That Night

Claire Nelson stood, waiting, on the edge of the mulch filled box; a few pieces fell onto her tattered white tennis shoes as she pressed her toes onto the side of the rotting, wooden edge. From the looks of it, this place hadn’t been touched since she’d last been here, almost 10 years ago to the day. The once proud and shining metal frame was now coated in rust, no glint of light echoed off the loaming poles, even on a night like this, the moon nearly full and no cloud in sight. The thick chains attaching the swings to the structure carried the rust downwards, stopping at the worn through leather seats. One of the two swings swayed in the gentle, crisp, breeze; a small squeak emitting from the hinges connecting the chains to the poles as it reached the top of its range and fell back down. The other hung firm, weighed down by the stoic person occupying it. 

The two girls simply stared at each other. Claire's was a look of disbelief and mild shock, the other girl’s was a knowing stare, and something Claire couldn’t quite place - like resentment,  but with a twinge of longing. 

“What are you doing here?” Claire managed to get out, her firm voice not reflecting the inter turmoil she was feeling at the moment. 

“Waiting for you, apparently” the girl replied curtly. 

It had been 10 years since the girls had last seen each other. The pair had, at one time, been inseparable. From the moment Claire had moved next door in the second grade, the two spent nearly every waking moment together. In a town as small as theirs, it was hard to find something to do everyday. So when the Mayor was finally convinced to put in a swing set, barely a five minute bike ride from their adjoining houses, the girls made it their place. They came here nearly every day after school, riding their bikes in a frenzy out the school yard, and swung and talked till the sun fell behind the ebbing surface of the nearby pond. 

“Are you gonna keep standing there and gawking at me, or are you gonna sit down?” the girl threw at her with piercing sharpness. 

Claire took a tentative step, the brittle mulch crunching beneath her shoe. She took another, more confident step towards the empty swing. Within a few more strides Claire found herself turning to sit down onto the familiar leather seat. As they sat in the same exact swings that they had seen each other last, it was like those 10 years in between were nothing but a mere facade. Looking at the girl's face, Claire almost believed that they were just that. 

She was remarkably unchanged. Her short black hair moved slightly along with the chill breeze, in stark contrast to Claire’s curly, pale blonde hair. The girl’s face was devoid of any sort of lines, but it was the emotion behind it that gave away her age. The sort of emotionless emotion that could only be found on those who had lived to see the consequences of their adolescence. Not that they had changed at all, but the curve of her mouth no longer ran effortlessly upwards. Her eyes, which followed her lips downwards, no longer held that once ever present mischievous glint of curiosity. Though, Claire supposed, those changes had occurred long before that night. The girl turned her head and looked Claire over, as well. 

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost” the girl chuckled darkly. “Bet you never thought you’d see me again, much less here”. 

“Can you blame me?” Claire let out softly. “This is the first time I’ve come back here after-” she paused cautiously “-after that night, and you’re sitting here, waiting for me”. 

“I know” was all the girl said in response. 

“You know what?” Claire pressed. 

“I know this is the first time you’ve been back here” the girl let out, almost agitatedly. “I know you’ve stayed away since that night because this place scares you now.” The girl turned her whole body in her seat to face Claire. 

“What I don’t know is what you’re doing here now. Why now?” the girl emphasized. 

Claire turned away from the girl’s blazing stare to the pond, which lay less than a 100 feet in front of them. She recalled the two of them sitting on these swings everyday after school, talking about what life would be like when they were finally old enough to leave this town. They’d move to the city and get an apartment together. Claire would work at that flower shop she had visited when she was five and had fallen in love with, the girl never knew what she’d be. 

“Out of here” the girl would always say, laughing. “Out of this town, away from my dad - that's really all that matters”. 

Everyone in the town knew the girl's dad. Back then he hardly ever left the town bar, racking up a tab he could never afford to pay. When he did manage to get home he could be heard up and down the street, hurling words Claire refused to repeat even now. Claire never asked the girl what her dad did to her, neither did anyone, really. In a town like theirs, where everyone’s business was on display, there was no need too. The bruises on her face, the slight limp she wore, that she claimed came from an accidental fall down the stairs when she was eight, was enough said. 

Even if Claire did ask, the girl would never say anything. She’d just stare off at that pond, her eyes suddenly weighing her down, broadcasting the feelings she refused to put into words. Truth be told, Claire knew from a young age that the girl loved it here so much because here, her life was normal. She had a friend, someone who cared about her, and for the present, that was all that mattered. 

Claire turned her face downwards to the dirt she had kicked up from underneath the mulch at her feet. “I guess I wanted to come and apologize,” she said, her voice slightly cracking. 

“Apologize for what” the girl responded, her tone neutral and detached. 

Claire kept her head turned down to her feet. “I’m sorry for that night, and I’m sorry for saying what I did” she swallowed. “I didn’t know that you felt that way”. 

“Yes you did” the girl said, emotionless. “You knew I had no one.” It was the girls turn for her voice to crack. “You heard the way people talked about me, and you did nothing. You sat around and just watched” she threw out with such venom Claire shuddered. 

“It killed me, you know” the girl went on. “Seeing you with all your new friends” the girl turned herself back towards the pond. “I always knew you’d make some new friends, especially when we got to high school. I just thought- I just always thought you’d take me with you” she managed to finish. 

Claire rubbed the stinging sensation from her eyes. She didn’t go into high school with the intention of getting new friends; but when their schedules made it so they never saw each other during the day, save for lunch, Claire had no choice but to make new ones. In the beginning they all ate lunch together, the girl, Claire, and Claire’s new friends. The girl never brought anyone to lunch, and Claire never really thought much about it, preoccupied with the excitement of meeting new people.  After a while, Claire stopped coming by the swing set after school most days, her new friends kept making up excuse after excuse. 

“But we need to stop by the mall after school,” they whined. 

“There’s this new CD out we have to listen too” they would chirp. Eventually, Claire stopped coming by the swing set altogether.

She recalled that one weekend the bar was closed for repairs, and the girl’s dad was home all day. She couldn’t keep the sound of the yelling out no matter how hard she tried. The pillow over her ears made no difference, the screaming, the crashing, the police sirens all made their way through. The girl didn’t come to school that week. Or the week after. 

“That poor girl” she heard her parents say one night. “Foster care at this age, it's a wonder it took this long”. 

When she finally came back to school the girl's face was painted yellow and blue, remnants of that weekend two weeks prior. The school whispered with what happened to her. Claire’s friends were at the forefront of them. 

“I heard she ran into a pole,” one of her friends said sarcastically. “Too bad it couldn’t rearrange that lump on her face while it was at it” another replied, giggling. Claire didn’t say anything. She didn’t say anything when her friends told the girl that there was no more room at their table for her. She didn’t say anything when she saw the girl turn and walk away, tears silently cascading down her face. She didn’t even say anything when the girl walked up to her afterwards in the hallway and asked her to meet her at the swing set after school, walking away before Claire had a chance to tell her an excuse as to why she couldn’t come. 

Claire wasn’t going to go to the swing set after school originally; but as she laid in her bed, the day turning to night, she felt a twang of guilt hit her. When she eventually made her way over to the swing set that night she found the girl still waiting for her. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna show up” the girl had said to her as she approached. Claire stopped at the edge of the box, her toes resting on the side of the solid wood. The light of the almost full moon glittered off the frame of the set, not a cloud in sight to subdue the reflection. 

“What do you want” Claire has responded to her, no hint of emotion behind that voice. 

“Are you gonna sit?” The girl had asked shyly, gesturing toward the empty set beside her. 

As Claire hesitantly made her way over to the seat that night she recalled what her friends had said earlier that day. “I don’t know why she just doesn’t go away already, it's not like anyone would miss her”. 

“How are you?” the girl asked her once she sat down. 

“What do you want” Claire retorted quickly. “It’s cold, and I have to be home soon”. 

The girl had dropped her face to her shoes. “I just - I just wanted to tell you that I’m thinking about leaving” she stuttered. “I’m thinking about leaving”, she repeated more confidently, turning her head up to face Claire.

Claire had looked her in the eyes for a second before turning her face to look out at the pond. “Where too?” she eventually asked after a brief pause. 

“I don’t know, the city maybe”. The girl paused a second before continuing “We could go together”. 

Claire was silent. 

“You could work in that flower shop, like you always wanted,” the girl prodded cautiously. 

At that Claire whipped her head back towards her. “Why would I do that?” Claire threw at her callously. The girl turned back to face Claire, a line of tears forming on her waterline. “If you want to leave, go ahead. But leave me out of it” Claire rose from her seat harshly, the chains holding the seat rattling with the sudden effort. 

Tears fell down the girls face, clinging to it as they marked paths down her cheeks and engraved themselves on the girl's light gray sweatshirt. “I, just” the girl uttered faintly. 

Claire interrupted “go where you want, it's not like anyone would miss you”. She didn’t stay to watch as she heard the girl started sobbing behind her, the sound fading as Claire made her way across the field, and walked home. 

• • • 

“I thought you’d take me with you” the girl repeated, soft sobs following. 

Claire looked up at the girl, tears falling silently from her own eyes. “I- I wanted too” she let out. “I’m sorry”. 

The girl’s sobs fell silent, her chest continuing to fall and rise with the efforts. “So, you’ve come to apologize now, after all these years”. 

“I’m moving to the city tomorrow” Claire said softly as she turned her face back towards the pond. “Near that floral shop we used to talk about”. 

“I’m taking you with me, Mara” Claire produced a laminated card from her pocket, she looked it over once before reaching her arm out to show it to the girl. 

Mara turned her head to look at the card, quietly taking it in .“That's the photo they used. I hate that photo, I look constipated”. Mara and Claire broke into laughter at the same time, the latter pulling the card back in front of her, softening her laugh and smiling quietly. 

Her smile faded as she said, still looking at the card “The morning after you left, after that night, I was the one to find you.” She put the card back into her pocket. “I came back here to tell you-  to say sorry. But you had already left” Claire covered her mouth as deep sobs forced their way through her chest. 

“You were just, over there-” “floating”, Mara uttered softly, interrupting Claire. They both looked over at that pond, the calm, eerie, surface seeming to acknowledge both of their stares. 

“I remember”, she went on. “I remember seeing you come back, I remember you screaming and running away, I remember you getting help. I don’t remember actually - doing it”. She gestured, laughing softly “maybe that's for the best”. 

“I’m so sorry, Mara. I’m so sorry, for everything”. 

Mara turned her head to the sky. Eyes closed she inhaled the cold air deeply “I know” she said, exhaling. “Thank you”. 

Claire turned to look at her. 

“Thank you for taking me with you” Mara clarified, gesturing to the photo Claire held. “Thank you for taking me out of here”. 

Claire turned her head back to look out at the pond in silent acknowledgement. The reflection of the moon rippled in distortion on the surface of the pond as the night air picked up. A sudden chill ripped through Claire’s body as the hinges connecting the chains to the top of the frame of the now empty seat beside her let out a small squeak, as the seat pushed upwards and fell back down. Claire’s seat hung firm. She looked over at the now empty seat, only for a moment, to take it all in one last time. 

Claire Nelson inhaled deeply and got up from the familiar leather seat, exhaling as she made her way back across the field, the sound of the two empty seats squeaking in unison fading as she walked back towards home.