04-21-2016, 06:59 PM
I keep coming back to this place, though I couldn't say why. I have no need of a place to frolic or kick up my heels, no real thirst to meet strangers and wade through endless uncomfortable conversation while eyes bore into me from all directions. Some children play games, chasing one another, romping and rearing and bouncing with one another, but I have never been one of them. Still, there is an inexplicable lure to the land set aside for the innocent, for those still whole enough to throw themselves into play with reckless abandon. I may not participate, but I watch from the shadows.
There is a stand of oak trees that offer just the right amount of shade so that I can stay quiet and hidden without blocking the view of the largest open area where other kids often gather and play in groups. So I have an excellent vantage point when a man arrives with a girl at his side, nudges her gently forward to go play, and then retreats to a tree quite near mine. I study him, moving nothing but my eyes, trying to determine if he's watching over her or just waiting for her to be distracted enough so that he can sneak away unnoticed. I have seen enough abandonment in my day, and I will not stand idly by while it happens again to some poor girl who doesn't know yet that not all fathers stay.
Quiet though my steps are, it doesn't take long to reach the stranger. And for once, I do not duck my head or avert my gaze. I stand tall, or as tall as I am able, and I ask him outright. “You aren't going to leave her here, are you? Because that would be cruel, waiting for her to turn her back before you sneak away without an explanation. Not that any explanation is ever good enough.” There is an unfamiliar stubborn set to my jaw, challenge in my dark brown eyes that I don't think has ever been there before. No one deserves to be left like that.
There is a stand of oak trees that offer just the right amount of shade so that I can stay quiet and hidden without blocking the view of the largest open area where other kids often gather and play in groups. So I have an excellent vantage point when a man arrives with a girl at his side, nudges her gently forward to go play, and then retreats to a tree quite near mine. I study him, moving nothing but my eyes, trying to determine if he's watching over her or just waiting for her to be distracted enough so that he can sneak away unnoticed. I have seen enough abandonment in my day, and I will not stand idly by while it happens again to some poor girl who doesn't know yet that not all fathers stay.
Quiet though my steps are, it doesn't take long to reach the stranger. And for once, I do not duck my head or avert my gaze. I stand tall, or as tall as I am able, and I ask him outright. “You aren't going to leave her here, are you? Because that would be cruel, waiting for her to turn her back before you sneak away without an explanation. Not that any explanation is ever good enough.” There is an unfamiliar stubborn set to my jaw, challenge in my dark brown eyes that I don't think has ever been there before. No one deserves to be left like that.