“Higher!” Maddy squealed as I pushed her in her favourite light green park swing.
“Hold on tight!” I ordered cheerfully, thankful to be taking in the last of the warm Indian summer days.
Maddy, adorably decked in pink overalls and glittery Barbie tennis shoes, had always been a pleasure to babysit.
“This is fun!” Maddy cried out joyfully in her cute, high-pitched voice. “Push me higher!”
I pushed her as high as I thought appropriate for a four year old girl, which wasn’t very high at all. Maddy whooped gleefully, and swung her legs back and forth in excitement.
I watched a group of pre-teen boys begin a game of pick-up basketball on the cracked and crumbling court next to the woods. I then reread the park sign for the thousandth time since coming to the park as a little girl.
ROBBERTON PARK OPEN FROM DAWN TO DUSK.
Dusk approached much faster than in the hotter months. The leaves had lost their luster and were beginning to change from various shades of green to muted yellows, burnt oranges, bright reds, and dusty purples. It was a shame that there’s only a two week window when the colours reach their beautiful peak right before falling off mid-October.
“Get me down, Emma,” Maddy commanded politely. “I don’t want to swing anymore.”
I grabbed the swing’s chains and eased Maddy to a complete stop before she jumped off.
“Ready for the slide again?” I asked playfully.
“No,” Maddy replied with frown and a tinge of regret in her small voice.
“No?” I prompted, over-animatedly feigning surprise. “Why not, Maddy?”
Maddy looked at the boys playing basketball. Looking back at Maddy, I studied her serious, far-off gaze. It was unnerving to see Maddy’s demeanor change so suddenly from joyful to dreary. Then I noticed that Maddy wasn’t looking at the boys but beyond the basketball court and into the woods.
“What are you looking at?” I inquired in a soft, crooning tone. Whatever it was, Maddy had been entranced. A few moments passed, and Maddy said nothing. I touched her shoulder, and I could feel her trembling beneath my hand.
“Maddy, what’s the matter?” I pleaded gently.
“There’s a man looking at me,” she said solemnly, her eyes still on the woods.
I didn’t see a man, only the kids laughing and shoving one another on the court.
“Hey, there’s no man looking at you,” I tried to comfort her as I removed a tennis shoe to empty the mulch that had wedged its way into my shoe. But her frightened eyes still bore into the woods. I took her cold hand in mine.
“Maddy, sweetie, there’s no one there,” I coaxed her gently.
Maddy stood silently, still clearly unsettled by what she thought she saw. Her eyes, still unwavering, became blurry with tears. I led her away by the hand toward the slide she had enjoyed just minutes before. Together, we climbed a climbing wall of mulch dust-covered, rubber black tires bound together by thick rope. I’m definitely getting too old for this, I thought, as my foot got caught in one of the smaller tires.
I let go of Maddy’s hand to support myself, but Maddy snatched it back. I tried to continue my climb using one hand while I felt Maddy’s grip become tighter and tighter.
We reached the wooden platform next to the slide and peered down the slide’s silver, metallic length swathed in mulch dust. I could see our reflection on the slide’s surface. The slide bore the same reflection as a mirror, making it impossibly hot and uncomfortable in the summer months.
“Let’s slide!” I encouraged gleefully, yet Maddy’s little fingers still gripped my hand firmly.
“I want to go home,” she said, urging me to obey her by tugging my hand and turning toward the sidewalk that led back to her house. Her eyes continued that far-away look into the same spot in the woods.
“Just one time down the slide,” I pleaded, pulling her closer toward the slide’s edge.
Every time I tried to distract her, Maddy’s eyes still wouldn’t budge from the woods. I began to think that maybe it was something that I did. No, it couldn’t be that—Maddy still held my hand in a death-grip, using me for comfort. I remembered how rabid my imagination ran as a child, chalking up this incident to nothing more than child-like imagination.
Finally, I convinced Maddy to slide down by telling her that we could leave the park sooner if we used the slide instead of climbing back down the tires. Before Maddy changed her mind, I quickly searched for the cleanest spot to slide.
The slide’s shiny reflection revealed an upside-down image of a young man wearing a dark gray T-shirt and black pants whose tall, lean body stood as straight as a rod. I couldn’t help but notice that the young man stared at me fiercely, his sharp, colourless eyes piercing me with extreme hostility. I blinked twice, unsure that I actually saw the menacing figure looking back at me. But he was there. For just a few seconds, I witnessed this unnerving image before it was gone, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. I looked in front of the slide and on both sides, but the young man had vanished instantly. There was no trace that he had ever been there.
I was brought back from the disturbing reflection by Maddy’s quiet, troubled voice. “Can we go now?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, wrapping my arms around myself to avoid the chill that now permeated the air. “Let’s go.”
By Lindsey Cox
