Peril in the Park: A Dad & Ollie Adventure

Dad and Ollie walk hand-in-hand through the park. It’s late winter, young buds on the trees, and snow is finished for the year. It’s the first day in weeks with sun and a comfortable temperature. For most it’s a reprieve from a season of being shut in. Others, it’s routine. 

“Why do we always come to the park on the weekends?” asks Ollie.

“Well I only get time with you on the weekends, and you like the park, the playground is great. The sun is out. You love meeting new friends.” Dad responds.

“And it’s free.” Ollie answers back.

“Well technically my taxes pay for this park but yes, there is no additional cost. Hey, look how many kids are out playing today.” The playground is crowded even for this time of year.

They approach the gate to the playground area. An older mustachioed man exits at the same time, he gives Ollie a pat on the head, and reminds Dad to keep the gate shut.

“We need to keep the Bad People out!” He says, oddly insistent. Dad politely nods and smiles.

Dad crouches to Ollie’s five year old level, and zips up his coat. An inexpensive but warm black winter coat, a popular purchase with parents this year. The only distinguishing feature is a small rip on the top of the hood, and a small tuft of stuffing poking out. He pulls the hood up around Ollie’s head and the two share a look. Ollie smiles, Dad kisses him on the cheek. 

“Okay go play Bubba, I’ll be over on the bench if you need me.” Dad says.

Ollie joins a gaggle of same size kids conquering a climbing structure. Dad sits on a bench and makes polite gestures to parents hanging out on the fringe. He takes out a book, Collateral Action. A Dad genre book series about a super-spy on the run from the organization that trained then disavowed him and a rotating malevolent villain out for world domination. The spy’s name is Lincoln Hill.  

Dad is a couple chapters into the latest Lincoln Hill book. The books always start with Hill wrapping up a mission - the mission seems innocuous until some small piece comes back in the end. He had just retaken a submarine from a gang of terrorists. Hill expertly dispatched the henchman and freed the hostages, but their Leader triggered the detonation sequence on a nuke and the sub’s engines are dead. Can Hill disarm it in time? Can he escape a sinking submarine? This is what Dad is trying to find out but is interrupted.

“Hey Daddy, Hey Daddy!” Shouts Ollie.

Fatherly instincts kick in. Dad puts the book down and runs to his son. No emergency, Ollie made it across the monkey bars. A first for him and he wants to share the moment. Dad is annoyed, but appreciates this achievement for his son.

“Good job Bubba, that is big-boy stuff.” Dad says offering his hand for a high five. Ollie excitedly reciprocates. “Ok, I’m going to go back to my book.”

Dad sits back down and finds his place again. He allows his mind to push out reality and become consumed by the world of the book. 

“Hey Daddy. Daddy!”

Ollie’s voice again shakes him back. Dad looks up. This time he’s on top of the slide.

“Hey Daddy…watch this!” Ollie goes down headfirst.

“Thats great Bubba, but I really want to read my book. Just play around with other kids.” Dad says. His familial responsibilities refuse to allow him to stay passive if his child’s in danger. But he does really want to read his book. Ollie’s five, he’s sturdy. Besides what could happen in a crowded playground in a safe town. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Ollie’s voice rings out.

“That’s great Ollie, be careful.” Dad says without lifting up his head. It’s a blanket response. Ollie will be none the wiser. 

“Daddy!” Ollie yells again.

Dad ignores this, having reached a resolution point in the underwater crisis. His ears are turned down low until Hill is able to use power from the disarmed nuke to restart the sub’s engine. 

God wouldn’t it be cool if I were Lincoln Hill? Dad thinks. Traveling around the world, getting mixed up in international conspiracies. Defeating villainous organizations using an endless set of special skills. 

He looks up from the book and scans around to put eyes on Ollie.

There are kids of every shape and size crawling over the many play areas. He doesn’t see him, but he’s sure Ollie is somewhere lost in one of the tunnels or the crows nest of the pirate ship themed slide structure. Dad searches, shouting out Ollie’s name. Every second that passes is shaped by hopefulness then despair. 

Where is he? He’s got to be here.

“OLLIE!” Dad yells at a louder pitch. He dashes around the playground. Sticking his head in and out of port holes and multi- shaped cutouts of the play areas.

Panic sets in. Dad goes to the adults. 

“Did you see my son, He’s about four feet high, he’s got a black jacket on, a small rip on the top?” Dad asks again and again. Nothing, it’s like his son was never there.

 He moves around faster, less controlled. Frantically rechecking every slide, every tunnel, around every climbing wall.  

He knows enough to not leave the playground. I tell him every time we come here. Did I say it this time? Should I have to say it every time?   

Guilt sets in, along with reality. Dad has to accept Ollie is no longer in the playground. This opens up a scary world of possibilities. His son could be gone. Dad runs through the gate and pauses a few yards in front. He looks in every direction. 

“OLLIE!” 

In the distance, movement. He fixes his eyes on it and sees a small child, dark coat, hood up, being walked by a larger adult. Dad takes off towards them. He approaches along the walking path that snakes through the park. Dad is closer, and can see the two better. 

The child could be Ollie. The adult is male, big, probably bigger than Dad. He wears a black workman’s jacket, and a black knit pulled over his head and face. He has a strong hand around the child’s shoulders and back of their neck. The child resists but he forces them along. 

Whoever this Bad Man is, has his son, and Dad needs to act. 

What would Lincoln Hill do? 

He’d get the guy off guard, take him out from behind. What could he use to hit him? 

Hill would use what’s around him. Dad looks around and finds a thick branch about the size of baseball bat. 

Dad shortens the distance between himself and them. He tactically darts from tree to tree to stay hidden. 

Was he sure about this? Is he certain that man is a kidnapper and that’s his son? He could just be another Dad with an unruly child.

Dad hears a young whimper.

“Quit your whining kid! I can’t wait to shove your crying face in that cage. You haven’t even begun to be scared.” Says Bad Man. 

Dad can’t believe it. This is a kidnapping. Dad needs to act now. 

He grips the branch tight. This is for his son, he shouldn’t have to get psyched up, but fear holds him back. In his head he hears his high school football coach. 

“Get MAD, Don’t think about it! Hit the guy!”

WHACK! 

Dad swings the branch hard into back of Bad Man’s head. He stumbles forward. The child hides behind a tree. 

Dad, branch in hand, stands at the ready. Bad Man holds his head, struggles to balance. He refocuses and lunges at Dad. Dad hesitates for half a second before swinging the branch hard at his midsection. The blow stops him, he curls inward moaning. Bad Man crumbles to his knees. Dad brings all the might with one last strike to his head. Bad Man collapses unconscious. 

Dad runs to the child. Ecstatic and full of adrenaline, Dad wraps them up in his arms, Dad notices the jacket. It’s more dark blue than black, and no rip. He pushes the child to arms length, looks at their face. 

Not Ollie. 

A young girl, full of tears, stands in shock. Dad realizes his mistake. He asks her if she’s ok. She nods and gives him a big thankful hug. Dad asks if she knows how to find her parents. She does and runs off. Dad watches her. No time to savor the moment, he still had to find Ollie.

A crackle disrupts the air. A low static voice emanates from the chest of Bad Man. Dad rolls him over, and discovers a radio inside his jacket. 

“Come back again? Do you have the child? The boss says we’re taking too long rounding up these kids. Get to the shed behind the Tennis Courts ASAP. We’re tail lights in five with or without you.” Squawks the voice from the radio. 

The tennis courts. If Ollie was taken, that’s where he’ll be. Dad only has five minutes or he may never see his son again. 

Dad rolls the kidnapper off the path and covers him with leaves. Lincoln Hill never leaves a body out in the open. It attracts attention. 

Dad grabs the radio and runs towards the tennis courts, listening as henchman are checking in. 

“I got one giant pain in the ass here. The little shit bit me but I handled him. I’ll be at you in one minute. “ An angry menacing voice comes through the radio. Before it clicks off, Dad is sure he hears Ollie’s unmistakable siren call of ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ through tears.

This energizes Dad to pick up the pace. He feels the blood charging through his veins. A parent’s unlimited power to do whatever is necessary to protect their child. 

He crests a hill, and sees commotion below just beyond the chain link of the tennis courts. Dad goes off the path and crouches behind a large rock. He takes out his phone, switches to camera and uses the zoom function to get a better look. A move that would make Lincoln Hill proud, Dad thought.

 A windowless van, back doors open. Two, no three guys stand around. One has a radio in his hand. They all carry black clubs. A Bad Guy, a Bad Ass, and a Bad Dude. They wear black jackets and knit masks covering their face, similar to Bad Man on the path. 

A fourth arrives from the opposite side. A Bad Motherfucker. He has a child in his grasp. It’s Ollie. Dad is sure of it this time.  

Bad Motherfucker hands Ollie off to Bad Ass. Ollie fights and yells, he bites down on Bad Ass’ hand. He screams and smacks Ollie on the head until he lets go. 

Dad’s blood scorches with rage. Ollie is thrown into the back of van. Only now can Dad see the van is lined with dog cages. In each, a frightened child. Ollie is shoved in one.

Bad Ass and Bad Motherfucker climb in the back. Bad Dude and Bad Guy get into the drivers and passenger door respectively. Dad needs to move, now, or lose him forever. He won’t fail him. 

The van’s engine turns over, the break lights illuminate. Dad grabs a rock the size of softball and rushes from his spot.

The van performs a three-point turn, now faces out and the direction Dad is rushing from. Bad Dude and Bad Guy don’t see Dad until the windshield shatters and a rock slams into the dividing wall separating the cab from the cargo area, knocking out Bad Dude in the process. Bad Guy leaps from the van.

 Dad doesn’t break momentum and dives at Bad Guy nearest the passenger door. He’s on top of Bad Guy wailing, unrelenting. He grabs a fallen club off the ground. One, two, three hits finish him off. Bad Guy, a motionless bloody mess. 

Dad still straddling him, takes a breath.  

Dad knows his fight isn’t over yet. He slowly approaches the back doors from the side. The doors are still shut. He can hear children crying and wailing inside. A louder adult voice shouts at them, “Shut the fuck up you brats!”

What’s the move here? Dad thinks. Open the doors and bum rush? No I need a plan

“What is fuck going on out there!” A voice says from inside the van. 

No time to think.

The back doors blast open and Bad Ass jumps out. Dad goes low and hits Bad Ass in the knee. He crumbles . Dad runs to the front of Bad Ass and cracks his nose and jaw. A slosh of blood goes flying. 

The children cheer in excitement at Dad’s rescue attempt. Ollie especially, watching his Dad be the superhero of the day.

But the day wasn’t won yet. 

Bad Motherfucker slowly and in full control, climbs out of the van.

Dad picks up a second club dropped by Bad Ass, and grips them tight. 

Shuffles back a few feet. 

Assumes an impromptu fighting stance. 

Bad Motherfucker, feet firmly on the ground, stands at least four to six inches taller than Dad, and a few wider. He stares through Dad.

Dad stares straight back, not backing down.

A stand-off.

Bad Motherfucker is true to his name. Arms like tree trunks, stretching out from a mountain. Bad Motherfucker spits, digs his toes into the ground and waves Dad in. He’s been waiting for this type of action. 

Dad goes at him fast. Rushes frontally, swinging one club high and the other low. Bad Motherfucker swipes him away. 

Dad is stunned but recovers. 

Dad goes at him again, harder and bellowing out a battle cry. 

The two are locked in combat. Dad, the aggressor. Both arms flailing. Each blow deflected by Bad Motherfucker. Swing after swing crashes into a defensive block. But Dad does not give up. He swings harder, and faster, his battle cry louder and from deeper down inside. 

Bad Motherfucker’s face turns to panic. He’s losing the momentum. Dad keeps coming. 

One gets through, it’s a shot to the face. 

It stuns Bad Motherfucker, but he comes back with his own assault.

Dad blocks what he can, but one in every three, connect. 

Dad’s rhythm is broken. The blows land more and more frequently. Finally, an over-handed fist crashes down on top of Dad’s head and he drops. 

Bad Motherfucker spits blood from his mouth, and lets out a laugh. Dad lay on the ground. Hurt, but not defeated. He looks into the back of the van and sees Ollie’s little face pressed against the cage with hope in his eyes. He has not lost faith in Dad. 

“Get up Dad, You can beat him! You’re my Dad, you’re stronger than anybody!” Ollie yells.

Ollie is right, I can beat him. Nobody is stronger than me. I’m DAD.

Dad gets up. 

Bad Motherfuckers laughter stops when a club flies through the air and shatters his nose. Blood pours out and Bad Motherfucker screams. Dad races in, winds up, and delivers a low arcing swing right between Bad Motherfucker’s legs. His bloody hands go from his face to his crotch. His knees buckle, eyes roll back, and he goes down. A final wallop to the head and Bad Motherfucker is beaten. 

Dad runs to the van, opens up Ollie’s cage, and hugs him tight. He tells him they need to move fast and open the other cages. 

Ollie jumps out of the van along with newly feed children. 

Dad is towards the front near the cab when a radio, scratches to life. 

“Hey Daddy-O, you think you’re some big hero?” The voice says. 

Dad is stunned. He looks out and sees the kids clustered together. Five new Bad People control the perimeter. A Mustachioed Man, the same man he met at the playground, holds Ollie by the back of his neck. He has a knife to his throat. 

“Who are you? Some Dad trying to play Batman? You think you can take us down!? You have no idea who you’re messing with? You’ve got to the count of three to come out or your son dies.” The Mustachioed Man says. He presses the knife into Ollie’s neck, not breaking eye contact with Dad. 

“One.”

“Daddy!” Ollie cries out. 

Dad looks for an answer nearby.

“Two”

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Ugh! Think, think…there’s got to be a way out of this. He’s got to do something, he has to save his son. 

“DADDY!”

I can’t think with all this yelling.

“DADDY!”

“Ollie I’m trying!” Dad blurts out. 

A passing parent sides eye him. 

Dad’s not locked in combat. He’s on the bench. Book in hand, finger holding his last page, still at the playground. It was all a daydream. Ollie is safe. 

“Daddy!” Ollie cries out again.

OLLIE! 

He runs and finds him stuck on top of a cannon jutting out from the pirate ship play area. Dad reaches his arm up high, and Ollie falls into them. Dad pulls him in tight.

“I got you Bubba, you’re safe, Daddy’s got you.” Dad inhales deep, clutching Ollie to his chest. He puts him down.

“What do you say, we get out of here and get cheeseburgers and ice cream.”

“Yeah!” says Ollie overjoyed with the biggest smile. 

Dad and Ollie, walk hand-in-hand out of the playground. Another parent and child enter through gate as they walk out.

“Better keep this shut.” Dad says to them “a lot of bad people out there.”