I pull up to the school. The sun is setting, filling the sky with brilliant reds, oranges and purples. I see the old cement benches underneath the oak trees where once we played. Talking, laughing and joking, never sitting. The building behind where our classroom was. We sat in groups, desks aligned to face one another. Towards the blacktop I see a new jungle gym. A gaudy colored affair, replacing those old browned metal bars with sturdy welds. Construction that seemed able to last forever – and yet didn’t.
I close my eyes. I hear the sound of children playing. Their voices calling to each other. Manic laughter. Two are off by themselves, one boy, one girl – holding hands. Taking small deliberate steps. No rush, no place else they would rather be. The boy is tall and lanky, a shaved head slightly overgrown, dark black hair. The girl tall and slender, graceful in her movements. Straight black hair falling neatly at her shoulders. They turn to look at me, both are wearing smiles, blissful and free from burden. There is no yesterday, today, or tomorrow. Only now. No concern for SATs. No college majors to declare. No jobs to worry about. No thoughts of marriage and children. Nothing. Just now. The innocence of the moment. Two children in love. First love. Content simply to be. Holding hands they smile at me as if to say, “You see, it’s okay.”
I open my eyes. All fades. The field is empty. No children playing. The boy and girl are gone. The faint sound of a pair of mourning doves in the distance. I think of the man and woman – walking through life, separate and alone, weighed down. It is dark now. I start the car and drive away. I wonder, “Are we okay?”