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Stray water droplets speckled the Earth as the sky wrung out the last of its tears for the day. A small boy sat on the middle swing in the playground, entirely alone in his faded yellow rain coat. No one ventured out on the gloomy, wet day and maybe – if he were lucky – the recent rain would hide the moist streaks still visible on his cheeks.
The sand crumpled begrudgingly under his feet. He sniffled softly in the relative quiet of the empty park. The light sway of damp leaves in surrounding trees covered any pitiful noise that managed to escape. His tiny fists grasped the chains of the swing so tightly his palms ached. He knew he’d have to head back home eventually, but he needed time to pass before he did. For that he relied on the stinging discomfort still fresh in his left cheek. Usually by the time the pain faded, transgressions were forgiven. Or forgotten.
When he felt the air in front of him shift, he brought his eyes up slowly. A sudden blink of light, blues and purples flickered into existence as the air crackled like static. He jerked backwards, nearly falling from the swings’ seat, but braced by his grip on the chains. In that fraction of a second, where nothing once existed, now a small girl stood. She looked out of breath, rushed or maybe panicked, her hand on her chest as her breathing came out strained.
“Oh dang, I’m so, so, so sorry I’m so late!” Her voice tumbled out hastily as a smile forced itself on, her eyes darting around the surroundings before landing on him. Her disheveled light brown hair was tied in a sloppy pony tail to the left side of her head, her swooping bangs brushed across her right eyebrow.
He gawked, eyes wide and bewildered at the sudden appearance. Magic? Was that magic? Actual, real magic? He thought, unable to tear his eyes away or even respond. She wore an oversized pink hoodie with some kind of abstract design on it, knee-length shorts, and some very old sneakers that were in the process of falling apart.
She seemed distressed despite her wide grin, eyes flicking away for a moment before returning to him, taking in his small frame – he couldn’t be older than eight, “Heh, uh, sorry. I guess I really missed a lot, huh?” She spotted his left cheekbone, skin slightly darker in the center. She winced briefly before stiffly grinning wider.
“I . . . Um . . . I think you have me confused with someone. We’ve never met.” He finally choked out meekly. Relaxing his strain against the chains, he squirmed in the swing seat uncomfortably. As the initial shock died, he just wanted to be alone again.
“Ha! I could never confuse you. This is probably weird, though. My bad.” She shifted on her feet, rubbing an arm anxiously.
“Huh? I-I’m sorry, I really don’t know you.” His stare returned to her, confused.
“Not yet!” She chirped, “I’m Chi. I want to be your friend.” Her smile eased into something warmer, more genuine.
His face scrunched, more confused, before swallowing what little hope her words sparked and forced his eyes back to the sand, “You don’t want to be my friend. I’m nobody.”
“Don’t say that.” Her voice came out harsher than intended, as if scolding him, before self-correcting, “I-I mean, you’re awesome! Just look at that fluffy red hair, it’s so cool!” She grinned gesturing to the small tuft of red peeking out from under his raincoat’s hood.
She flinched when he looked to her, eyes filled with pain and despair, even at this young age. Please, stop. His face looked so broken, tears formed and threatening to spill. She doubled down and took a more assertive stance, stretching her hand out to him, “What’s your name?”
Uncertain, scared, and still a bit confused as to why anyone would approach him, let alone want to be his friend, his voice peeped softly, “Bo.” He watched her hand as her fingers wiggled playfully.
He didn’t look like he was going to accept her offer. Come on, Bo, cut me some slack. Please.
“Want to make some mud pies, Bo?” Her grin grew as his face hesitantly lit up, flickering like a nearly spent bulb.
He looked to her, searching her face for any sign of deception, teasing, some hint that she’d tear it all away and laugh. She looked genuine. “Okay,” he finally answered, taking her hand. She pulled him up from the swing. Even as children, he stood over her by a few inches.
It wasn’t more than a few minutes of sullying their hands in the damp sand before a spark reignited in his eyes. He relaxed and chattered about making the most beautiful mud pie ever.
The rest of the world disappeared as they played. For the first time in a long, long while Chi felt at ease. The past stayed in the past, where it belonged, away from them. She relished each laugh she could get from him, each smile, each moment he enjoyed himself. His joy brought her peace, and her presence brought his joy.
A shared serenity on the outskirts of universal cruelty.