31 MarThe Sky Was Blue; or, Stranger Danger

Note: I gave my creative writing an assignment to write about an experience in their lives in the 3rd person. This is my own attempt at the assignment.

The sky was blue, mottled with clouds. A brisk breeze blew from the north. In the city park parking lot a man a touch on the elderly side got out a blue Prius. Just as the driver was backing up to leave, the man waved his hand to stop him. He reached in the back door and pulled out a heavy winter coat, then waved the driver off. Wandering down past the pavilion, he walked across the play area with its swings and slides and chewed rubber mulch to take a seat on a metal bench to the side. Casting his eyes around the park and seeing nothing but brown, dormant grass; tall trees still devoid of leaves in the weak, March sunlight; and a rusting display of WWII antiaircraft guns, he pulled out his phone and hit Play on his Audible app. His brown eyes stared off, unseeing, into the distance as a voice began narrating chapter 24 of a book.

Movement on the far side of the park caught his eye. Six young girls came running across the lawn as quickly and lightly as gazelles. One was pushing a classic woman’s bicycle with a basket on the front. Another was riding an electric scooter that bumped and bounced across the turf. The man was immediately interested in the children. He had raised eight children of his own, three of them daughters. They were grown and gone now, but he longed for the canyon road walks holding small hands, catching boomerangs in the back field to shrieks of delight, and Sunday afternoons in the park pushing the swings of his children as they called out, “Higher! Higher!”

The girls followed each other in a line as they ran, tallest to shortest. They appeared to be in age somewhere from 11 to 4. The man watched as they parked the bike on the grass with its kickstand and gathered together as if making a plan. All together they turned and looked at the man. He hoped that they were discussing coming to talk with him to find out who he was and hear the many stories he had to tell. He knew better than that, though. He knew what they were seeing—a big, strange man wearing a heavy coat, his face partially hidden by the hood he had pulled up to keep the chilly wind off his neck. He represented “stranger danger.”

The man forced himself not to stare at them. He didn’t want to make them more uncomfortable. He looked away and concentrated on listening to his book. He smiled as he realized they probably wondered what he was doing over there sitting so still staring off into space. Maybe he was a crazy homeless man or on drugs. They would probably be disappointed if they learned that he was simply waiting for his son to return after an appointment. He had thought a sunny hour in a park would be more relaxing than an hour in a waiting room.

The man couldn’t help but notice as the girls took off as light as the wind. They ran across the lawn at an angle just to the left of him. The littlest girl grinned broadly as she enjoyed a ride on the back of the tallest girl. They congregated at the tall flagpole in the corner. The young girl and tall girl sat on the cement base of the pole while the others gathered around. It was another meeting.

Forcing his eyes away again he didn’t notice the girls until their meeting at the flagpole had ended. They were in two groups now. Two girls were headed his way, angled to keep their distance. The other four were headed back toward the bicycle and scooter. The youngest was once again enjoying a piggyback ride. He hoped that the two girls might say something to him. He was interested in what they were doing, in who they were, in how they see the world. He wasn’t completely disappointed when he heard one of the girls yelling at the larger group “I don’t want to see your stupid face! Go play somewhere else.”

Ah, a childhood argument, he thought with a smile. He remembered himself standing in a street after a failed game of 500. The game had ended early with the group of boys splitting up and casting angry names at each other like stones.

Once again he forced himself back into his book. He was a little startled a few minutes later when he became aware of one of the girls–dark hair, maybe ten-years-old–staring at him from just across the play area. He had the sense that she wanted to come over, but didn’t dare. He felt bad that the world was such a place that she was right to be so wary of him.  He was going to speak to her and ask her if he could help her in some way, but before he spoke she turned and walked away. A minute later he became aware of eyes on him again. He looked over his shoulder and saw the same girl, but with one of her friends this time, standing much nearer staring at him again. The girl studied his face.

“Don’t worry. I’m not dangerous,” the man said. Then, thinking that that was exactly what a dangerous man would say, he added, “Well, maybe I am dangerous.”

Hearing those words, and deciding that the man looked something like her grandpa, the girl walked up to the bench he was sitting on. Just as he hoped she was going to talk with him, she grabbed a jacket that laid abandoned on the other end. She smiled embarrassedly and walked back to her friend who had remained at a safe distance.

As they turned to walk away the man couldn’t resist any longer. “Are you all sisters?” he called out.

The dark-haired girl, clearly not afraid anymore, answered. “No, we’re just friends except for the little girl riding on Marci’s back—that’s her sister.” She pointed to her friend.

Who were the two girls who were yelling at you?” he asked.

“Oh, one of them was my sister,” she answered, grinning as she remembered what her sister had been yelling.

And then they were off, back to where the other girls waited by the bicycle. When they arrived, there was another discussion. And then, as if on cue, they took off like gazelles again angling out of the park, one girl pushing the bike and another riding the scooter.

In his imagination, the little girl on Marci’s back looked toward him and waved.

__________________________________________________________________________________

These books by Tory Anderson are now available on Amazon in Kindle and paperback format: