It Was Only Then
Life took you in many unexpected things.
The summer had came at last; and here I was, sitting on the swings of Lima Parks. The wind swept furiously in my blonde locks; glasses pearched on my nose. My shoes brushed against the blowing grass, and I swung myself a little bit more faster. But no matter how fast I went, or how slow I went.. it didn't matter. There was no figure to push me, there was no joy of laughter behind me. All of the happiness was in front of me, watching the other parents play with their children. And here I was, 8 year old Brittany, wishing I could have that life.
The popsicle I had in my mouth dropped tiny purple drops. It was melting, the stains going into my pink shorts. I remembered how my dad, before he passed away, would push me on the swings ever so lightly.
"Not too high, daddy"! I had laughed nervously.
"I'm trying I'm trying"! he chuckled.
"Aaaaanddd... SWING"! he exclaimed. I laughed along with him; feeling myself reach the highest of the tree-tops. My feet lifted the air, and my face collided with the fresh cool air. Then, the day was done afterwards. My daddy and I would go home, fresh smiles on our faces. Enjoyable hearts and pinkies locked; popsicles both in our mouth. "Daddy, why do you have to hold my pinky? Just hold my hand"! I told him. He looked down at me. "Is that a problem"? he said nudging me. I crossed my arms and pouted; stomping my foot. "Stop treating me like a child"! I said.
I thonked his head with the popsicle stick.
He rubbed his head and picked me up; our pinkies released.
"Because I like bonding with you", he smiled patting my head. Then, he knelt down in front of me. "You know, a pinky lock is more important than holding a hand", he told me. The sun set down a little. "Why"? I asked. He rubbed my cheek with his thumb. Some cherry ice had spilled on it. I got a smudge on my left cheek. "Because.. a pinky lock means you'll never break apart. You'll stay together; thick and thin. There are no other fingers.. just two of them together. That's you and I, honey. You're my princess.. and to put, it's a promise it'll never change", he explained.
He passed away when I was seven.
I would never allow anyone to touch my hand or pinky then. It was, as I like to call it, a promise between him and me. No one was going to replace my dad, my best friend; my loving memory at all. This pinky-promise was the only thing that reminded me of him. Every item in the household that involved my dad had been thrown out..
.. mostly because of the terrible relationship he had with my mother. But she didn't care, and I did. She couldn't care less about brain cancer, and she faked it as she cried with me during the funeral. It only pained me more. I kicked the grass softly and let the popsicle stick drop. I was standing up for the Pierce family name; and I was standing up for my best friend.
The guy who would never be replaced.
Two years passed, and I was ten.
Things drastically changed. My mother had passed away, right after a car crash. The whole family cared for some reason, as if expecting me to cry. I didn't show any remorse for my drunk, drugged, and cold-hearted mother. It was two years with me pushing her away. But I didn't care about her; all I cared about was my father was up there somewhere.
I lived with my Aunt Delilah, who was a more better person than the cold hearted warlock I lived with. She reminded me of my dad; cherry and always happy. If I wasn't too much into my own thoughts; I would have seen her as a second mother. "Do you want some orange juice"? she asked me at breakfast. She held out a glass cup. I stared at her dully and poked at my pancakes. "Yeah, I guess", I mumbled.
Deiliah put down the glass. She took the hair out of my eyes. "We should get those bangs cut, don't you think"? she smiled.
I shook my head.
".. Not even one trim"? she asked raising eyebrows.
I shook my head again.
"Well", she said as she pushed away the orange juice. "How about we go to the mall"? she offered.
"As much as this game continues Aunt Deiliah, I really just wanna go to the park", I said pushing away my pancakes. My stomach never felt hungry for some reason. She stared at me and sighed. "You've been there four times this week. How about a girls day"? she asked me. I could see how concern she was with my social life. "None of the above", I mumbled. There was silence for a second, and I stood slowly. She pulled me back down.
"Brittany, I'm not here as dust, you know", she said to me.
"I get that", I said looking away.
"I'm your Aunt. I'm pretty sure your mother wouldn't like you this way", she said softly.
I didn't say a word. I never liked to mention her anymore.
She turned my head to face her blue, piercing eyes. They were icy and locked into mine tightly. "I want you to know something. Your parents are dead. I am your legal guardian now; and if there's no progress here I might as well send you to a Foster Home. I love you a lot, Brittany. You're not here to suffer, and neither am I to watch you. So please, communicate with me here a little. I'm trying to do my job without the difficulties", she told me seriously. "Do you understand me"?
Her tone sounded serious. Not to be messed with. Maybe I was ruining things a bit here. To think, I actually made her life a little bit more harder. My aunt was a widow; her husband had been in a shooting incident in Vegas. Uncle Henry and my father were the best of brothers; he found it ridiculous for me to bond with my father differently than most daughters. He found it ridiculous when I treated him as my best friend rather than my father sometimes. But I remembered he wanted a bond like ours; for his son had never acknowledged him at all. That was my cousin, who now hardly has contact with the family. Now here is my Aunt, dying for me to be her child. To act like one and I wasn't giving her a chance at anything.
Was I causing the torture here?
"Yeah. I understand", I said. I put on my best smile for her. "Yeah", I smiled. She brushed the hair out of my eyes and smiled warmly. She grasped my hand and patted it. I twitched and slapped her hand hard. She pulled away and shoved her hand away. "I'm sorry", I said quietly. "Don't be. I understand", she said. "Besides, I don't like syrup covered fingers either", she laughed. I turned red with embarassment, and laughed along with her. "Let's have a Firefly Hunt tonight"! I said excitedly.
She grinned.
I felt a sense of happiness; loving people who could I make smile.
I looked at the setting sunset; smiling as my hair blowed in the wind.
There was a green popsicle in my mouth; already melting with joy. If my dad was here; he'd be sitting next to me.. smudging this popsicle in my face. The sticky material dripping down my cheek; but I could have cared less. I enjoyed his company, the memories flashing in my mind as my aunt sat next to me. She was probably thinking of her husband and her son as well.
"Ohio is beautiful, isn't it"? she said to me.
"Yeah. My daddy said he always imagined an Egyptian Goddess here", I said spaced out a bit.
Deiliah looked at me and chuckled.
"You have your father's qualities", she said nodding.
"Most people say that", I said proudly.
Deiliah ran a hand through her hair. "Before he died.. and before your mother was the type of woman she was.. as a brother, he would always collect popsicle sticks with me. We would have these popsicle contests", she grinned. "Whoever got the smallest would do whatever one of us commanded", she said laughing a bit. "And did my daddy win"? I asked curiously. "No. I did", she said now nudging me. I shook my head in disappointment. "You probably cheated, that's why", I smirked.
"Cheated? I was Popsicle Queen", Deiliah said puffing out her chest.
We both laughed.
"You probably would have been Popsicle Queen too, Brittany", she said grinning.
I nodded furiously. "Of course! That man had nothing against what I had! I could have collected more popsicle sticks than he did! Heck, I could cheat myself and he would always never notice", I told her. I hoped she saw me as awesomer than her now.
"Before your dad died.. he would always tell me how he wanted a son", Deiliah said.
"Yeah. He told me about that once. He would tell me he already planned a name.. Robbie", I said remembering. "Yeah, Robbie. It was either that or Robbie the Dino. I thought they were silly names. But he said that he always wanted a child. You know, as a kid he was just like me. He never had anyone besides his toys.. and that's why he was so fascinated with rubber duckies", I said looking at the clouds. "Why he loved animals so much. People thought it was crazy, Aunt Deiliah. But I thought it was interesting. He never pursed his dream because of the pressure. As a kid, he was always pushed to so many things. But now.. because of all these people that pushed him away from what he wanted.. it never got there", I said small tears forming. "But somewhere in there, I helped him. I helped him with his dream job. And he'll be the dorky guy to me".
Without a word, Aunt Deiliah hugged me into her arms. I put my hands to my sides, my pinky twitching.
I sighed over her shoulder.
Tomorrow, school would start again. Summer would be over.
She held me tighter, whispering more memories about my dad. I looked on over her shoulder; feeling the pats. I looked ahead at all the happy people in front of me, seeing laughter with fathers and mothers. I felt the burden in my chest again. For some strange reason though, it disappeared as I was distracted by a moving van and a family van following after it pass the park.