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Timmy, the child on the moon

"Timmy, why are you here?" asked the man on the moon

"I wanted to go to the moon,"

The man smiled

"Yes, who doesn't want to go to the moon? But why did you come here? Don't you have friends down there? A mommy and daddy that'll miss you."

The boy, for the first time, took his eyes away from the floating planet and buried his head in his knees.

"They won't miss me," he said, "They don't have time for me,"

"Is that so? Why do you think that is?"

The boy didn't reply.

The man stood up and stretched the bones he didn't have. He went to the boy and ruffled his hair.

"I forget you're just a boy. C'mon now, walk with me,"

He gave the boy a hard pat on the back and started walking on the lunar path. Well, he wasn't walking per se but hopping. One hop after another after another. The boy caught up to the man, and he was smiling.

"Do you like how we walk up here?" the man asked

"YES!" the boy replied with laughter,

He jumped higher and higher, and with each hop, it was getting harder to come back. That's when the man intervened. He grabbed him by the collar and looked him in the eye. They were mid-hop. They weren't coming down.

"Don't jump too high up now, Timmy. The others out here aren't as nice as I am."

Timmy silently nodded. They didn't hop after that. The man was holding the boy's hand while they continued onward.

"Where are we going?"

"To the garden of childhood,"

"Garden off childhood?" the boy asked

"Yes. When you become a grown-up, you forget all the memories of good times and boyish fun,"

"No, I won't,"

"Yes, you will, and when you do, those memories come out here to play forever in the garden. We only have a little left to go,"

It wasn't just a little left. The boy couldn't tell time up here but knew they had been walking for a while. He opted out to take a look at the scenery, this was going to be his home after all, so might as well know the routes. The problem was he couldn't tell one hill from the other. Sure it looked beautiful and different from the ones back home, and he was on the moon, but this won't stand. The first thing he'll do after they finish with the garden is make the man draw a map for him. The man. Weird thing.

"How did you get up here, Mr. Man?" "I didn't get up here, kid; I was here all along."

"But you're a man. You must've come from down there. Had a family as I do,"

"Curious child, aren't you? And you don't have a family anymore, remember? Isn't this your home now?"

The child didn't reply.

They climbed up the last hill, and the boy could smell lilacs and hear the screams of children. The man picked him up by the waist and put him over his shoulder. Timmy could bits of the garden as they climbed up, and when they reached the top of the hill, little Timmy couldn't believe his eyes.

"There are so many children," the boy said,

"Yes, nearly all the children that ever were. Sad thing,"

"Can I please go down there, Mr. Man? Please, please?"

"No," the man said, "Not yet. You haven't eaten anything yet. I can't let you play on an empty stomach now, can I?"

He took the boy off his shoulders, sat him down on the rocky ground, then he followed.

He raised his hand and plunged it where they sat and when he drew his hand out, he had a picnic basket clenched in his first. The boy looked in wonder.

The man silently took everything out of the basket, the cloth, the food, the drinks, the sandwich bags, and orange juice, and laid them on the blanket. The boy smiled.

"Dig in," the man said, "You don't need to be shy."

One sandwich the boy devoured, then another, orange juice in the middle, then another sandwich. The man sat and looked at him with a smile, giving a helping hand when needed. The boy suddenly stopped as the man handed him another sandwich.

"What's wrong?" the man asked,

"This is the last one,"

The man turned to the bag, and in fact, it was.

"I want you to have this one. You haven't eaten anything since we met."

The man was taken back by the boy.

"Thank you," he said to him and went to eat it. It was a good sandwich. I should make some for myself one of these days, he thought, just for the hell of it.

The boy was waiting till he finished with a cup of orange juice in his hands. He offered it to him as soon as their eyes met.

"You're the nicest grown-up I met, Mr. Man. I'm glad you're the one I'm going to spend my time with up here,"

"You're still not going back?"

"No," the boy said, "It was never fun down there anyways,"

The man put his glass down and turned to look at the garden,

"You know, not all grown-ups are bad, not even the ones you think are bad. Being a grown-up is hard, Timmy. It's harder to keep your innocence as you grow up. Grown-ups forget their dreams and childhoods. It's alright, in a way. They get caught up and taken away by stress, work, and kids. Do you fault them for that?"

The boy paused before answering.

"I guess you're right. Dad did seem to be stressed when he gets home, and so does mom."

The man ruffled the boy's hair.

"But when I grow up. I'm going to be just like you, Mr. Man. I'm never going to forget who I am,"

"Now go down and play with the kids. We'll need to go back before the sun sets,"

The boy smiled at the man and hugged him tight before he started running down. The smile was something for the man. He was always grateful for those smiles. It meant he did a job well done in helping the people down there forget; that the memories got to the garden safely. Though that never made the experience less sour in his mouth.

The man got up and stretched the bones he didn't have. I should make myself a sandwich, he thought, yes, a nice sandwich will do the trick.