It is a beautiful sunny Saturday as I sit here in the park under a big willow tree. The book in my lap doesn't hold my interest, and my eyes wander everywhere but the page I am reading. Many families come to this park, and laughter and shouts can be heard from the children on the playground. There are men playing football about a hundred feet from me. Their wives/girlfriends are at a nearby picnic table chatting and sometimes laughing. Some families have taken advantage of the on-site grills and the barbecue smell is in the air. From the corner of my eye, I glimpse two children playing not far from their mother's watchful eye. I've seen them here before and they always remain in the same isolated area, never going to the playground or playing with the other children. The little boy has an old soccer ball which he tries to kick but his every attempt goes awry. Having played soccer as a teen, I decide to go over to help him out. When I get close enough to where he is playing, I notice that his facial features are flat and he has a very tiny nose. I can sense something different about him but I'm not sure what it is. I stop close to him and get down on one knee.
"Hi. My name is Beth."
He looks at me wearily then quickly glances at his mother before returning his attention to me. He doesn't say anything. The little girl playing with her raggedy doll approaches us.
"I'm Katie. I'm six. He's Nick. He's four," she says.
"Hi Katie. It's nice to meet you. Do you think Nick would like to play ball with me?"
That gets Nick's attention.
"You. Want. Play. Me?" Nick asks slowly.
"Yes but only if you want."
"Yay!" he says smiling.
I spend the next twenty minutes trying to teach him how to kick the ball so that it goes straight ahead. Every time the ball went in the wrong direction he would laugh. After a while I would laugh too and just enjoy the games we invented. It started to get late and his mother interrupted us, saying it was time for them to go. It was the first time I was able to get a good look at her. What struck me were her striking gray, yet tired, eyes. She could not have been much older than my 34 years, yet her eyes were those of someone who's seen a lot in her life. She is dressed like me in jeans and a sweater since there is a slight chill in the autumn air. Her hair is shoulder length, black and straight, where mine is long, brown and wavy. I wonder what her hair would feel like if I ran my fingers through it. She isn't wearing any makeup, not that she needs it.
She is beautiful.
She smiles warmly and mouths "Thank you". Watching her walk towards the parking lot with her kids, my mind keeps going back to her eyes and I wonder what is hidden behind them.
*****
The following Saturday I return to the park, but before I can reach my usual spot, Nick is at my side, grabbing my hand, asking me to play with him. I look in the mother's direction and she smiles at me letting me know that it is alright. Since I could use the exercise and I did enjoy it last week, I agree. Again we try to play with his ball and no matter what direction the ball goes, Nick doesn't seem to be phased by it at all. He keeps going after the ball with a smile on his face. He is improving little by little but as long as he is having fun that's all that really matters. Katie joins in and we invent some new games for the three of us. It's funny how kids can make up creative rules as they go along. After a while I tell the kids I need a break and they plead for me to stay. I promise to play some more later and that seems to satisfy them. Their mother holds up a bottle of water, inviting me over. I suddenly find myself very nervous at the idea of sitting by her with no one else between us. This is silly. She is just offering water, I shouldn't be this nervous.
"Hi Beth. You're really good with kids. Nick was talking about you all week."
"Actually I'm hardly ever around kids. I guess my inner child just wants to come out and play sometimes," I say sheepishly.
"Um. I'm sorry but I don't know your name," I say slightly embarrassed.
"It's Vicky," she says with a disarming smile.
Keeping the kids in sight, we talk while they play. At first we talk about trivial stuff like the weather. I tell her about my job as a biologist and working for a biotech company. She tells me that she is a grade school teacher and talks about how the children she teaches have changed over the years. We exchange our personal experiences of when we were in school and in no time we are laughing at each others antics.
"I had to do this oral presentation in front of a class of 30 students. I wasn't ready so I pretended to be faint and the teacher sent me to the nurse. I stayed in the nurse's office until the bell rang," she said with a devilish grin.
"And the teacher didn't know you were faking it?"
"Oh, I'm sure she did. She called on me first the next day and for every other presentation we had that semester. Not to mention all the teasing I got from all my friends," she said laughingly.
She has a wonderful laugh and I feel more at ease with her with every passing moment. I shy away from her questions about marriage and family, simply stating that I've never been married and that my family and I aren't close. I don't want to tell her that my family disowned me when they found out I was gay. I don't know how she would react to my being gay. I want to get off the subject of my family and so I ask about hers instead. She gets a faraway look and starts to tell me about Nick.
Nick has Down Syndrome. It was discovered in a test before Nick was even born. Upon hearing the news, her husband, Steve, didn't want a defective baby, as he called it, and he wanted Vicky to get an abortion. They fought a lot about it but in the end Vicky decided she couldn't do that. When Nick was born, Steve wouldn't go near him and wouldn't even look at him. Their marriage was under an enormous amount of strain and one day, upon returning from running errands, Vicky found Steve in their bedroom packing his things. He said that the situation was unbearable, that she made the choice for them not considering how he felt about it. He filed for divorce and stayed away from them, never visiting the kids, but paying child support every month. A year later, while driving drunk, Steve wrapped his car around a telephone pole and died several hours later. Steve had not stayed up to date on his life insurance premiums and coupled with the absence of child support left Vicky and the kids with very little money. She had to sell the house and they moved into an apartment complex on the east side of town, not in the safest of neighborhoods. Most of the money from the house went to Nick's medical bills. Even though Nick was fortunate enough not to be born with a heart defect, he still needed physical therapy to strengthen his muscles for basic skills like walking and talking. The amount of physical therapy decreased over the years but he still goes several times a month to get help. The rest of the money went towards rent, utilities, food and daycare. Vicky went back work as a teacher during the day. With no close living relatives, Vicky had no choice but to put the kids in daycare while she worked. As it was, she was barely making enough money to get by and the only luxury she provided her kids was Saturdays at this park here on the west side of town where they could play in a relatively safe environment.
Listening to her tell her story, I was in awe. Here is this woman telling me about her struggles, without complaints, like what she has been through is normal. I can't imagine what she goes through every day, but I can hear it in her voice, the prejudice she encounters. Leaving the park I think how my life is very different than Vicky's. I went to school on scholarships, received my degree, have had several well paying jobs, and recently bought a small bungalow in a nice neighborhood. Everything that I have ever complained about seems trivial now and pales in comparison. I feel compelled to help her in some way but I know she would never accept a handout.
*****
A week goes by and I decided that playing in the park is not a good enough luxury for the kids. Now I just need to convince Vicky of that. I get to the park early that morning and wait for Vicky and the kids to arrive. When Vicky's beat up little Civic pulls into the parking lot, I walk up to the driver's side window. Vicky rolls down the window and I lean in closer.
