Visibility on that day was exceptionally bad, even for June. I couldn’t see my own nose. However my body had the way home carved into the bones through a decade of dragging myself back from the drudgery. As I kept walking through the blind dream, I heard a creak ringing through the fog. A rhythmic sound, a familiar noise. My body tensed and my jaw clenched. Slowly the gloom drifted with the ocean wind blowing into the quiet Californian beach town.
A boy, no more than six was swinging in a park, alone. His legs, barely scraping the sandy floor struggled to push himself on the swing. He seemed to be enjoying himself looking at the vigor with which he swung front and back.
“Was a park this close to my place?”, I wondered without curiosity as I slowly turned around to find my way back. An eternity spent without knowing my own neighborhood; I felt a tinge of shame squeeze my heart.
“Come play with me”, a little voice echoed on the empty street.
I turned around. I saw the tiny eyes look straight at me. “I’m sorry, I’m tired”, I say with forced sympathy. All I wanted was to go home, order takeout, and watch a dumb show . I didn’t have the time to spend rolling in the dirt; it was the privilege of kids who didn’t have to pay taxes.
“I’m boooored…”, he whined. He hopped off the swing and walked towards the fence, the only thing that protected me from his childish expectations.
“Fine, but only for a bit”, I lift the bag off my shoulders and walk around the fence towards the entrance. I knew I couldn’t win against a kid’s persistence. It was a battle I lost even before I fought.
“Come swing with me”, his smile beamed. He ran towards me as I was looking around with the bag in my hands. “No one’s here. It’s just you and me. No one can steal your bag; you’re safe here”, he grabbed the bag out of my hands, placed it near the trunk of a tree and pulled me towards the swings.
I looked back, one more to make sure my bag was in one piece. I hoped the thick bark of the tree wouldn’t scrape against my bag. Does it matter? It’s already as old as a bag can get, I scoffed. A gust of wind blew again bringing another wave of fog. As the gigantic tree turned translucent, I wondered how old the tree was. It must have been older than the neighborhood. Old trees house spirits of the ancestors; my mom would tell stories of fairies and gremlins that lived in these trees. Perhaps one of those spirits would guard my bag.
As the swing started moving again, my joints stiffened up. I walked over to the next swing and sat down, clutching on to the metal chains. My legs trembled and a shiver ran down my spine. I didn’t forget.
“Are you scared of swings? You don’t have to worry, I’ll protect you!”, the boy said earnestly.
This cheeky brat, I laughed. “Someone pushed me off a swing when I was five. I hit my head and things have never been the same again”.
He looked at me questioningly followed by an uncomfortable silence.
I looked at the ground, a pit of dirt dug up by hyperactive children, my shoes – leather scratched and covered in sand. I took my time to swing slowly, pushing myself one leg flick at a time. As the swing sped up, my body tensed up over and over again. But the wind in my hair felt good. My heart sunk every time the swing dropped and soared as it went back up. Pretty soon, I was giggling quietly to myself. How long had it been since I last laughed?
He hopped off the swing and walked towards the other end of the park. I came to a slow stop and followed quietly; this kid didn’t seem like the type who can be reasoned with. He pointed toward the old tree stumps of varying heights. The kid hopped on one of the stumps and leaped to another. I removed my shoes and followed .
At the end, I was huffing. It had been ages since I moved my body. I put on the shoes on my shaky legs after losing balance multiple times. I picked my bag up and dusted off the sand from the bag and my clothes before bidding adieu to my new friend. He had a kind smile on his face, a smile that went far beyond his age. He took a step and vanished into the mist. I don’t remember how I reached home. However, I remembered the smile as he was waving his hand gently. It is a memory I’ll have for the rest of my life.
June Gloom was in full bloom. The days melted together as the sultry sun cooked the ground, persistent humidity and the mist never faded. I was used to this life of routine — summer or winter, weekdays or holidays — like a hungry ghost in search of repentance. However, I had something to look forward to everyday after work. I had made a new friend.
I would drop by the park every day after work to play with the little kid. He was a sarcastic little chimp, overflowing with energy. A breath of fresh air in my clogged up life. Little by little, I got to know more about him. That his name was Ming. That he was in second grade. His parents worked for a firm nearby and he was an only child. His love of swings didn’t need an introduction; he was on the swings most of the time. But he knew every corner of the playground like it was his own.
“You see those little circles in the trunk? A circle is formed every year the tree is alive for”, I tell him while he leapt from one stump to another, no small feat for a pipsqueak.
“Let’s count the age of the trees then!”, he squeals running towards me to grab my hand. “Can you also tell when it was born? We can have a birthday party for these trees”, his eyes gleaming.
Pfft. “I suppose you can tell which season they were born in. They’re dead, so how does it matter”, I said, unbothered to count the miniscule rings on the probably worm-ridden stumps.
He didn’t say anything, so I turned around, surprised how he could be out of retorts. He was looking at the floor, quiet as a summer night. I said something I shouldn’t have. “This isn’t the first time I said no…”, I thought as I ruffled his hair hoping that would console him.
“Haha, you’re right. It doesn’t matter”, he said, gaining his usual cheerful composure. “I was just bored”, he added, walking towards the swings again.
The silence was awkward. All I could hear was the sound of two creaks following each other. I didn’t know how to console anyone, let alone a kid. All I did when my team members left was to wish them good luck with their future endeavors.
“Arghh, I don’t want to go to work”, I whined, his naivete rubbing off on me.
“Don’t worry, I’m here for you as long as you need”, he says with a puff of air. His pride was as charming as ever.
“So you’ll keep me company for as long as I’ll skip work?” I throw it back at him, a silly question to ask a six year old.
“My mom says work’s boring. So, I’ll play with you forever if you want me to”, he said with his usual kind smile plastered across his face.
I laugh in agreement as I take my leave for the day. “Looks like he comes from a good family”. I was envious.
The mist slowly turned into fog as seasons moved along. The world plunged into the fall season and the entire playground was covered in red. The stumps looked like a path across hell. The trees were drying up. I wished for the fairies I couldn’t see anymore to have a warm sleep through the winter that was soon to come.
Ming was having fun kicking the leaves around. He asked me questions like every kid his age. Why do the leaves turn red? Why do they fall down? Why do we die? I tried answering them as best as I could. I couldn’t tell him that I thought people never died. That there were beings that weren’t humans. I didn’t want to fuel a kid’s imagination. I’d be answerable to his parents for any stories he took home. I’d distract him by talking about the stars. The fall skies were clear and the days were getting shorter. I told him to look for the shapes in the night sky.
“You think creatures are born out of those stars”, he said with a blank face.
I fumbled. “Of course not. Living beings cannot be born out of star alignments. They aren’t even at the same distance from here. One could be here and another could be at the edge of the universe. How can something come out of the stars so far apart?”, I blabbered without a pause.
“You’re smart; you know eeeeverything”, he giggles. “I wanted to be an astronaut, but now I’m already one because of you”, he said with a smile which had a tooth missing.
“Whatever”, I never really learned how to deal with compliments. “I can teach you math too and help with your homework if you need to cheat”, I added trying to hide my embarrassment.
He didn’t say anything. **
“He’s an honest kid. Aren’t I just…”, a sting of guilt hit me.
Days passed in a blur. The trees looked bare and naked. The songbirds’ nests were now visible, but the birds had already migrated to find a warmer place. I didn’t remember what songs they sang. I had other worries in life. Meeting my new friend made me wonder if playing was perhaps not a waste of time. Take that, Mom! Looking at him speed down the slide with an ear piercing scream made me smile. Yes, it was annoying but, damn, his smile was contagious.
“Come, let’s play hopscotch”, he called out, getting bored of sliding down.
“Sorry, not today. My ankle hurts more than usual”, I had to confess. It was a mild pain in the beginning, maybe from the movements my body wasn’t used to. A gentle throbbing that reminded me of a life I missed out on. It wasn’t bad enough to get checked and the pain was constant for the entire summer. The cold wind must have stiffened the joints which made the pain grow.
The kid kept smiling. My soreness was probably his badge of honor, his pride in being the king of the playground. My joints creaked like the old swing when I moved. They also popped — so loud he would notice and tease “you’re so bad at this”.
A couple more weeks to peak winter. Winter coats were now the norm. The temperatures never went below freezing, but the winters could get quite chilly. So, when I saw Ming wearing the same clothes as always, I was concerned. In fact, he had been wearing the same handful the whole time. They looked clean and new, so I never brought it up.
“Aren’t you going to put on a sweater?”, I asked him involuntarily when the cool metal touched my leg as I slid down the old slide.
“It’s not–”, he replied as my skirt got caught in a burr on the slide. My skirt had a big rip on the side. And underneath that rip, was a huge gash, far worse than what a tiny burr should cause. How on earth were they letting kids play on this old school equipment? It was a recipe for tetanus.
Before I could react, Ming quickly reached out with his handkerchief and staunched the bleeding. “You should get it bandaged”, he says with a smile.
The smile which was suddenly infuriating. I was hurt and bleeding, my ankle was throbbing and my skirt was torn. Why was he so calm?
“It’s the only skirt you’ll lose. You don’t have many of them anyway…”, he chuckled as I picked up my stuff to leave.
Damn right he was. I was never getting on that slide again. “Don’t get on that until they get it fixed”, I yelled from a distance. Hey, I still cared about him.
He said something but it was swallowed by the fog. A snarky comment, certainly. He always does that. Yet, I turned around to wave as he stood silently in the park. “He’s so silent at times. It’s creepy”, I thought as the pain from the cut throbbed with every step.
“One leg cut, one leg twisted!”, I cried out loud trying to minimize the pain. “Why does he always smile? Where are his parents? Why don’t they pick him up?”. My cynicism came back the moment I left. I knew he was loved more than me but I tried to frame him.
Over the next few months, the pain didn’t reduce one bit. Did I go to the doctor? I must have. I had bandages on. When days flow into each other, when you drown in work, when all your thoughts are full of beating pain, it’s hard to remember.
One thing I knew for sure was that winter was here. The chill air, the early nights and the quiet stillness was hard to miss. From the misty haze to the winter fog, it almost felt like my life didn’t change much. But increasingly, I felt alive. I was laughing more. I was getting mad. I cried at work a couple times without anyone noticing. I’d been doing the same work forever. I started noticing more things about myself. Not just the frayed sleeves or the worn down heels. I loved the swings. I loved the birds sing. I was waiting for the spring.
“Who pushed you out of the swing?”, the curious little voice asked me one day when I got a little too tense after the swing’s speed picked up.
“I don’t know. There wasn’t anyone around me when it happened. I don’t remember anything after”, I replied honestly, hoping he wouldn’t be scared.
“So you think it wasn’t a human”, he said confidently.
I didn’t have much to say. I kept thinking if I had wronged anyone for being pushed so hard. I was swinging high, so high that no one could reach. No one believed me, so I never talked about it. After all, it was an excuse to hide my carelessness. I started believing it was my carelessness until a while ago. It was important for me to believe in myself, for I was about to have another fateful encounter, just like I did with the boy.
Either I have a bad sense of direction or the city layout changes every night; I found myself lost again. At least I had a vague idea of where I was — I was in the middle of the government sector, with all the administrative buildings built in the past five centuries. Walking in the dark through the old buildings was an ethereal experience. It was completely empty, devoid of a human soul. “Government officials clock out on time”, I laughed as I stepped into the new playground I found.
Old stone buildings with lush courtyards maintained in the dead of winter, that placescreamed Royalty. I didn’t know if I was even allowed to be there. I could walk in, so it must be ok. From Greek Revival to Neo-Gothic, the buildings spoke of the history of this quaint city. I looked at the gargoyles in one quadrant and dragons and boats in another. A mishmash for sure I thought, but they fit in together so well.
As I kept walking into the sector, I heard a few rustles from the far corner to my right. Maybe I had gone mad, maybe I had become crazy, but I thought it was a good idea to follow the sound. Looks like I’ve always had a great affinity for mystery and a complete and utter lack of a sense of danger. It could have been a rabbit, it could have been a coyote. I was less scared of foxes than the mighty skunk. After ripping my skirt, I wasn’t letting another skirt go in vain.
The rustle moved across the block, making me work hard to chase it, ignoring the pain in both of my legs. It was too loud for a rabbit and too fast for the creatures of the garbage. When two bright orbs shone through the bushes locked in at me, I decided to abort my plan and ran into a building nearby, like a deer in the headlights.
I ran across the corridor, flanked by huge pillars on each side. The porous stone masks hung from the pillars gazed at me with chilling intent, hiding the only sliver of light around. I saw a sparkling reflection at the end of the pathway. I sprinted. Every step ached with a sting and I didn’t know where I was going. I should find the exit soon, I think as I dive right into the beast’s belly. At the end of the hallway, right at the edge of the pool, the only obstacle between me and the pool was a statue.
A life sized statue dressed in marble, kneeling on one knee stood right in front of me. Her hands pointed towards the heaven, not to guide or to find but to receive — her palms gracefully turned upwards. I looked up along with her — she was clearly looking at something important — at the full moon, blinding the night sky. The pool reflected the moon and the moon reflected her gaze onto me.
The statue turned around, placed her ice cold hands on my back and led me into the pool. I walked in, mesmerized. Her lean fingers slid up to my shoulders. She smiled at me. I smiled back. Gripping me, she plunged me into the water.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I could feel the stony strength push me deeper. I was struggling to get out; it didn’t take much of her strength to keep me under. I could feel her motherly smile and her kindhearted gaze directed at me while her hands choked me. An electric sting travelled through my lungs with every gulp. The last gasp of air left me when she slammed me against the pool bed. I swallowed the liquid reflexively; agony cruising through every cell of my body. In a flash, I woke up in cold sweat, coughing up the illusionary elixir.
That dream didn’t leave me for days. And then, days turned into weeks. I went to work in a daze. I went to the park in a daze. I couldn’t forget the maze of the buildings but I was too scared to go to the government sector. Was it real? Was it a figment of my imagination? I didn’t want to face my thoughts. I tried to work it away but I could not. Drowning is a primordial fear that changes a person forever. The dream ejected me out of the autopilot mode I was living in for years. Every little thing startled me like a new born baby.
March tiptoed in like a stealth cat. I listened to the song birds twitter on my way to the office. By evening, buds had bloomed open along the path back home. I’d play with Ming with the same excitement he had. We’d run around the park playing tag and sit around in the sandpit making sandcastles. I even let him push me on the swing. I started thinking Why don’t I just go home and change before coming here every time I dusted the sand off my dress. It was a simple thought. I asked myself why I never thought about that. Did my frazzled clothes not matter? Did my work not matter? Feeling the brand new sensations in my body, I knew the answer. It didn’t matter.
I looked at Ming. He saw me and smiled. For a split second, the smiling Moon invaded my mind. Looking back at him, I saw him in the same fresh clothes he always wears. I knew he’d only wear one of the five or six clothes he had but they were always clean. “I should ask his mom for cleaning tips”, I brushed the dirt again and walked to hop on the merry go round with him. His tiny body used all the strength it could gather to spin me. As I saw him come through my vision and leave, something ticked me off about him. I couldn’t point my finger at it. That feeling persisted even after I left the playground. The grass was lush and green, the sky was clear and blue, but my mind was still in a haze.
I felt the same at work as I pummeled through the paperwork. For a brief moment, I felt I already knew the contents of the paper I was editing. Was I so comfortable that I didn’t even have to think anymore? The thought depressed me more than I wished for it to. I decided to leave work early that evening which was a hard ask I had to fight for. The long scar on my leg was my trump card.
That day, the sun still up, I saw the small frame on the swing on my way back — a daily occurrence at this point. I thought I can change out of these clothes later and walked directly towards the park for a long evening of laughter. Strolling leisurely towards the park, I called out for the kid, “Do you stay in the park all evening? I see you now, I see you at night. Don’t you study at all?”. He ran towards me.
We decided on the game of the day — an adventurous obstacle course, walking across the logs and hopping on the stumps before going under the slides and over the merry- go-round among many other pieces of equipment. Walking in my socks over the moist grass was refreshing. I felt nostalgic about the entire year I had with my new friend. Soon, this beautiful place would get gloomy again.
“When’s your birthday?”, I asked him who was walking in front of me on the log, struggling with his balance.
“January 1st”, he said with a tee-hee.
“Are you joking?” I asked, thinking back to what I did for the New Year’s. I hadn’t celebrated New Year’s in a long time. Year end parties at work were for the people who deserved it. My team wasn’t doing great, I must have passed out drinking at home.
“Nope, I’m being honest”, he jumped off the log.
“You should have told me. We could have celebrated it together for a bit. I’m pretty sure we met that day as well”, I followed suit, jumping off carefully with my still shaky legs.
“But we hadn’t met back then”, he told, turning towards me.
The message didn’t land well; I didn’t either. I lost my footing. “What?…”, I blurted out.
“Mm-mm”, he added, and then walked away to the next stage in the course.
As he hopped from one stump to another, I finally understood what gave me the ick. He hadn’t grown any taller. Adults don’t change much. Maybe a wrinkle here, maybe some weight there. I hadn’t been around kids in forever, so I never thought about it. Unease swept over me as I hopped behind him. What do I do? How do I bring this up? These thoughts kept churning in my stomach as we went around the park.
I was leaving the grounds when something struck me. I ran over to him and asked him, “Hey, can I meet your mom? My socks are stained and I don’t know how to clean them.”
He kept looking at me from the swing as it came to a standstill. Struggling to his feet as always, he shuffled out of the park and pointed his finger, “That way…”. I’d never had reason to head in that direction, it was the opposite of home.
I realized it was first time I saw him outside the park. My body took short, cautious steps behind him while he waited for me to catch up to him. I didn’t know where he lived. I followed him along, the only sounds, my heels, my heart and his shoes clacking against the pavement in sync. Step by step, another sound joined. It sounded like a distant beep of a garbage truck collecting trash. Don’t they come in the mornings? I didn’t care. He knew where he was going. “He knows his house…”, I stared at him with tangled thoughts. Was he real, or just another phantom I should never have touched?
It was almost sun down and I was tired. I should’ve just gone home. As we kept walking, a mild throbbing filled my head. The high-pitched blip… blip… sound made my ears ring. How long are they going to reverse their car? Crowded sensations fought for dominance in my heart. As the noise grew, the tightness in my head increased. The kid didn’t seem bothered by the sound. He was smiling and skipping, just like usual.
We took a couple turns around the corner to the point I felt disoriented. I wasn’t familiar with the neighborhood though I must have walked past that place sometime. Another turn. Aren’t we going around in circles? A few more minutes of walking and I recognized where I was. I could see my place right in front of me. Fear washed over me. We crossed it without slowing down.
It had been a long day at work and in the park. Now I was growing weak from walking more. I probably didn’t eat lunch again. Another turn and we would be on the route I took to get to the park. Ming didn’t notice my heavy footsteps and kept walking peacefully, immune to the loud beeping behind us. Behind us.
Adrenaline surged as I realized the ridiculous number of turns we’d taken. I was trembling but I was already deep in this. “It cannot get worse…”, I assured myself and let out a deep sigh to see what was following us. Turning around, I saw the same two blinding orbs in my previous dream ram into me as I felt a tiny hand push me aside.
I woke up in cold sweat again, except this time, it wasn’t a dream. The activity monitor kept beeping loudly while a plethora of nurses rushed around me.
“Where’s Ming?” I screamed, looking around the room. The throbbing pain in my head flashed my eyes white.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about”, one of the nurses said, “You were alone when the accident took place”
I looked at my legs, bandaged and red. My head must have been in the same condition. My whole body, still shivering.
I didn’t know where to start. I didn’t know when it ended. I knew I met him. I knew he was real. My memories were hazy, just like the fog that surrounded the hospital building. The doctors explained what happened. I was useless to the police who were investigating the car crash. It killed the couple in the car and injured me a couple days ago. However, they were surprised I knew a kid named Ming. It was the couple’s son. Died at the exact same park a week after their move into the new house across the park. Fell from the swing and passed away from the injuries. The officers are sure to close this as a case of manic panic double suicide. Did they see him in me that day? I’ll never know.
The hospital discharged me in a week asking me to rest. I had to take a break from work. The gash on my leg helped (again). I walked all around the neighborhood disregarding the doctors. After all, I had been familiar with this pain for half a year. I recognized the buildings we walked across on our final meeting. They were real. He must have been real too. I walked towards the park for the very first time. It was real too. Bustling full of kids screaming their lungs out..
I took the notepad out of my purse, tore a paper and wrote, “Thank you for bringing me home”, and let it fly. My eyes flooded for the first time in years knowing I could never meet him again.