In The Park

 Angie was positioned on the bench in the park.

She watched the double handful of gosling waddle behind their mother toward the edge of the lake. Their mother was taking them for a swim during the peaceful, early morning, to forage among the reeds for their breakfast.

Alexander, wrapped warmly in a rug sat in his pram. He chuckled. He clapped his hands. Pleasure sparkled from his bronze eyes. His eyes turned to pain when the gosling disappeared from his vision. Tears dribbled down his toffee colored cheeks. Angie leaned forward to lift Alexander from the pram to console him while she wiped away his tears.

Frank sat on the ground beneath the huge tree watching all the early morning people commune with nature. He doubled over with pain in his gut. Pain from the cancer in his body was like a tapeworm making its way through his body cells to turn his body to mush. Frank wished for the end to come. He didn't want to suffer any longer. Her tried to focus his mind to overcome the havoc the cancer had caused. Leaning back against the tree his thoughts returned to the days past when his body had been clear of pain. Free from cancer.

Not wanting to watch his father suffer another day, Kamran, armed with a battery of high powered solicitors waving writs, marched up the front stairs of the family home. A couple of policemen were with them to make sure not one of the group took the matters of law into their own hands. Frank wanted to make his father go into the hospital for treatment. He paced the porch between knocks on the door while he waited for someone to answer the door.

Trinkle, Frank's other son didn't possess a legal mind but lived by his wit. He'd advised his father to go out before the troops arrived. He knew they were coming to badger him to change his mind. With his mind on other projects, Trinkle was never sure where he should be. Or what he should be doing. He left the house not long after his father leaving Kamran to cool his heels.

Wind gushed in from the bay. The sounds like silk stockings whipped on the clothesline of a yacht. He had never been on a yacht so he didn't know how the stocking sounded blowing in the wind. But he had listened to the sales flapping when in a small sale boat.

There was silence. Then the sound raised in volume when the whining noise moved closer. Chuck revved the engine of his motor cycle to jump the gutter on the edge of the street to reach the park. He didn't know why he had picked the park to release his pent up emotions. In agony of mind at Cole's words, Chuck had to admit his friend had been right. His boss at the science lab had voiced the same opinion. The Day of Reckoning had come, which he had put into action several months ago. His boss had forced him to take a very long holiday. Everyone had warned him about burnout. He hadn't listened. He though he knew what was best for him.

Chuck didn't know his fatal decision would be like that. What had he done wrong. But that was the way his life would be from now on. The memory will stay with him forever.

The lack luster voice of dull, old Seaforth glided into their minds like a tide of slow moving molasses. There he stood on his soapbox droning about drugs, in verse. To listen to his version about love no one would want to attempt to fall in love. The world is a horrible place to live according to his expressions of love, death, and war. Everyone were sinners sucking all the energy from life. Seaforth's glazed eyes told their own story. He was stoned out of his mind taking all the color from the universe.

Everywhere was dark. Darkness. Seaforth lived in a black hole. To him, he had no option but to sink further into the stinking mire till his life ended. He would then be at peace. He would no longer have to try to surface above a dead man walking.

Angie stiffened imperceptibly at the words spoken by Seaforth. He didn't witness this because his sight didn't see much further than the end of his nose. She felt sorry for him. Angie prayed some other mother wouldn't have to listen to her son sprout words of doom in the future. Alexander, she hoped, would travel along a different path.

Lily made her way across the path. No make up. Only strong black, long lines where her eyebrows once had been. Her back ridged. Her face stern. But her body moved gracefully telling of better days. Lily's countenance cold but quietly beautiful even without her make up. She was a complicated person, always busy searching for objects to make her deserted tunnel a home. She needed money to buy food, and clothes. Lily presented more like an onion than a banana, because she wore many layers of clothes so no one would steal them. Her personality also like an onion but clammed up tight when people asked about her past.

Fin lay on the grass. He hadn't been home. His stomach rumbled to remind him he hadn't eaten since last night. While he had waited in the lounge room for Joyce-ta  a laden plate of fruit, and cheese arrived, to be placed on the table. A cup of sweet orange-colored tea had been placed before him. He set to nibbling on the food but his mind was on Joyce-ta in the shower. Finn imagined her smoothing fragrant soap over her body. Bubbles clinging to her skin. He wanted to be there with her in the shower standing under the water. His hands slipping over her curves. Thinking in this vain, Finn remembered the dark-eyed gypsies he had watched dancing around burning camp fires in Romania. His hands burned with want with the rest of his body but he's been bitterly disappointed, and frustrated, by the end of the night. She turned at her open door to shake his hand to wish him a good night.

He looked introspectively into his mind to find a reason why his night out with the luscious, hot, Joyce-ta  became a washout.

“Edward, Are you listening.” Finn grumbled to his friend who was there beside him. “What did I do wrong. She brushed me off like last weeks breadcrumbs stuck to her jumper.”

“That's women for you, my friend. I've learned to expect nothing but the unexpected. That way you don't take the refusal to heart when the door is slammed in your face.”

“I think I'll pass in the future. Women don't know what they want. They have you panting and tonguing then cut you off at the knees.”

“I watched what happened to my father,” moaned Edward. “The poor bugger. The light went out of his life when mum walked out on us. He drank whiskey day and night to try to forget. But still a hazy vision of mum floated beyond his reach.”

“How come we ended the night in the park.” Finn sat up to look around.

“I always come here when I want to fudge out. Look to see who may be worse off than me. I haven't seen the woman with the baby here before today. Wonder who she is.”

Angie had worn a dress the same color of her blue eyes. This dress reminded her of the one her father had brought her home from San Francisco. She had taken her son to visit his grandfather for the first time. Her father had disowned her when she had fallen pregnant. He refused to let either of them into his home

Bundling Alexander into the pram, Angie stood to walk out of the park. She had waited long enough for her father to change his mind.

“Angie.” Finn looked puzzled.

“Who's Angie. Where is she.” Edward searched for a beautiful young woman.

Finn stood. “Angie,” he called louder. Then he walked faster to catch up with the retreating woman. “Angie.”

Angie stopped walking believing her father had changed his mind. She looked into Finn's puzzled face.

“Finn.” She turned the pram away from Finn. She was shocked to see him. She believed she'd never see him again. Except in the features of his son.

“I thought I recognized you. Are you babysitting?”

“No. This is my full time job”

“You've become a nanny?”

“No. I've become a mother.” She swung the pram to face her son toward Finn. “Meet Alexander. Our son.”

Finn stood gasping like a fish out of water. His eyes on the son he didn't know he had.