The Birth Mark - NaNoWriMo 2013

Nine

© 2013 Laura Crean

The small 5 year old boy sat on the swing in the deserted park and swung backwards and forwards, pushing himself higher and higher until the breath was knocked out of him, he wished he could fly away from here, go somewhere where he wouldn’t be shouted at for being so naughty and not finishing his homework quickly enough, or not passing the tick tests that would have gotten him onto a better infant course.  Then he jumped off the swing and stumbled over to the roundabout.  If he couldn’t come to the park when other children were here to play with him (because his mother said they were too ‘Scivvy’!) then he would do whatever he wanted. 

He put one foot on the roundabout and used his other foot to spin the apparatus round faster and faster until the world around him became so blurry he became dizzy and he fell of the still spinning play equipment at speed.  He rolled across the playground and slammed into a bench, banging his head in the process, knocking himself out for a couple of seconds. 

His adopted mother was on the other side of the playground and she started running towards him screaming his name, but the young Charles Pennington the third started crying desperately for his mother, his real mother, because he knew this woman running towards him now was an imposter!  He knew she wasn’t his real Mummy, the Mummy that would kiss him and hug him and make him better.  This woman running towards him now was just going to be angry at him for dirtying and tearing his clothes and playing too rough.  Charles cried and desperately wanted his real Mummy to come and pick him up and cuddle him and tell him she loved him.

In an instant he knew something had changed.  It was warmer.  He had been wearing a jacket to keep away the autumn chill but as his eyes became less blurry he looked up and the sun was shining and the birds were tweeting and there was a woman sitting on the bench looking down at him in shock.  She looked like she had a baby in her tummy and she had been crying because her eyes were swollen, but she was so beautiful Charles thought she looked like an angel.  He looked around the park to see if she had another child that he could play with, but the park looked different somehow.  The play equipment looked newer, the paint brighter and his Mother was nowhere to be seen. 

He looked back at the woman and she smiled at him and spoke gently, much more softer than his Mother spoke,

    “Are you OK?  You have quite a bump on your head there young man.  It’s alright – don’t cry!  Come here.”  She picked him up and sat him on the bench next to her.  His sobbing calmed down a little and she asked him, “Where did you come from?  Where’s your Mummy?”  Charles started crying again and she took him in her arms and held him close until he stopped crying, whispering calm words in his ear and saying everything was going to be OK – not telling him to be quiet and stop being a baby like his Mother would have. 

    “Do you know what your address is?  Perhaps I can walk you home or help you find a policeman to help you.”

    “What’s a policeman?”  The little boy asked.  She looked confused for a moment then said,

    “You know a person that helps when people are lost or in trouble, they arrest naughty people.”

    “Do you mean a Street Guard?”  She smiled

    “Yes.  That’s what I mean.”  The little boy shrugged and said,

    “We don’t usually need them in Community One.  There aren’t really any people here who would risk readjustment.  Sometimes Sciv kids play here but my Mummy doesn’t bring me unless there are no children.  She says Skiv kids play too rough!”

The woman looked even more confused for a moment then she just nodded.

    “I see!  What is your name?”