A Swing in the Park

2. The Sandbox

He was hunched over in the sand, avoiding my eyes. Sweat trickled down his forehead and he kept wiping it off with his hand. I had been watching him a while from the bench, letting my bare feet dangle while I hummed a song. He was my age with blond hair and blue eyes.

He was building something. Something I could not see. His hands were working busily, filling and emptying his bucket. My curiosity was growing but I waited.

Then some adults taking walks on the pebbled path stopped to see what he was doing. Then more came and stood around him. I got up from the bench and pushed my way in between them until I stood before the box. The boy was digging a hole. It was a very deep hole.

"Are you digging to China?" A man said to the boy.

"Or Australia?" Another man said.

The boy did not look up and did not speak. He kept filling his bucket with sand from the hole and emptying it on the ledge above him.

After the adults had watched a while they got bored, so they walked away smiling and laughing with each other. Now I was the only one standing there.

"You're doing it wrong," I said.

"Do what?" He said in a gruff voice.

"Dig to the other side," I said.

"How would you know?" He said brusquely.

"You don't have to be mad," I said. "I'm only trying to help you."

"Go away," he said, emptying another bucket on the ledge. "I don't need your help."

"I can see that," I smiled. "You're almost down to China."

"And what would you know about it?" He said.

"I know where the door is", I said. "All you have to do is knock on it and they open it from the other side."

"They?" He said. "Who's they?"

"The people on the other side," I said. "They're really nice. You would like meeting them, I promise."

"Where are your parents anyway?" He said, resting from his work.

"My mom's over there," I pointed, "on that bench. Where's your mom?"

"I live in that house across the street," he said, "next to the old folks home. I come play here sometimes."

"All by yourself?" I asked.

"Yep," he said. "My mom says she can see me from the window, but I don't think she can."

"Then why does she say it?" I said.

"I dunno, "he said. "It's just something grownups do. Say, what's your name?"

"Katie," I said.

"I'm Billy," he said, "Billy Morgan."

"Well, pleased to meet you, Billy Morgan, "I smiled.

"If it's not too much trouble," he said wiping the sweat from his face, "maybe you can show me the door."

"Sure," I said and jumped into the box. "You can help me look for it."

"How?" He said.

"By knocking on the sand, "I said.

He laughed. "You don't knock on sand," he said, "you knock on wood!"

"Exactly!" I said and started knocking all around Billy's hole. He hunched down beside me on his knees, tapping his knuckle against the sand.

"I don't hear anything," he said.