The Greenest Eyes

It was a warm spring day when I sat on the park bench near the playground, breathing in the fresh air. After days of rain and work, I finally had the chance to just smell the roses. The weather was lovely. The flowers were blooming. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The perfect day. 

As I sat there, a couple of kids at the playground caught my eye. They stood out from the crowd because there were climbing on the railings of the structure. They seemed to be brother and sister since they shared the same brown hair. Then, the boy turned and looked at me with the greenest eyes I had ever seen. So vibrant that they glistened even from a distance. I waited, but no one stopped them from climbing all over the place. No cry arose from their parents. No protest from the other mothers and fathers. No. The children just kept climbing on the railing. I was about to object, but something stopped me. It was like I was glued to that bench. I resigned to just watching the two kids play. 

“Lovely day isn’t it,” a man asked, sliding on the bench next to me. I stared at the two kids for a second before turning to the man. I couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of him. His hair was completely white. But, it wasn’t bleached white. It was as though his man had aged a hundred years. 

“Yes, sir. It is,” I managed to reply, though I was sure my voice shook. He just smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He wore a plaid shirt and loafers. 

“There hasn’t been a spring like this in ages,” he sighed, staring off in the distance. What he saw, I had no idea, but it seemed to captivate him. 

“No, sir. There hasn’t.” He turned to me, and for a second, I swore he could see my very soul. 

“Do you come here often, miss?” I shook my head. 

“No, sir. I haven’t been to this park since I was a kid,” I answered. “I used to come here a lot with my family. My brother and I would spend hours on the playground.”

“Yet, you are alone today,” he observed. “What is a young lady like you doing alone on this fine day?”

“Just enjoying nature. As you said, there hadn’t been a spring like this in ages.” The man looked me over. 

“What is your name, young lady,” he asked. 

“Kayla. What’s yours?” He didn’t answer. Ordinarily, I would have gotten up and run, but there was something about this man. Perhaps it was the strange hair. Perhaps it was the far off look in his eyes. Or perhaps it was just the way he sat as if the world stood still for him. 

“Well, sir, what are you doing on this fine day,” I inquired. 

“Same as you. Enjoying the fresh air,” he responded. “Where is your brother now, Kayla?” I winced. 

“He’s gone. Far, far away. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was a long time ago,” I assured him. “He left when I was just a girl.”

“Sometimes your heart needs more time to accept what your mind already knows,” the man whispered, so soft I could hardly hear him. 

“What did you say, sir,” I asked, turning to him. His milky eyes met mine. 

“Nothing, my dear. Just talking to myself.” I turned my attention back to the children. Though there must have been at least a dozen kids there, those two continued climbing on the railing and top of everything. Again, there was no protest, no cry. I took a breath and stood, about to change that, but the man held me back.

“You can’t change the past, Kayla,” he said, his eyes soft. I barked a laugh. 

“What are you talking about,” I asked. “Those kids are in danger. I should help them.”

“Why are you drawn to those kids, Kayla? Ask yourself that.”

“Are you blind, old man? They’re climbing on the railing. They’re going to fall.”

“How do you know that?”

“What are you talking about? They’re not supposed to climb on the railing. They’re going to get hurt.”

“Look harder, Kayla. They aren’t the only ones,” he urged. I laughed, but when I looked back at the play structure, I saw that he was right. There were at least five other kids hanging on the metal railings. 

“All the more reason I should tell them to stop. It’s dangerous,” I argued. 

"Just sit down. They'll be fine," he assured me. I wanted to protest, but the man had already pulled me back down to the bench. "Tell me, miss. Where did your brother go?" I didn't answer. I just stared at the children, dread building up in my chest. It was dangerous. They could fall. They were just kids, and the railings were high. If they fell, they could get seriously hurt. 

"I need to do something," I muttered. 

“No, Kayla. You don’t. You just need to enjoy the day,” the man suggested, but I shook my head. 

“I need to do something,” I repeated. I was about to stand when it happened. The boy fell from the high railing and landed right on his head. The girl I thought was his sister started to scream, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. Now, the parents started to panic. 

“Call 911,” I heard someone shout as everyone crowded around the boy. I couldn’t see him, but a fall like that definitely wasn’t good. 

“I told you,” I cried, turning to the man. He reached up and brushed away the tears I hadn’t known were there. Again, he just smiled sadly. I wanted to push him away, to run to the boy, to comfort the girl, but I just sat there. 

“Tell me, Kayla. Why were you drawn to those children,” he questioned, his voice as soft as velvet. I let out a sob. “There, there, dear. You can’t change the past.” Then, the whole world faded, and I jolted awake in my bed. It was just a dream, I told myself, steadying my breath. Just a dream. Finally, I lay back down and faced the picture on my nightstand. From the frame, my brother stared at me.

With the greenest eyes I had ever seen.