Heidi received five “likes” for her Instagram picture of her niece,
Wendy, crossing her eyes and blowing out her cheeks. She was trying to take another of ducklings
following their mother in a line when she heard Wendy’s voice.
“Aunt Heidi! Look at me!”
Wendy was hanging like a wet shirt from the
monkey bars, her four-year-old muscles not developed enough to hoist her up and
move her any further.
“That’s amazing.” Heidi turned back to her phone and clicked the
picture. One of the ducklings was just
out of range so she clicked again. She
viewed her picture and was quite pleased.
It looked like a perfect picture of spring (maybe that’s what she would caption it) and so she clicked to share it.
“What should I do now?” Wendy was suddenly
at her side, her pink cheeks glowing and her pigtails fuzzy and
disheveled. “Should I swing or should I
go on the monkey-fish?”
“It’s your choice,” Heidi said, preoccupied
with cropping her picture. When she had
applied the “Rise” effect, she clicked a blue arrow on the upper right hand
corner of her phone to proceed.
“If I swing, you’ll have to push me. I don’t know how to push myself.”
“Okay, you’ll have to wait a minute.”
“Who are you texting?”
“No one.”
Heidi typed in the caption: A picture of Spring!
“Okay, I guess I’ll go on the monkey-fish.”
Heidi suddenly looked up and saw her niece,
running across the playground in her pink, corduroy pants, pigtails flapping
like crazy.
“Wait!” Heidi called, and then decided to
follow her.
She walked quickly to the
other end of the wooden playground, to the cement outcropping of two fish with
lion heads. The strange statues were
painted by local artists and welcomed creative children to the playground. Heidi remembered them as being weird, even
when she was Wendy’s age, fifteen years ago.
Wendy was already climbing on the statues,
with two other boys. The boys’ mother
was busy taking pictures of them with her phone.
“Wendy!” Heidi scolded her niece. “Don’t just run off like that! I’m trying to keep an eye on you, you know?”
Heidi heard a laugh behind her and turned
around to see an old lady in a long grey coat sitting on the park bench. She was clutching a black vinyl purse in one
hand, a red canvas leash in the other.
At the end of the leash was a Scottish terrier, who bore a striking resemblance to Toto from the Wizard of Oz.
“Are you?” the woman chuckled. Her hair was well kempt, but wiry and curled
in a way that she resembled an old movie star – waves that fell heavily against
her ears. Her face was lovely and chiseled,
but she stared at Heidi in such an intimidating way that it unnerved her.
“Excuse me?” Heidi asked her. It sounded very much like the woman was
accusing her of not keeping an eye on her niece.
The woman chuckled again to herself. “They’re like quicksilver, these kids!”
Heidi felt a strange relief, absolved from
any guilt of being neglectful. “Especially,
her,” Heidi pointed to Wendy, who had now made friends with the younger boy who
was climbing the fish. They were pretending
to be afraid of the fish eating them, and shrieked when they lost their balance
climbing up his slick back. “She’s like
lightning.”
The old woman mistook this snippet of
conversation for friendship and motioned for Heidi to sit down next to her on
the bench. Unable to think of an excuse
not to, Heidi walked over and sat down.
“It used to be that the mothers all sat
together on these benches,” the woman said.
“That’s why they were put in.”
“Hmmm.”
Heidi felt trapped in a conversation she had never intended to be in and
raised her eyebrows in feigned interest.
“That was before cell phones,” the woman’s
face turned dark and bitter, as if she were talking about memories of a
concentration camp.
“Yeah,
I guess so.”
“You guess so, I KNOW so.” The woman shook her head and pet her dog on
its head. “The change that cell phones brought
has been devastating for the park. Now the
mothers are so busy taking pictures of their children and talking on those
phones and typing…. that they never talk to each other!”
“Maybe you’re right.” Heidi couldn’t relate
even if she wanted to; she wasn’t a mother and she didn’t come to the park
often. Today was a favor to her sister
while she got her carpets cleaned.
“Look at that mother,” the old woman leaned
closer to Heidi and pointed at the boys’ mother snapping pictures with her
phone and smiling. The mother was
wearing yoga pants and Uggs and really looked cute for her age, but Heidi was
sure the old woman was about to make a different observation. “She came to the park with her children and
all she’s doing is taking pictures. The
only time she talks to them is to have them look up at her and smile.”
“Hmmm.”
Heidi wondered if the woman had noticed her snapping pictures of the ducks.
“I guess the world does need more good
pictures, but that’s why we have photographers for! What good is it to come to the park and be in
your own private world?”
This odd statement resonated with
Heidi. She looked at the woman again and
wondered how old this woman could be.
Eighty? Ninety? Why was she walking her dog by herself? Why was she waiting here on this bench?
“Do you come here often?”
“Oh, I bring Lucy out here everyday. She loves the park!” The woman smiled down at the dog, who licked
her lips. “Now she thinks I’m going to
give her a treat.” The old woman reached
into her pocket and pulled out a plastic baggie that she unwrapped slowly to
reveal a piece of cheese.
“What’s your dog’s name?” Wendy's voice broke in. Heidi jumped, surprised that her niece was suddenly there with them, panting and flushed from climbing the fish
sculptures.
“Her name is Lucy,” the old woman said as
her terrier gobbled the cheese. The
woman became animated and leaned forward, smiling at Wendy. “What is your name?”
“Wendy!”
“Wendy, like Peter’s Wendy?”
Heidi smiled, watching the exchange between
the old woman and her niece. Something
looked familiar about it; it reminded Heidi of being in kindergarten. Wendy looked confused and nodded slowly at
the woman.
“Who is Peter’s Wendy?”
“What!?” The woman exaggerated a surprised
response. She looked from Wendy to Heidi
and smiled. “Well, Peter and Wendy were two friends. It's a book -a
story of children who go on a magical journey to Neverland together. Have you not read it?”
Wendy leaned forward and glowed, waiting for the
story to come out of the woman. Heidi
felt five years old again, hanging on the woman’s every word. The
woman looked at both of them and then over her shoulder at a tall brick
building.
“Do you see that building over there? That’s the library! There are so many stories in there! Why don’t you go and see if you can find the
story of Peter and Wendy and your sister here will read it you!”
“That’s my Auntie. That’s my Auntie Heidi and she’s twenty years old and she has a boyfriend named Bobby who smokes.”
“Your Auntie Heidi can find that story if
you help her,” the woman said, tapping her index finger against Wendy’s
chest. People think the story is called
Peter Pan, but it really is called…” the
woman waited for optimum effect. Then
she whispered, “Peter and Wendy!”
Both Wendy and Heidi smiled. “Let’s go!” Wendy took off for the library,
pigtails bobbing and arms pumping.
Heidi jumped up and started to tear off
after her, before remembering the old woman.
“I’m sorry, thank you!”
The old woman was still smiling and winked
before Heidi trotted after her niece, who was trying to open the heavy door of
the library.
When
she caught up, Heidi took her niece by the hand and knelt down beside her. “If you want to go in, remember that we have
to be quiet and walk and not run. Stay
with me, okay?”
Wendy looked into her Aunt’s eyes and
nodded, sincerely.
They entered the building and the smell of
old books greeted Heidi, bringing back beautiful memories she shared here with
her own mother. Aunt and niece
approached the desk and were warmly greeted by a woman who smiled brightly, her
hair tied back and glasses hanging from a beaded chain around her neck.
“Welcome!
How can I help you?”
“Do you have a book called Peter and Wendy?”
Heidi asked.
The woman smiled to herself and began to
look in her computer.
“That’s my name!” Wendy said, a little too loud. Heidi turned to her and put her index finger
to her lips.
“That’s my name,” the girl whispered
loudly.
“Wow!” the librarian smiled brightly at the
child. “Our copy of Peter and Wendy is out right now. I can order you another copy, but it will
take a week.” The woman looked up to
Heidi, who smiled, disappointed.
“I don’t come here all that often.”
“Well,” the woman said, quietly. She leaned forward as if she were sharing a
trade secret. “Peter and Wendy is free
on kindle. It’s public domain and you
might be able to download it and start it for her.”
Wendy was panicking. “We can come back next week, can’t we, Aunt Heidi? You can climb the monkey fish with me or even
take my picture. Mommy will let you….”
“Yes,” Heidi said to both the woman and her
niece. “Please order it for me and I
will pick it up next week. Also, I will
download it and start reading it.” Wendy
was pleased and hugged her aunt’s leg.
After filling out paperwork for a new
library card and then submitting a request for the book, the librarian smiled
and thanked her.
“What a nice request! It’s been a long time since someone has
requested it by its proper title. Most
people ask for Peter Pan!”
“We were in the park and a lady actually
told us what the name of the book was.”
“Was it Mrs. Ravenwood? Did she have a little dog with her?”
“Like Toto.”
“That was Mrs. Ravenwood!” The librarian smiled. “This is the Ravenwood library. It’s named after her and her husband. They were both teachers in this area. She still walks that dog everyday and comes
in and says hi.”
“Oh.” Heidi was stunned.
As they walked home, Heidi relaxed into gentle contemplation of her
niece. She looked so much like her
sister did at that age. She made
everything wonderful; she was never bored or lonely. As
they walked down the tree-lined street, Wendy made sounds like an airplane and
held her arms out. She started to get
away from her and when she did, Heidi was quick to call her back.
“Hey, Wendy!” Heidi called to her
niece. “Why do you call that statue the
monkey fish? It has a lion’s head.”
Heidi stopped running and looked back at her Aunt. She waited for her to catch
up, then explained the mystery: “It’s not the monkey- BARS… It’s the monkey-
FISH! You can climb on it like a MONKEY,
but it’s a FISH!” The child’s hands were
open and her fingers were spread apart, implying the concept was easy to
understand.
“Oh.”
“Are you going to read about me and Peter
when we get home?”
“Yes.
You’re lying down for a nap and I’ll read it until you fall asleep.”
Wendy looked angry. “I hate naps.”
“Well…”
“How do I know you’re not taking my
picture?”
“You’ll know because I’ll be reading you
the story.”
“Oh.”
Heidi felt the child’s hand in hers and she
smiled, looking down at her. The sun
was directly above them and the light shone down on her niece’s head, making
her curls look like gold.
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