A Swing in the Park

9. The Dark Wizard

"There's something wrong with you," I told Fred as we crossed the road to the park. As soon as we were on the other side I slipped my hand free.

"I know you think that," he said. "A man cannot help but feel that. But there's nothing wrong with me, Kate. I love your mom and I am making her happy."

"Then why does she cry herself to sleep every night?" I said angrily. "And it's Katie, not Kate. At least get my name right."

"Okay," he said. "Then what is wrong with me?"

"You're the vulture circling the nests," I said, "waiting to pick out the young and take them to your lair."

"Why would I do that?" He said.

"Because you're lazy, "I said. "You don't want to raise your own."

"I think you're making that up," he said. "There are no vultures like that."

We found our way to the bench and sat down. My mother had told us to go on ahead while she made up a fresh bed for Mrs. Jacobs. Fred opened the brown paper bag and handed me a pastrami sandwich. It was on rye.

"Maybe I did make that up," I said. "But there's still something wrong. I see it when you look at me."

"How do I look at you?" He said.

"Like I'm older," I said, "like you want me to be someone else."

"It's true," he said. "You remind me of Christie. She's 18."

"Who is she?" I asked.

"She's my daughter," he said softly.

"And where is your daughter?" I said.

"She's with her mother, "he said.

"Great!" I said. "And you're with my mother."

"She won't let me see her", he said. "I haven't seen her all summer."

"I haven't seen my dad all summer," I said, "except for a few weekends here and there. I miss him terribly."

"Then you know," he said, "how terrible it is".

I bit into my sandwich and thought. Then I said: "maybe there's nothing wrong with you after all. Maybe you just have to prove yourself."

"To whom?" He said. He still had not started on his sandwich.

"To me and to Christie," I said. "If you can pass the test we'll both know you mean it".

"Mean what?" He said.

"That you love my mom and that you love Christie," I said.

"What's the test?" He said.

"First we eat our sandwiches," I said. "Then I will show you."

"You're a strange child," he said, but his voice sounded kind. He finished his sandwich in just a few bites and used a napkin to wipe his mouth and chin.

"Okay," I said, "now we are ready."

"What must I do?" He said.

"Cross the road with your eyes closed," I said, "and no peeking."

"You're crazy!" He said, giving me a puzzled look. "The lunch traffic will kill me!"

"Not if you mean it," I said. "Not if you really love my mom and your daughter. This is how we'll know."

"I can't do it," he said. "I'm not crazy."

"Then you don't love them," I said, and swung my legs back and forth.