Days Gone By

The morning sun pours down from the cloudless sky onto the town below. It's the perfect time in the morning, right as young kids are stirring up from their slumberous states and adults are beginning to need their second cup of coffee. Two single parents meet up right outside a coffee shop they both like to frequent. They would talk about getting together for a kid's playdate for ages but today is the day it finally happens. The parents, each walking hand-in-hand with a child, share the sidewalk. The parents are on the outside with their children in the middle. The children are exceedingly nervous being brought along to meet strangers who they know nothing about. The parents chat happily away as they semi-drag their children along with them to the destination of the afternoon: the town park.

The town's park is simple in design. A big jungle gym is set up in the center. Several other amenities are strewn around it in a circular design. There's a tetherball pole, a balance beam, a set of pull-up bars, a tic-tac-toe stand, and a swing set, naturally. At the outer rims of the park's design is a 2ft tall wall surrounding the perimeter of the park's play area. Scattered against the small wall were benches for parents, guardians, or tired children to sit and rest. The parents send their children on their way as they occupy one of the many benches dotted about and keep chatting away while barely missing a beat.

The children are reluctant to go at first. They're used to playing with cousins and uncles and grandparents and all other sorts of other family members. Still, the other child in front of them is unknown. The children go their ways at first, one to the pull-up bars and another to the balance beam. The children play a while by themselves before they accidentally meet at the tic-tac-toe stand. The Children stare wordlessly at one another until one cautiously turns one of the blank-facing tic-tac-toe game pieces to an X. The other child responds in kind, flipping a game piece to 'O'. The children play a complete game to a draw and stare at one another. And they laugh.

The two kids spend the rest of the day playing games and running around together in the warm afternoon sun.

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The afternoon sun beams down from the partially cloudy sky onto the town below. The perfect time of day when school-age kids are beginning to leave their places of learning and adults are still largely tied up with their jobs. The streets are as empty as they can be while the sun is still out. Two kids: a boy and a girl, are getting ready to get on their respective buses. The girl suddenly stops them both with a great idea: what if they don't get on the bus today and instead go to the park? The boy, reluctant at first, gives in to his long-time friend's demand and the two kids make their way to the exit of the school grounds.

Exiting the school ground is no easy feat. At every exit, an administrator is responsible for making sure all the kids are where they are supposed to be. There are walkers, car riders, and bus-takers and whoever was on duty has to make sure the kids aren't in the wrong area. Of course, the girl has a plan for this. When the two reach the place where car riders wait for their ride home, she screams in pain. All the attention turns toward her and the boy with her. With all the attention on him, the boy starts to sweat a little bit as he tightens his grip around his backpack straps. Almost immediately, an administrator is on the scene, asking the girl what is wrong. The girl explains that she has a bad stomach ache and wants to lay down. The administrator listens to the girl before looking over to the girl's friend. The administrator tells the boy to help the girl to the nurse's office. The boy swallows loudly and helps his friend up.

The boy nervously tells the nurse what was wrong with his friend, and he escorts her to one of the beds. The nurse tells the boy to sit down in one of the nearby chairs before checking the girl's condition. The nurse finds nothing wrong with the girl but tells her to rest while she contacts their families to make sure they know they're here. The boy and girl give the necessary information, and the nurse leaves them be. About 25 minutes pass before either makes another sound. The girl wakes up, yawns, and stretches out her arms. She gets up from the bed and takes her friend's arm in her hand. They sneak out of the nurse's office.

All car riders are gone by the time the girl and boy make it out of the nurse's office and toward the main drop-off area. The administrator in charge of watching them is also gone. The duo seized this opportunity to make it off the school grounds without anyone knowing and start their journey toward the center of town. The partially cloudy day makes the trek to the park bearable for the kids as they pass through the somewhat empty streets of their hometown. The boy constantly checks over his shoulder for someone to catch them, but the girl charges confidently forward, unabashed and unafraid.

The girl and boy make it to the park they've been going to together ever since they were much younger. The park's amenities are starting to show their age a little bit. The wall surrounding the play area is chipping paint. The bars that make up the swing set are rusting slightly. The 'X' and 'O' stickers on the tic-tac-toe game pieces are peeling at the edges and corners, but it is still the same park they love. The duo quickly runs up and starts playing in the central jungle gym. They climb up the platforms of the play equipment and make their way to the top. The girl gives the boy a knowing look before overlooking the ground from their platform and jumping down onto the floor. The girl looks up and smiles, her grin missing some teeth. The boy, hesitant, makes his flying leap from the platform. A loud CRUNCH is heard.

The two kids spent this night and many nights following this one in trouble.

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The evening sun grazes toward the town below with faint rays from the near-night sky. It's that perfect time in the evening, right as teenagers are finishing up with their after-school activities and are ready to roam the town. Two high school students, Devon and Sheila, make their way from their school's front gate and head off rapidly into the center of town. The walk to the center of town from their high school is lengthy, at around 40-45 minutes. Still, the two teenagers trek determinedly to their destination. Sheila leads the way as she talks to Devon endlessly about this or that. Devon returns her energy with soft smiles and nods of acknowledgment.

There is a coffee shop just outside of the park they've gone to since they were children. Ever since they entered high school, their tradition is to go to the coffee shop to pick up each drink of their choice: plain, black coffee for Sheila and an iced coffee with lots of cream and sugar for Devon. Sheila would often tease Devon for his sweet tooth, and Devon would jab back that he likes to enjoy things that don't taste like liquified dirt. Every day after school, they would share this exchange, and every day they would laugh.

Once they had acquired their drink of the day, the two would head over to the park. The park has seen better days. The most recent addition to the park was the new rubber turf around all the play equipment. A collective uproar of parents complained about it to the city, which quickly gave in. Everything else was starting to see a fair share of wear and tear. The duo makes a quick break for the swing set, one of the more worn pieces of equipment. There is something timeless about a good swing. A good swing always feels good, no matter how old or young somebody is. Sheila and Devon would swing lightly for 15, 30, 45 minutes - sometimes over an hour and they would just talk. Sometimes their talks were meaningless. Sometimes their conversations were silly. Sometimes, even still, their discussions were deep. Today is a profound day.

As high school seniors, Devon and Sheila had a lot of decisions they needed to start making. They had to decide on whether they would go to college or not. What kind of job they would aim for in the future. What the future even meant for them at that point. Sheila would always wear a bright smile as she described all her big hopes and dreams for the future, but every time they would talk about it would be something different. Devon always seemed more unsure. His mind never seemed to drift toward any one thing. Sheila wanted to do it all, and Devon just wanted to find one thing to do well at.

No matter how serious the conversation became, Sheila would always eventually end their serious conversations abruptly in one of many ways. A swinging contest, impromptu tag, reminding Devon of embarrassing situations he found himself in - nothing was off-limits. Today is a swinging contest sort of day. Sheila raised the stakes of the contest, saying the loser had to tell the winner a secret. Devon didn't think they had too many secrets, having known each other for so long.

The two swing with all of their hearts. Sheila easily built up speed while swinging back and forth quickly. Like a cannonball, she flew from her swing and landed a good 12 feet away with a perfect crouch to absorb the shock at the end. Devon's broad build makes it hard for him to build up momentum, but when he feels like he built up enough, he goes to launch himself from the swing, only to hesitate at the last moment, causing him to land a mere 9 feet away losing to Sheila by a significant margin. Devon lands flatly on his body and slams down onto the ground. Sheila is there in a second, offering him a hand up. Devon reaches up to take it, a scar he'd gotten from a similar incident halfway showing out of his sleeve.

The boy wanted to make a case for foul play since the girl was very familiar with his injury, but in the end, he agreed to the contest, knowing what it would entail. Sheila demands her prize for winning, and the boy admits he's out of secrets. The girl sighs. Her expression is colder than Devon has ever seen before. Sheila snaps to attention before putting an arm on Devon's shoulder. The look on her face is smug, her mouth curled at one corner, a single eyebrow raised. Devon rolled his eyes before moving to grab his stuff. Sheila followed right behind him to do the same. The two made their way home. The moon stands tall in the sky, and the sunlight is gone. Street lamps along the road provide only a little illumination. Once they made it to the split-off point of their journey, Sheila and Devon hugged each other goodbye like they always did. An unspoken act that always said, 'see you tomorrow.'

But tomorrow doesn't come.

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Devon Johnson's alarm rang out into the stagnant morning air of his dorm room. The young man rubbed the sleep from his eyes for a second before absentmindedly reaching for his phone sounding off. He slumps himself up from his bed and sits up. Like most mornings, Devon's roommate is already up and exercising as a part of their regimen for the track team. The young man slips out from under his sheet near-naked in his gray boxer-briefs, stands, and stretches widely in the middle of the room. A closer examination of his phone leads him to see the date: March 21st. Devon breathes in and sighs deeply with a frown.

The young man heads to the shared dormitory bathroom and does his best to get his day set as right as possible. He goes through his morning ritual: Brushing, mouthwash, shower, lotion on the ashy elbows, but skips doing much with his hair. The weather app on his phone said it would be rainy today, so he will probably just wear a hat anyway. Devon gets back to his dorm. Dresses in his comfy sweats and a light, wind-breaker jacket before scritching down a note for his roommate and grabbing an umbrella.

The morning sun is completely obscured by thick, dark-gray rain clouds, and not a single beam of light can even be seen behind them. The rainy weather keeps the street pretty empty as no one wants to willingly drive out in this hard-hitting storm. Devon sits silently on the bus and, after about 35-40 minutes of riding, can finally get off at his destination. His hometown's downtown is home to many small shops and public amenities. Devon makes his way to Grounds for Taste, a local coffee shop. He orders an Iced coffee with lots of sugar and cream and one plain, black coffee. He asks to include a special message on the second drink. Devon then walks out of the shop to his next destination.

The Sheila Loftwood Memorial Park was a simple little park just across Grounds. The name of the park was relatively new. With the new name, all the equipment was either exchanged for new stuff or repainted if it was in working order. They changed the old, dull gray rubber turf for the new multi-colored variety. The park feels extremely vibrant and happy even while the rain drowns it. Devon takes the two drinks and sits on one of the swings. He then takes the plain black coffee with the words' Happy Birthday' written on it and places it gently on the empty swing next to him. He takes his drink and starts swaying gently back and forth as he sips. The rain comes down a little harder, pounding down onto the ground below. Devon keeps sitting and sipping with the other cup stationed in the swing next to him.

Tears stream down his face, obscured by the rain.

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Devon Johnson rubs his hands together as he sits in his slightly uncomfortable office chair. The building he works in is kept cold, and the afternoon sun shines brightly through his office window, providing him some relief from the cold. Devon notices his dark-brown hands are looking a little dried out and reaches over to squirt some lotion on them. He then tries to block the cold out and finish typing in this last assessment before his next appointment gets here. The one thing about his current work is that the work always keeps coming, which means Devon is always behind, but he wouldn't trade what he's doing for anything in the world.

Suddenly, his cell phone rings. Devon stops typing and answers.

"Devon Johnson speaking."

The other line speaks.

"Really?"

The other line responds.

"That's wonderful! It'll be good to have them home. Thank you for calling."

Devon hangs up the phone. A smile spreads over his face. He swivels his chair and [icks up a framed photo off of his desk. The frame is a custom that reads 'Mom, Dad, and baby Sheila.'. His eyes squint a little bit more, deepening his smile as he stares lovingly at the picture of his family. A knock on the door shakes him out of his stupor, and he walks up to open the door and on the other side is a happy-looking teenage girl. Devon welcomes her into this office and closes the door behind them. The door plate reads:

School Psychologist

Devon Johnson