Sharon’s note: I don’t usually do straight non-fiction, but this was another exercise. It was based on an article about a kid who’s dad rescued her from being stuck on a slide. Warning: This has nothing to do with the original article.
When Mom told me we were going to England to see my dying great-grandfather, I begged to stay home. Yeah, that was never going to happen. It turned out that Great-Grandpa was loaded, and she wanted to present a perfect family front to convince him to give her a bigger slice of the pie. She didn’t say that, of course, but I figured it out. I’m not stupid.
As always, Dad’s only comment was to listen to my mother.
The reality sucked even worse than I thought it would. It had been two weeks of relatives I’d never met hugging me and talking to me like we were all so close. At least my little brother was out of the way. There were plenty of other kids, just no one near my age. I was the only teenager, and the only girl. To the adults, this meant I was obligated to watch all the younger ones. That was so many levels of BS. It was unsurprising that when the whole family decided to go to a local theme park for some ‘family time’, I was informed that I would be watching a pack of ten kids while the adults took some time to relax.
I complained to Dad, but as always, his only comment was to listen to my mother.
As I sat by the waterslide, watching the little tolls go through the line again and again, I found myself thinking a lot of very unkind things. I wished that Great-Grandpa would die already so I could go home. I wished one of the kids would drown so my parents would finally realize that having me watch them was a dumb idea. I wished that the park would burn down so that I wouldn’t be stuck out in the boiling sun, my skin turning red no matter how much sunscreen I used, my ears bleeding from the hyena laughter of small humans, the smell of chlorine so strong it was stripping the hairs from my nostrils–
“What’s going on over here?” Dad’s voice jolted me out of my dark reflections. My little brother, Cole, was hanging onto his arm, glaring at me like I’d told him no about something. I hadn’t talked to the little goblin in a while, so that wasn’t it. It was only then that I recognized the sound of a child wailing, and panic clenched my stomach like a fist.
Oh, God. I hadn’t been paying attention. Had one of the kids actually drowned?
A quick scan of the area showed a girl, not one of the ones I was supposed to be watching, stuck a third of the way down the slide. It had multiple drops to make it feel like waves. The water was running a little low, and the girl was too small for her weight to move the inflatable raft down. All the other kids were milling about, complaining that the ride was closed until they got her down.
I didn’t answer my dad, because he could see the same thing I did.
“Dad, I want to slide!” My brother’s lip trembled, but my dad wasn’t paying attention. He was focused on the slide, and a condescending sneer curled his mouth. I hated that look, but this time it wasn’t directed at me.
Laughter was breaking out on the other side of the slide. A man my dad’s age was starting to climb toward the stranded girl. He grabbed the sides of the slide, even though the plastic was scorching hot. The guy made good progress, feet braced against the corners, waddling up like a frog. The girl stopped crying when he reached her at the slide’s plateau, pulled the raft forward, and slid down with her the rest of the way. There was cheering and laughing as his group, probably his family, surrounded him and applauded like he was some great hero. The little girl was smiling because her daddy loved her enough to rescue her.
“Well, now that’s cleared up, you can go take your brother on the slide.” Dad dropped his hand and turned to stomp away.
“Daddy?” My brother’s voice was whiny, and Dad turned back with an impatient frown.
“What?”
“If I was stuck like that, you would come for me too, right?”
The question hit me in the gut. I knew better than to ask it because of Dad’s disgusted face.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Look, after you take your brother on the slide, your mother said for you to round up all the other kids and get them some lunch.” My father turned his back to us again.
I snorted. “With what money?”
Cole was sniffling, but Dad didn’t notice. “I don’t know. Text her. Figure it out yourself.”
“But Dad–“
“Listen to your mother.” It was his final word, as always, and then he was gone.
I closed my eyes and bit my lip. It took me a few seconds to realize that Cole was crying too. Crap. I knelt next to him. “Don’t worry about it. He wouldn’t come for me, either.”
My little brother wrapped his arms around my neck and asked through full-out wracking sobs, “But you would, right?”
“Yeah. Of course, I would…” Now, I mentally added.
“I’d save you too.” He pulled back and gave me a sunny, snot-nosed grin.
After that day, we were a lot closer, because even if we annoyed each other, we would still come if the other needed us. It made all the difference.
Gray Matters: The Works of Sharon and James Gray 