Short Stories 2014

Somewhere in the Afternoon

It was the middle of the day, 12:27 to be exact, and a friend I once had sat outside a primary school smoking on the bonnet of his car. He took heavy drags but they didn't make him feel relaxed in any sense, cigarettes had never done much for him and he was not addicted. He smoked only on rare occasions and when he did it was only to remember younger times smoking under banisters sheltered from the rain with friends. Although he hadn't been at this school in particular or even this city in particular growing up, he could tell that if he had gone to this school it would have been different from what it was as he stood there now. A bell rang for lunch and the children flew from hidden doors like the bulls in Trujilo and Pamplona, different boys fled their respective herds, some kids to a jungle gym with foam floors and a tarpaulin cover that hadn't seen a drop of rain in weeks, some kids to the trees that lined the perimeter of the playing field where they'd kill each other in the shade, and others to the field itself where they might spin around in circles or play sport and crush daises underfoot. A lady younger than the man in years at least emerged out of the front entrance of the school and she gently pushed a girl along by the shoulders. The teacher was a fleshy lady and she had an slight asymmetry of the nose, but the flaws all combined well with a tender voice to make her beautiful in an attainably human way.

Hi, said the man and the little girl replied the same. He took a last drag of his cigarette and stopped the rest out on his car.

Just one of those days, he said apologising to the teacher.

Hello Mr. Banks, she replied and he replied back with her name.

The little girl moved to open the door and the man bent down to stop her, Wait a minute missy, what do we say first? And the little girl thanked her teacher.

You're more than welcome. You two have a nice day, OK Lily?

The little girl opened the door herself and hopped into her seat where she would buckle herself in as well.

Where to today? asked the teacher genuinely wanting to know.

The man thought on these words and considered all the different web of answers and he picked the one least...

I guess you could call it a family trip. Thanks, for taking care of her.

It's always a pleasure. She's a wonderful girl.

Thanks, the man replied.

And they drove away.

The wind blew the little girl's hair into her face as she watched the stone hedge and the forest behind it passing by in a blur outside the window. When an idea sprung into her mind she bit into her lip and went back to her work. She held her colouring pencil steady.

Can you slow down, please, she asked.

Sorry Lily, we're running late, the man replied.

The girl sighed loudly.

So what did Aunt Chloe have to say about this Mark Anthony?

Aunt Chloe says Mark Anthony does it because he loves me.

Well, do you think Mark Anthony is in love with you?

I don't know. But that's not the point, Christopher.

Well then what is the point, Lily?

I don't want him to take my lunch any more.

The man laughed.

Take his lunch back then?

His lunch? Dis-gusting. He likes pickles.

So I guess that makes you a pickle then?