. Chapter 2:
. What's Your Name, Boy?
"Let's go to the park," my teacher says without warning. I get up and turn off the TV and put on my shoes, though I would much rather keep my shoes off and leave the TV on. Teacher always tries to do things like this with me, so I'm getting used to it. But today wasn't like that. Teacher was going across the street from the park to go get his car checked out or something like that. He just wanted to take me to the park so I would have something better to do than sit at home alone, watching TV. As if sitting alone in a park doing nothing was any better. But I guess it wasn't all bad. He bought me a popsicle, too, and even made it a green one, instead of red, though I wasn't really in the mood for a popsicle at all.
And then he was gone. He sat me out on a bench in front of the area where some children younger than me were busying themselves on the swings and jungle gym, expecting me to go play when I was finished with my green popsicle. But I didn't really want to. The place looked busy enough without me having to be there, and the monkey bars always hurt my shoulders, anyway. I sat on that bench alone, growing older as teenagers flew by on their roller blades and sometimes bicycles shooting me glances that said "we're having fun".
Then a young boy came and sat on the bench behind the one I was sitting on. He was older than me, or at least I think he was. I don't like to stare at people too long because it is rude. But he made my sitting on the bench worthwhile, as he had a radio with him. It was playing good music and it made me happy for every 5 seconds or so before it would cut out due to a bad reception.
It was probably a very old radio.
That was most likely the reason why he didn't stay long, either. There were a lot of trees here, maybe a place with not as many would've given him clearer sound, so he left. I had nothing better to do, so I decided to follow him and the music, but I couldn't since he was already gone. Older kids were always such fast walkers. I looked around with my ears, trying to find the boy and his radio. Spinning around in circles with my half-eaten popsicle until a man with a chin full of stubble came up to me looking angry, as if I'd stolen his razor.
"What's your name, boy?" he asked, his voice firm and in command.
"Honey, don't say it like that, you'll scare the poor dear!" There was a lady behind the scary man who was digging in her purse for something. She was very pretty and had hair that was long and shiny like silk or something else that was nice to touch. She leaned closer to me with a smile that made me feel better.
"What's your name, sweetie?" Her voice was soft and nice like a mother's. The kind of voice you hear saying nice things about you outside your room when you're pretending to be asleep.
"Shinji....Ikari Shinji" I felt the need to be obedient to the nice lady behind the scary man, so I told her my name. That was the name my father gave me -- I don't particularly like that name. It's no wonder I didn't answer the man when he asked me first.
"And where're your Mommy and Daddy?"
Oh, they probably thought I was lost. I probably looked the part, too. I was all alone, frantically looking around as most lost boys do. I established in my mind that they were probably nice people.
'Mommy and Daddy...' I echoed the words in my mind. "I don't know," I honestly said, as if I've seen either one in the last week or month or year.
The lady stood upright again and said quiet words to the man. "See, honey, I knew it." She turned back to me with the same smile. "Well then, where--" she was cut off when my teacher came back saying my name.
"Oh, are you this boy's father?" the lady asked my teacher, her voice not as motherly and without the smile she gave me.
"Well, no. I just take care of Shinji."
"I see," said the lady, not saying more, though it looked like she wanted to.
I threw away my popsicle before I could finish it. Then my teacher and I headed out of the park and everything was quiet. On the ride home he told me not to talk to strangers.
