He squinted across the park at the vaguely familiar face of the child who was now climbing effortlessly up the slide. There was something about those deep brown eyes that he couldn't place. And the hair? He had a very faint memory of wrapping those tendrils about his wrinkled fingers.
"Mommy look! I'm coming down!" her voice sailed from the top of the slide.
He watched her as she slid to the bottom, hands outstretched as if she were a plane or a bird in flight. And there as she moved towards the bottom, she tried to stand up and in that momentarily lost her balance. His heart lurched as she nearly fell off the slide head first. When she was once again standing upright, she turned around to stare quizzically at the slide, as if wondering how could a ride so open and inviting push her off like that. She chose not to go up again and ran over to the swings.
Sitting on the wooden bench, she demanded a push from her mother who had just walked over to the canteen to get some cool juices. He looked around to see if there was anyone watching. He did not want to be mistaken as a kidnapper, or worse a pedophile. Something about the little girl was drawing him to her. No one seemed to be aware of his presence. He stuffed his newspaper under his arm, quickly walked over to the swings and gave the little girl a slight push.
"Yayeeee!" She was overjoyed. Her hair bounced as she flew forward and then gravity pulled her back down. Her movement left him surrounded in a scent of lavender and he envisioned himself planting the flower in a garden somewhere. He could not understand the signals and the tide of memories his being there in the park was causing that day. He hardly remembered anything these days. He continued to ensure her swing remained in motion until he spotted her mother returning with the juices. He turned around, pulled out the newspaper and pretended to read as he walked away.
"Hey misterrrr! Where did you goooo?" The little girl turned around on her swing, causing her swing to turn in effect. She turned clockwise and then, against her wish, counter clockwise. He kept walking without looking back, although the girl's voice tugged at his heart. He could hear her calling him back, and then the sound of quick footsteps. A hand touched him and turned him around.
"Hey, thanks for watching my girl, I think she really-" the mother stopped mid sentence when she saw his face.
"Dad?" One word.
He saw her eyes brimming with tears. The same deep brown eyes. As a reflex, his own eyes welled up.
"Susie," he said. There was no mistake.
"Daddy, its me, Sofie! Your Sofie! Oh where had you been? We'd given up looking for you! Its been eight years! I can't wait to tell mum!" Her voice grew muffled as she drew him in an embrace.
"Who is this mommy?" The girl was suddenly there by her mother's side, peeking curiously from behind her.
"This is Grandpa, Emile. Grandpa from the bedtime story I tell you? This is my dad!" Sofie explained to her daughter.
Her little eyes widened in amazement and in the next second her small arms were wrapped around his legs as if she'd known him all along.
"You found Grandpa, mommy! You found your daddy!" Her excitement was beyond measure. He looked down at her and once again wrapped his fingers around her hair. His dreams and memories made more sense now that he knew they were real. He had finally been found by his family. Emile's bedtime story was about to change.
"Mommy look! I'm coming down!" her voice sailed from the top of the slide.
He watched her as she slid to the bottom, hands outstretched as if she were a plane or a bird in flight. And there as she moved towards the bottom, she tried to stand up and in that momentarily lost her balance. His heart lurched as she nearly fell off the slide head first. When she was once again standing upright, she turned around to stare quizzically at the slide, as if wondering how could a ride so open and inviting push her off like that. She chose not to go up again and ran over to the swings.
Sitting on the wooden bench, she demanded a push from her mother who had just walked over to the canteen to get some cool juices. He looked around to see if there was anyone watching. He did not want to be mistaken as a kidnapper, or worse a pedophile. Something about the little girl was drawing him to her. No one seemed to be aware of his presence. He stuffed his newspaper under his arm, quickly walked over to the swings and gave the little girl a slight push.
"Yayeeee!" She was overjoyed. Her hair bounced as she flew forward and then gravity pulled her back down. Her movement left him surrounded in a scent of lavender and he envisioned himself planting the flower in a garden somewhere. He could not understand the signals and the tide of memories his being there in the park was causing that day. He hardly remembered anything these days. He continued to ensure her swing remained in motion until he spotted her mother returning with the juices. He turned around, pulled out the newspaper and pretended to read as he walked away.
"Hey misterrrr! Where did you goooo?" The little girl turned around on her swing, causing her swing to turn in effect. She turned clockwise and then, against her wish, counter clockwise. He kept walking without looking back, although the girl's voice tugged at his heart. He could hear her calling him back, and then the sound of quick footsteps. A hand touched him and turned him around.
"Hey, thanks for watching my girl, I think she really-" the mother stopped mid sentence when she saw his face.
"Dad?" One word.
He saw her eyes brimming with tears. The same deep brown eyes. As a reflex, his own eyes welled up.
"Susie," he said. There was no mistake.
"Daddy, its me, Sofie! Your Sofie! Oh where had you been? We'd given up looking for you! Its been eight years! I can't wait to tell mum!" Her voice grew muffled as she drew him in an embrace.
"Who is this mommy?" The girl was suddenly there by her mother's side, peeking curiously from behind her.
"This is Grandpa, Emile. Grandpa from the bedtime story I tell you? This is my dad!" Sofie explained to her daughter.
Her little eyes widened in amazement and in the next second her small arms were wrapped around his legs as if she'd known him all along.
"You found Grandpa, mommy! You found your daddy!" Her excitement was beyond measure. He looked down at her and once again wrapped his fingers around her hair. His dreams and memories made more sense now that he knew they were real. He had finally been found by his family. Emile's bedtime story was about to change.
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