I've got my cap. I've got my suit. I've got my pride. I've got my bags. My shoes are shined. And the sun is beaming. Perfect.
I'm almost to the gate. I don't see anyone outside. I'm ready to lift the latch when a gleeful high-pitched voice came from behind and stopped me.
"Peter!" My head whips in the direction of the exclamation. I see a small girl sitting on a swing, not moving, but smiling and waving her hand madly.
"Lucy, what is it?" My bags are clutched in my hand. I finger the cool metallic latch over the gate. I need to leave.
"Would you mind giving me a push, Peter?" Her hand, previously shaking in the air, now occupied its spot on the rope expectantly. Her smile and eyes widen. I need to leave.
"Not now, Lucy." Her smile drops. "I have to go." My head turned back to the gate.
"Please, Peter?"
The voice is so much softer and smaller this time. I drop my bags. Why did I drop my bags? I need to leave.
I turn and my feet carry me to the swing.
Her face lights up, and for a moment, I'm happy I've stayed. But the sun is lower now. And I have to leave.
But I walk to the swing. I stand behind as the little girl settles into the seat and secures her grip with each hand on the ropes.
I put pressure on Lucy's back and the swing begins to sway back and forth.
It occurs to me that I haven't seen anyone else.
"Lucy." Push. "Where's Mum?"
She doesn't turn back to look at me as she replies. "She's not here."
Push. I need to leave.
"Where are Susan and Edmund?" Push.
She doesn't turn.
I need to leave.
Push.
"They aren't here either," she replies.
The sun's going down. I should leave. I watch the swing come down before I feel the cottony fabric on her dress once more. Push,
"Well, where are they?" I ask.
She giggles, but doesn't turn around. The swing comes back down. Push.
"Peter, they're dead." She giggles again.
Push.
Before I respond, she turns her head to me. Push.
"No point in joining the army now." Push. "You've already lost us." The swing goes up.
The swing comes down.
I go to push.
But Lucy is gone.