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Leon starred down the deep curving hole of the slide. It reminded him of his tongue after eating a cherry popsicle, long and red and curling around. He sat down on the top and scooted close to the dip.
One push, and down he went. The light from outside cast a mid glow inside the tube and went in and out as Leon turned around the looping corner. The plastic squeaked under him the whole way down until he saw the bright opening at the bottom. There was a dirt-covered matt at the bottom where sliders were supposed to land. Leon readied his legs to land feet-first on it.
His heels hit the mat—and his face hit the dirt.
Leon was only on his feet for a second before the inertia from the ride down threw his balance off, and he fell forward down into the dirt. He winced when his face met the ground and he could feel it dirty his face. He lifted himself up to a sitting position, eyes squeezed shut, and shook the bits of brown out of his pale hair.
“Pleh,” Leon spat a bit of dirt that got in his mouth. He looked over himself and felt his face looking for bruises. Well, that didn’t work, but at least he wasn’t hurt. His mom was somewhere on the other side of the playground talking to another mom-friend on the phone. She always had bandaids in her purse, but Leon wouldn’t need them. Besides, they were Elmo bandaids. He was seven and three quarters, he was too old for Sesame Street.
Before he could get up and try the slide again, somewhere out of view, Leon heard laughter, followed by a voice.
“Nice dirt in your face,” it said. “Maybe now your face will look less ugly.”
Leon glanced around in confusion until he saw them. Three older kids—at least, Leon thought they were older—circled around him at the bottom of the slide. They were bigger than him, taller than him. Leon suddenly felt small as they shadowed the overcast sky above him.
“Huh?” Leon asked.
He felt like he should have stood up, but he felt frozen under the eyes of the three other boys. One of them leaned down, licked his finger, and wiped it across Leon’s cheek. Leon winced against the feel of the other boy’s saliva.
“You totally messed up your face when you landed,” the boy taunted.
“I bet he rolled down to the bottom like a cannonball in a cannon,” one of the other boys said.
“Because he looks like a cannonball!” the third said.
The three boys all snickered. Leon felt a hot pink flush in his face. He didn’t recognize these boys from school. He wasn’t sure why they seemed to care about him at all.
“No I don’t,” he said.
“You do,” One of the boys said. He jumped his legs apart and held out his arms like he was trying to hug a tree. “I bet I could dribble you like a basketball.”
The trio burst into laughter again, making weird noises and miming dribbling a ball. Leon felt redder and more frozen where he sat.
“What’s your name?” the boy in the middle asked.
Leon didn’t want to give them his name. He didn’t want to talk to him. In school, Leon was told by teachers to ignore bullies until they went away. But that never seemed to work. They only seemed to take that as a challenge. The best he could do was give them what they wanted and hoped they went away.
“Leon,” he said.
“Wrong!” the middle boy said. He pushed a hand over Leon’s mouth. “Balls don’t talk!”
“We should push him back down the slide!” the second boy said. “I bet we could shoot him like a cannon to the parking lot!”
“Or he’ll roll away and not stop!” said the third.
The boys were falling into fits of giggles. Leon wanted to snap something back. But it was like his voice was clogged in his throat. He felt tiny and his face was hot and he felt a whimper crawling up his throat.
“Look, he’s crying!” one of the kids jeered.
Leon realized his cheeks were wet and his eyes were surging. He tried to stop but it was like his eyes had a mind of his own. All he could do was sit still on the ground blubbering through a face of tears and snot.
Please, stop, he wanted to tell them. But his words melted through his shivering sobs. All the while the kids continued to talk over each other as they leered at him. He dropped his head and tried to hide his teary face under his pale hair. All the while the others laughed and taunted and jeered.
“You three look stupid.”
Suddenly, a female voice cut through the noise and made the bullies pause. They turned to face the voice and Leon opened his watery eyes. There was a little girl standing just a few feet away from there. Short black hair, a scarf, and a dark red coat that reminded Leon of a fairy tale his mother read to him.
The girl was looking at the trio with a cold look. The kind Leon was used to seeing on grown-ups. It reminded him of a strict teacher he had last year whenever she got mad at misbehaving students. She didn’t yell. Only looked at the kids until they quieted into their chairs.
One of the bullies turned to the girl.
“Stupid is a bad word,” he said.
“Sorry,” the girl in red said. “You all look like losers.”
The leader of the group took a steely step close. He was the biggest of the three and easily towered a head over the girl in red. He pierce his eyes down at her like a rabid dog, but the girl just stared up at him.
“And you look like a face about to get smashed,” the boy said. He smiled and pointed to Leon behind him. “Is he your boyfriend?”
The other two kids made “ooohhh” sounds and Leon turned the color of a cherry. But the girl in red didn’t seem bothered by the comment. She looked at the bigger boy like he was a stain on her scarf.
Leon just stared at her. Like the bullies, the girl seemed older than him. Maybe ten or eleven. She reminded him of the big kids at his school, but he couldn’t recognize her from anywhere. The taller boy’s hands were tightly fisted at his sides.
“You’re not gonna hit a girl, are you?” one of the other bullies said to their leader.
The girl in red shook her head.
“He won’t,” she said.
The taller boy’s eyes went fiery.
“I totally would!” he hissed. “I’m not afraid to hit a girl!”
“I’m sure you’re not,” the girl in red said. Her tone reminded Leon of a grown-up’s. Calm and steady, like she was confronting a misbehaving student. “You won’t.”
“I will!” the boy sneered.
“You won’t.”
“Watch me!”
The boy swung one of his fists towards the girl’s little round face. Leon’s whole body froze and his breath hitched. But it was short lived, because the girl caught the taller boy’s fist like it was a baseball.
Then, she pushed her thumb down enough between his fingers to open his hand up. The girl held his hand with her thumb to his palm, then squeezed and gave the hand a little twist. A hitch-pitched cry rang out from the boy’s throat.
“Aaaaaaooowww!” the boy cried.
He stood there with the girl’s hand gripping his, seeming unable to pull away from her. The two other bullies watched in shock and confusion, while Leon just continued to sit still as stone.
“It hurts! It hurts!” the taller boy begged. In just a pinch, the sneering, smug boy had turned into a whimpering mess. “Stop it! Stop it!”
“I said you wouldn’t,” the girl in red said.
She twisted his wrist a little more, the boy’s red cheeks started spilling with tears. The girl leaned up to the taller boy’s face.
“Now go away,” she commanded in her little voice. “And don’t come back.”
The taller boy nodded his head and the girl released him. As soon as she did, the taller boy went running off away from the playground, crying and clutching his wrist. The girl flicked her sharp eyes to the two other kids. Their eyes widened and they immediately sprang up, running off in the opposite direction squealing like frightened mice.
Leon and the girl were the only ones left on the playground. He looked at her, slightly trembling, like a cornered deer. He couldn’t read the expression the girl was giving him, but he felt like her gaze could cut through him.
But before Leon could utter the words, “Please don’t hurt me,” the girl sighed and turned around before walking away from the playground. She was heading towards the start of the asphalt trail that looped around the park for runners and bicyclists. Leon watched her for a long moment. She wasn’t going to hurt him. She just wanted to help him.
“Hey, wait!” Leon yelped.
He stumbled to his feet and hurried after the little girl. She was starting down the path in the opposite direction of the bullies. Her scarf waved behind her like a snake on her shoulders.
Leon was huffing by the time he caught up to her. It didn’t help that she was a few inches taller than him and her longer legs made her faster. His mom said that was normal, that girls got tall before boys did sometimes.
“That was so cool,” he said. “How did you do that?”
The girl didn’t answer immediately. She kept walking ahead, eyes forward.
“My mother taught me,” she said. She curled her little fingers. “You squeeze tight enough to hurt them, not tight enough to break the bones.”
“Your mom taught you that?” Leon said.
Her words sent an excited chill through Leon. This girl was kind of scary, but not like the bullies. She was scary like a campfire ghost story. Scary in an exciting way.
“I wish my mom would teach me that stuff,” Leon said. As the two walked along, he grabbed a stick off the side of the asphalt. “She teaches me how to cook instead. Pizza, spaghetti, soup, garlic bread. She says our family is from Italy and they make the best food in the world there.”
Leon kept talking as the two walked along the path. The girl didn’t say anything and kept her eyes ahead of her.
“Do you know what a cannoli is?” Leon said. “It’s like a cookie mixed with a burrito. It’s got ice cream and chocolate chips on it—“
The girl stopped, turned to Leon, and clamped a hand over his mouth. Leon’s yapping immediately ceased.
“You talk too much,” the girl said.
Leon’s face turned bright pink and the girl removed her hand. She turned to walk away, but Leon couldn’t help himself.
“Wait a minute,” he said.
The girl stopped and turned to him. Her eyes could have frozen water and Leon felt a nervous titter in his stomach.
“Can you…teach me how to do the hand thing?” Leon asked. “So I can use it if those mean kids come back.”
The girl looked at Leon for a long moment, and for a second he thought she was considering it.
“I’m not allowed to show anyone,” she said.
Her voice was soft, just above a whisper. Leon’s stomach sank.
“Your parents don’t let you?” he said.
The girl didn’t respond. She just stared at him for a long moment. He couldn’t read her face for what she was feeling. He got a feeling she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. The two of them walked along the path further from where the playground ended.
“Whenever someone is mean to me, my mom tells me to ignore them,” Leon said. “She says small people want to make big people feel small. But every time I ignore them they just keep going. They only went away when you came.”
He gave the air a few punches.
“Maybe if I learn how to fight,” he said. “I won’t need to ignore them. I’ll scare them away and they’ll leave, like you did.”
He glanced over at the girl for her reaction. She was looking at him, but once again, he couldn’t read her reaction. She didn’t seem impressed or told him he should. Leon softened and shoved his hands into his pants pockets, eyes back to the ground.
“One day,” Leon said. “I’m gonna be someone no one will mess with. I’m gonna be bigger, and stronger, and I’ll fight anyone who tries to be mean.”
He peeked a look over at the girl. Her Mary Jane shoes crunched over the autumn leaves on the ground. She watched them as she walked,
“You don’t win a fight by being big and strong,” she said. “You win it by being smart.”
Finally, she glanced over at Leon. The girl had pretty eyes, though they were cold in a way that startled Leon a little.
“There’s always someone bigger and stronger than you,” she said. “You need to be smarter than them. You need to win without hurting them.”
The girl turned her attention back to the leaves under her shoes. Leon turned her words over in his head. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but it felt true.
“Okay then,” he said. “I’ll get smarter then too.”
At that moment, they were interrupted by a sound from a nearby bush. The two of them froze and the girl’s head snapped to the bush. There was the sound again. A soft, weak, meow.
The girl immediately walked over to the bush and dropped down to look closer. Leon hurried over next to her and squatted down to look where she was looking.
“What is it?” he asked.
The girl lifted up the short bush branches to peak through. Between the leaves and sticks, the two children spotted a feline-shaped shadow hidden underneath. The girl reached her hand out and made a clicking sound.
“Pretty kitty,” she said. “Pretty kitty, come here.”
For the first time since they met, the girl spoke in a soft tone. Leon watched as she patiently lured the cat out from the bush. It was a slinky black thing with a bit of the bush stuck in its fur. The girl pulled it into her arms and began picking the leaves and sticks out.
“No collar,” the girl said. “Must be a stray.”
Leon watched the girl pick the cat clean. It was like he was looking at a completely different person. The girl who’d been cold and mean was suddenly soft and sweet to the cat. She cradled the creature like it was her baby, brushing her fingers along its shiny fur.
“It’s a girl,” she said.
“And black,” Leon said. “I heard if a black cat crosses your path, it’s bad luck. Like breaking a mirror or spilling salt.”
This fact didn’t seem to bother the girl. She snuggled the car closer in her arms and nuzzled her face in its fur. The cat mewed and stretched but didn’t resist. Leon saw stray cats around his neighborhood sometimes, but they weren’t very nice to him. Anytime he tried to pet one, it would hiss and claw at him. But cats seemed to like the girl in red just fine.
“I like dogs more than cats,” Leon said.
The girl lifted her eyes to him. She gave him a sharp, disgruntled look that made Leon’s spine shiver.
“But I like cats too,” he quickly assured her.
He moved a little closer, the girl in red begrudgingly let her pet him. The cat’s fur was slightly wet and matted, but still soft. It purred lightly under his touch.
“Dogs are loud and annoying,” the girl said. “Cats are quiet and nicer.”
“Cats don’t seem to like people much,” Leon pointed out.
“They only don’t like people they don’t know.” The girl rubbed her fingers between the cat’s ears. “Dogs love everyone. Cats are picky.” She paused for a second. “I like cats more than people. I like animals more than people.”
“You can’t talk to cats,” Leon said.
“I don’t need to talk to them. That’s why I like them.”
The girl snuggled the cat a little closer. Leon wasn’t sure what it was, but there seemed something said about the girl in red. The way she held the cat tight, the way her eyes went a little darker.
Leon ran his hand along the cat’s long tail.
“I like this cat,” he said. “She’s nice when she lets you hold her.”
The cat's eyes fluttered shut and she purred louder. Ada looked at Leon as he gently swiped at the tail.
“I like some dogs,” she said. “The fluffy ones. Not the skinny ones.”
Leon looked at her and smiled.
“Me too,” he said.
Then, Leon saw the small sliver of a smile on the girl’s face. She had chubby cheeks and a slight gap between her teeth. He opened his mouth to ask her what her name was.
Then, the two were interrupted by a sharp, stern, male voice.
“Time’s up,” it said.
The girl flinched and glanced around. Neither of them could see who the voice belonged to. They must have been coming down the trail. For the first time since they met, Leon saw something other than detached indifference on the little girl’s face: she was scared.
“I have to go,” she said.
Before Leon could cry “Wait!” the girl was darting back towards the playground. Leon stood and watched her go, until her little red coat disappeared behind the dark green brush.
Great, he thought. My first friend and she’s gone.
Leon crunched a leaf on the ground and then started walking back towards the playground where his mother was probably waiting for him. He kicked himself for not asking more about the girl. Where she lived, what school she went to, if she wanted to be friends.
Back at the playground, the girl was gone completely. The only thing Leon noticed was a black car with tinted windows leaving the parking lot. His mother walked over to him and took his small hand in hers.
“Dinner is waiting for us at home, Leon,” she said. “We can come back to the playground next weekend.”
Leon was silent as he let his mother guide him back to the car. He stared out the window as they drove home.
I’m gonna find her one day, he thought to himself. I’ll search all over the whole planet, and I’ll find her.
~
Where have I seen her before?
Leon and Ada had been riding the NEST tram in silence for several minutes, and in the quiet, the question that had been nagging at the back of Leon’s head came crawling back.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. Ada was sitting on the bench, picking at the bleeding bandage around her thigh. Leon was almost certain he’d never met her before. He never knew anyone named Ada, and he knew no one who worked for the FBI. And yet there was this incessant gut feeling that they’d met before tonight.
He looked at her for a long moment, trying to place her. The black hair. The red clothes. The icy attitude that stung him yet drew him in.
Then, something flickered in his head. A memory he hadn’t recalled in years, not since before it was a memory.
He was eight years old. His mother had taken him to a local playground. A bunch of bullies were picking on him, and he was crying. Then a little girl in a red sweater and black hair chased them away. A little girl who seemed knowledgeable beyond her years. Secretive, hidden under her little red scarf. She was a bit mean herself, but she didn’t scare him the way the other bullies did.
Leon kept staring at Ada. She had a similar face, similar gaze, though more wearied and cold. If he looked long enough, he could see features that he could recall from below a playground slide.
It can’t be her, he thought. It can’t.
He was a kid in Washington, DC on that day. That was a long time ago in a place far away. The odds he’d find her again, here and now, seemed preposterous.
But that feeling stayed put in his gut. It wasn’t just a superficial resemblance. Something about Ada made him feel like he was small again, alone on the playground, with a mean but pretty girl making his face flush.
~
It’s not him.
Ada’s mind had to repeat that phrase to stay focused. It was frustrating enough that some police rookie had thrown a wrench in her mission. The last thing she needed was the nagging feeling that she knew him.
She felt it when she first rescued him from that infected dog. Something about saving a male from trouble gave her the weirdest sense of déjà vu. Strange, considering she was endangering men more often than she was saving them.
She remembered seeing him on the concrete ground in that parking garage. Messy blonde hair, sweaty cheeks, two (admittedly pretty) blue eyes. Looking as lost as a little kid in a supermarket.
That’s when it hit her. One of the few childhood memories her mind bothered to recollect.
She couldn’t have been older than ten. She’d been allowed to visit a local playground in Washington, DC. One of the very few times she did. It was decided that some level of socialization with her peers would be good for her developmentally. If she was going to navigate the underworld, it was smart she understood normal people first.
She’d been bored during the visit. Swings, monkey bars and slides seemed pedestrian compared to what she had seen even at a young age. She considered asking to leave until a sound caught her attention: Someone was crying.
At the bottom of the red slide, a trio of kids her age were gathered around a little boy. Chubby, blonde hair that hung in his face, a blue shirt with a yellow dog on it. His cheeks were red and puffy, wet with tears as he sobbed on the ground. The other kids were egging him on, delighting at his torment.
Even as a child, Ada had learned to suppress whatever empathy that she had for others. But she also understood that what the trio was doing was wrong. Violence and aggression needed to be strategic, calculated, serve a point. Inflicting it on someone random for no good reason was just careless and stupid. And little Ada knew that well enough that it angered her.
She scared the bullies away, and the little blonde boy followed her afterwards like the puppy on his shirt. He talked a lot and was kind of annoying, but he was the first kid her age that didn’t seem entirely afraid of her. Maybe that’s why she still remembered him all these years later.
Ada looked long and hard at Leon. He was standing at the front of the tram, staring out into the dark tunnel through the front window. He certainly was no little boy. Naive and inexperienced, definitely. But not some child. His shoulders were broad, his body strong, his stature tall.
And yet those eyes. Those damn blue eyes and squishy cheeks and soft heart. Those sent memories ricocheting through Ada’s head. How the hell could they possibly meet again after all this time?
A robotic female voice chirped from the speakers.
“This tram is bound for NEST. Do not exit until the final destination.”
Ada pushed the thoughts back down inside her. Leon wasn’t that boy. And she sure as hell wasn’t that girl. Not anymore.
But still, her mind lingered on the image. Little boy blue, little girl red. All grown up and crossing paths in Hell.
Look what happened to you poor kids, she thought.