Clock in, clockwork, clock out, just like any other day. What was I working on again? correcting the exec presentations? helping a teammate out with the work he “couldn’t” do? Either way, I knew I would get zero credit for it. Day in, day out, flying across the floor to get work done, sending info from one department to another, calming conflicts among teammates and getting my managers their daily coffee — none of which is my job. A suit that was a bit pale and frayed in corners no one could reach, hair put into a bun with no care and heels worn out to a point they could no longer be called heels, that has been my look for the last decade. Huhh, what can I do, I tell myself as I walk along the road I had been taking since I joined this job.
I was very excited to start working for the Big Company(TM) right out of college. My heart was racing for an entire month after being scouted by the company before I graduated. I searched every clothing store in the vicinity to find office wear that I’d need. And when I couldn’t, I spent hours on the internet finding the perfect fit. I had thrown a grand party for my friends where we were drinking all night talking about our dreams and crashed out on the park benches near the bars. They were genuinely happy for me. Those nights were the best nights of my life.
Luckily, by the time I started working, I managed to calm myself down. With my new suit on, I’d practice everyday in front of the mirror to talk and act like a professional. I tried to fake the confidence I didn’t have to fit the role. After all, I was going into consulting. It’s important to act important. And I think I did a good job at it. I was given the most important projects to work on, was working 16 hours a day and got promoted twice in three years. Monthly socials, year end parties and big bonuses were part of the game. It was hard work but it paid well and it came with the prestige no one could compete with. Most importantly, I was working on big problems with tough solutions — the work I loved doing the most. So when I got to be a manager of a huge team, I felt the trust the management placed in me to get the results. I didn’t want to disappoint them.
The first year in the new position was even more hectic. I had to transition from the previous role and learn the new rules simultaneously. I was effectively working two jobs which both demanded your all. By the time I transitioned to the new role completely, one of my team members decided to quit.
“Fresh grads these days have no will to work. It even took Susan an entire year to ramp up with your current role”, my manager sighed rolling her eyes.
“He must have had his reasons to quit. He is a hard worker”, I told her. I had worked with him for the past three years since I joined.
“You don’t have to make him look good Erica”, she raised her voice. “Your compassion is what people take advantage of. You need to be more headstrong. Anyway, start looking for the replacement. It’s going to be hard since we’re still in the middle of the school year.”
“You are going to hire a fresh grad for his position? He’s been in the industry for fifteen years now”
“Susan is as well”, she had a smile on her face but her voice was flat. “If she were capable, she could’ve done this work day one without your help. I hope you find a better recruit to fill his position”
Yeah, this was the stuff that was taught in uni. She should’ve been able to take on those projects without any help. I could. I learnt what I needed to on my own.
Within the next couple years, I couldn’t see the people I started out with anymore. I became a manager because my manager left. The average tenure on the team was 1.5 years. Looking back, there was no one on my team who joined with me. The frequent turnover meant I was constantly carrying on the work of my team, making sure the projects were delivered on time, keeping the higher ups happy and always keeping a long list of contacts to call in case someone left. A decade of doing that without a complaint. Because I could.
I started pulling on a loose thread from the sleeve of my blazer. “Do I have to buy another one? It’s not like someone’s going to notice this”, I convince myself while the sleeve lumped up on my wrist under the tension of the pulled thread. As I was straightening it out, a thick haze swept over my arms. So dense my fingers vanished into the mist. I looked around, the entire world around me vanished into the thick cloud. “It’s too soon for June Gloom”, I cry as my body grows weary in preparation for the onset of the early depression. Three months of no sun and hazy days which blend into each other — it wasn’t a summer one would be excited for. And it is two months early this time! What a luck indeed.
Every June, the visibility drops to a few meters, but at that moment, it was zero. I couldn’t see where I was. However my body kept moving on it’s own, confident in it’s ability to find home; a skill written into the bones through a decade of dragging myself back from the drudgery. As I kept walking as if in a blind dream, I heard a creak. It was far but the shrill metal made it’s way through the fog. And the more I walked, the louder the creak got. A rhythmic sound, a familiar noise. I couldn’t tell what it was but my body tensed and my jaw clenched. Slowly the gloom drifted with the ocean wind blowing it inland.
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 pity squeeze my heart.
“Come play with me”, a little voice echoed on the empty street.
I turned around. I saw the tiny eyes 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 show who’s plot I don’t remember. 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 screamed. 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 still there, it contained my everything. 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 every house in the neighborhood. Old trees house spirits of the ancestors; my mom would tell stories of fairies and gremlins that lived in these trees. I hoped one of those spirits looked after my bag from being stolen.
As the swing started moving again, my joints stiffened up. Shaking them loose, 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? I’m here to protect you, so don’t have any fear”, 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”, I tell him; it was a spiteful story against someone so young.
“Hmmmmmmmmm”, he looked at me questioningly followed by an uncomfortable silence.
I looked at the ground, a pit of sand dug through by hyperactive children. I looked at my shoes which had lost their shine. 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. Even though my heart sunk every time the swing dropped, I floated as it went back up. A while later, 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 went behind him without asking any questions. One cannot reason with kids. He pointed toward the old tree stumps of varying heights. The kid got on one of the stumps and hopped across to another one. They would be stepping stones if the playground ever filled up with water. I removed my shoes and followed his suit.
A couple minutes later, I was huffing. I hadn’t moved my body as back as my memories went. I put on the shoes on my shaky legs after losing balance multiple times. I pick my bag up and dust 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 vanished into the mist immediately and I was so tired that I didn’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. For the entire summer, the days melted into each other as the sultry sun cooked the ground. A 100% humidity forecast everyday meant the cool mist never faded. I was used to this life where your routine never changed — summer or winter, weekdays or holidays — I was living life on repeat like a hungry ghost in search of repenting. 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, ever full of energy. He was a breath of fresh air in my fogged up life. Little by little, I got to know more about him. That his name was Ming. That he was in 2nd 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 tell, 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, holding back his tears. I said something I shouldn’t have. “Why is he so attached to a tree?” 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 swings out of sync. I didn’t know how to console anyone, leave 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 screamed, 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 tells 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 thought as I walked back home. I was mentally preparing myself for another day of work I didn’t look forward to on my walk back home everyday. It felt like the same work everyday. I was a point in life where I didn’t even remember what I was working on.
The mist was slowly clearing up 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 throughout the winter that was soon to come.
Kicking the leaves around, Ming was having fun. 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 on what I was telling and told him, “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 start talking without a pause.
“You’re intelligent; you know eeeeverything”, he giggles. “I wanted to be an astronaut, but now I’m already am one because of you”, he said with a smile which had a tooth missing.
“Whatever”, I said finding it hard to accept a compliment I got after what felt like forever. “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. All I’m doing is spoiling him”, a sting of guilt hit me.
Blurred up days passed by as the leaves shed even more. The trees looked bare and naked. The songbirds’ nests were now visible, but the birds weren’t. They 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 if wonder if playing was in fact not a waste of time as I was led to believe all my life. That one should not waste their time on things that didn’t matter. Looking at him go 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 what made the pain grow.
The kid kept smiling. He must have thought it was a badge of honor for him that I was sore. He got an adult to use her muscles that hadn’t been lubricated just like the creaky ball bearings of the merry go round. Mine were probably worse because they also popped so loud he would notice them and yell “you’re so bad at this”.
A couple more months to winter. The temperatures dropped and I took out my winter coats. 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. Once I noticed that, it was a quick realization that he had been wearing the same few clothes. But since they looked clean and new, I didn’t bring 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 when 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. It looked 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.
I was in shock at the bleeding but Ming quickly reached out with his handkerchief and dabbed it clean. You should get it bandaged, he says with a smile.
The smile which I found charming every time I saw him pissed me off then. I was hurt and bleeding, my ankle was throbbing and my skirt was ripped. I always wondered how he could be so calm. This time, I was wondering why he was 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. Even with the anger born out of pain, I could keep my concern for him. I was attached to the boy by then.
He said something but I was already too far to hear it properly. He must have made a snarky comment again. 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 said to myself out loud trying to minimize the pain. I noticed my cynicism come back again the moment I left the playground. “Why does he always smile? Where are his parents? Why don’t they pick him up?”, I divert my anger back. 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 haze, 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 of I had wronged anyone for being pushed so hard when I was at the highest a swing could go. So high no one should be able to 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 plans change every night; I found myself lost again. At least I knew what the place was, I just didn’t know how I got there. Looks like I’ve always had a great affinity for mystery and a complete and utter lack of a sense of danger.
I was in the middle of the government sector, with all the administrative buildings built under 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 placed screamed 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 on my right. Maybe I had gone mad, maybe I had become crazy, but I thought it was a good idea to follow the sound. It could have been a rabbit, it could have been a coyote. I was less scared of foxes than I was of the mighty skunk. After ripping my skirt, I wasn’t letting another pair go in vain.
The rustle moved across the block, making me work hard to chase it, ignoring the pain in both legs. It was too loud for a rabbit, 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, a concise description of my courage.
I ran across the corridor guarded by huge pillars on each side. The Grotesque-Romanesque architecture didn’t go past my eyes without notice. The porous masks that hung from the pillars looked at me with an intent gaze as I went inside. The tall roof stood on the hunched arches like a tired old men reading their morning newspapers, hiding the only sliver of light that was around. I could still see a sparkling reflection at the end of the pathway which I followed without turning back. I couldn’t hear anything following me, every step ached with a sting and I didn’t know where I was going. Yet, my heart told me to run towards the courtyard pool. At the end of the path, I saw the same pillars now shrunk to cover the crystal blue with dainty arches. Floral engravings replaced unkempt expressions on the walls though I could still feel their stares on my back. They weren’t happy with an intruder in their territory. The mitt at the entrance wasn’t happy either. I should find the exit soon, I think as I dive right into the beast’s belly. I was at the end of the hallway, right at the edge of the pool that was kept pristine for the diplomats and covered by the sweat work of slaves. The only obstacle between the pool and me was a statue.
A life sized marble lady kneeling on one knee stood right in front of me. Her hands pointed towards the heaven, not to show a star or find something lost but to receive something into her palms gracefully turns upwards. I looked upwards along with her — she was clearly looking at something important. I stood in front of her, looking upwards at the full moon, blinding the night sky. The only object she could’ve been looking at was the moon itself. No, she was looking at herself.
I kept looking at the skies with her when I felt the sky melted. I wasn’t dizzy, yet I collapsed to the ground, my shaky legs unable to balance me anymore. Tenderly, the statue’s arms lifted towards the skies and she got up from the ground. I sat their looking at her as the moon dripped into her palms and down her arms. She started licking the evanescent beams on her forearm as the sky slowly lost it’s color. She took her time. Occasionally, she brushed her hair over her shoulder, which looked like liquid diamonds flowing into the courtyard pond. The pond’s glitter didn’t come from the moon in the sky, it came from the Moon who stood in front of me. Hunching over and reaching for her palms, she kept licking the glowing manna pouring from the sky. The moon lost it’s color over the next few minutes which felt like an eternity as I sat in gaping silence. Steadily, the light that poured into her throat made it’s way to the pool. The entire courtyard was lit up by iridescent sheet of rippling radiance. All I did was stand in awe of the stellar sight.
Once the sky was sucked of its shine, the very palm that wringed the vitality of the celestial lands reached out for me. She held my palm delicately, my fingers trembling like flower petals on a windy day. I clutched on to her, entwining touch like I had finally met my long lost lover. Completely in a daze, I followed her as she led me into the pool. I got into the blinding waters, one step at a time, till I could sense no more.
The pool wasn’t as deep as I thought, the waters reaching my knees. Once I got to the center of the pool, I could see more chimera figures on each corner of the pool’s surrounding arches pouring the same dazzling fluid into our pond. The water was fluid yet soft, like liquid stardust. It was cool but not as cold as the surrounding air. I wondered if this was water anymore. The glowing white liquid slowly seeped into my skin as I stood quietly hand in hand with the dame that led me here. Unspoken words between us calmed me down. Softly, she removed my blazer, loosened my hair and lowered me down. High waters reached for my ribs as strands of my long black hair danced on the snowy waves. Sitting own on the pool floor, I leaned my back against her who was on her knees behind me. She wrapped her arms around me, cupped her palms and scooped into the waters. She went ahead to pour the cool water over me — warm against the surrounding air — my skin and hair gradually glowing like hers. Mesmerized, I kept looking at my snow white fingers against the empty night.
With every splash of water, an electric quiver ran through my body. The pain seemed to flow away with the dripping water, only to return with a vengeance when she rested. She took her time — rhythmically like a ritual — to drench me in her light. Occasionally she would loosen her palms to brush through my hair, which now could not be distinguished from the surrounding water. My glowing skin mixed with the molten moonlight. Her arms around me looked like mine, mine looked like hers. Was she me? Am I her? I could barely see in the glistening glory I was surrounded by. Everything was hazy. My sight, my breath, my mind. While I was lost in thought about the overwhelming situation I was in, she stopped again. The wintry wind wandered through the courtyard adding to the pulsing sensations across my skin. I leaned further against her bosom, until my shoulders were submerged. She followed suit, placing her arms firmly on my shoulders. For the first time, I noticed her face above me, a divine beauty that reflected in my eyes. She smiled. I smiled back. Her fingers pressed into my shoulders. She plunged me into the water.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I could feel the stony strength push me me further. 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. Intoxicating sting travelled through my lungs with every involuntary gulp. The last gasp of air I held on to 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 it. I tried to work it away but I could not. Drowning is a primordial fear that changes the person forever. I was ejected out of autopilot mode I was living in for years. Every little thing startled me like a new born baby. The world looked new now that I could not tune out.
While March marched in like a lion, I started listening to the song birds twitter on my way to the office. I looked at the buds pop out of plants around my house on my way back. 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 old clothes not matter? Did my work not matter? Feeling the brand new sensations in my body, I knew the answer. I didn’t matter.
I smiled. Ming saw me and smiled back. 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. He 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 the work early that evening which was a hard ask I had to fight for. A long scar on my leg was my trump card. Usually, I started at dawn and went back home when the neighborhood was filled with the smell of fresh, warm dinner. Now that spring was here, the flowers also fought with their fragrance.
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 laugher. 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 looked back, giggled and jumped out of the swing running 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 told 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 was for the people who deserved it. My team wasn’t doing great, so 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 me turning towards me.
The message didn’t land well; I didn’t either. Shook by what he told, I lost my footing. “What are you saying?”, 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 through out my head 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 have been stained by the grass and I don’t know how to clean them. Maybe she has some tips.”
He kept looking at me from the swing as it came to a standstill. Getting down with a struggle as usual, he stepped out of the park and pointed in the direction opposite to what I always used. “This way,” he said.
I was nervous. This was the 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 much about 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 grew loud. 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 thought, preparing for the ineffable.
It was almost sun down and I was tired. I should’ve gone home but something strange took over me to ask that question. As we kept walking, a mild throbbing ache filled my head. The faint sound increased along with the throbbing in my head. My ears were ringing listening to the high-pitched blip. blip. sound. 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 also rose. The kid didn’t seem to be bothered by the sound. He was smiling and skipping, just like usual.
We took a couple turns to the point I didn’t know where I was. But I was familiar with the neighborhood. I must have walked past that place on my way home. 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.
A second rush of adrenaline as I realized how many turns we’d taken. I was trembling but I was already deep into this. “It cannot get worse…”, I assured myself and let out a deep sigh. As I turned around, I saw two blinding orbs ram into me and 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 as a plethora of nurses rushing 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 that killed two and injured me a couple days ago. However, they were surprised I knew a kid named Ming. It was their 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, including a potential third. 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. I wasn’t excited about it anymore. The gash on my leg was surely a trump card. I walked all around the neighborhood disregarding the doctors. After all, I had been familiar with this pain for over 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 I never had a reason to visit. It was real too. Bustling full of kids screaming their lungs out. Even through the morning mist, I could catch the fresh bouquet for the couple at the telephone pole across the park. I went up to the flowers but didn’t see any words. I took the notepad out of my purse, tore the paper and wrote, “Thank you for bringing me home”.