At The Playground

She showed up at the playground, when I first noticed her. My toddler daughter was playing on the structure with the ropes and slide and stuff right in the middle of the place and there was an older girl, probably of middle school age by the look of her; tall and thin with long dark hair running along with my daughter and playing right along, the two girls made good company together.

After a while it was time to leave. The Florida heat was pretty intense and with the clouds building up all day, it was about time for the regular afternoon monsoon. Lightning flashed high up in distant nimbus cloud columns while strapping my child into the stroller, the other little girl being nearby and helpfully gathering our playthings.

“Thanks for hanging out with Alyssa,” I started, “you are really good with little kids. What’s your name?”

“ Ronnie,” she told me as we started to walk out of the park.

“Well, Ronnie, it looks like it’s going to pour any minute. We’re heading home. Will we see you later?” I asked. Our apartment was just down the street, we’d make it in time.

“I live just down the street and around the corner with my mom,” she said. “ But she lets me do what I want in the afternoon. Can I hang with you guys?”

Fat, lazy raindrops landed with a splat here and there; I wasn’t about to argue as we neared our doorstep. As soon as we stepped inside, the heavens opened up as if a tap turned on while the cool air of the apartment instantly offered relief from the intense heat. Getting re-situated at home, with the stroller and stuff, I got a better look at our new friend. A bit of the ragamuffin, I thought, rail thin and long bony feet in her flip-flops.