger put his hand in his pocket, which was too small, and pulled out nothing. “Oh. It seems I lost my leaf.”
The man reached in his green pocket to grab his green leaf, but it was gone, and the stranger was gone. He moved his eye to the epitaph, and the other eye looked around, strangely.
“dop achakitoggubudukabokadeb”
The man read it out loud with his mouth and chuckled. “I get it now. It sounds like you're falling down the stairs. That’s not how you passed, so I didn’t get it.”
The man moved his eyes to the non-crunchy leaves that were just grass and plucked a four-leaf clover that had been there. “Here you go, buddy.” He set it inside the crack in the stone, right between the “c” and the “h” where the stone was flat. “Now we’re matching.”