That Broken Swing

*This story mentions and contains the death of a character.

Tom’s dress shoes scraped against the gravel. He examined the playground that hadn’t changed at all within the week, and yet, it was completely different from what it was a week ago. The once open park that was filled with children was now completely barren of any presence and was roped off by traffic cones with bright yellow caution tape. 

Tom read the bolded black lettering against the bright yellow plastic tape. 

CAUTION: DO NOT ENTER

A sign was also taped to one of the traffic cones. It read:

 “Closed In Memoriam Of Jake Hold.”

The sign had a printed picture of Jake, where he was wearing a red shirt with jean shorts, and he had his arm around someone, but the picture cut that person off. He remembered the photo being taken; it was taken a week ago.

Tom looked up at the empty playground. He could still hear the sounds of children laughing, their shoes barely touching the ground as they tried to tag one of their friends, and the squeaking sounds of the metal chains that jangled back and forth as kids swung themselves on the swings.

Tom looked around the empty lot, and the only one present was himself. He slowly raised his foot, and leaped over the roped cones. 

The dry mulch crunched underneath Tom’s dress shoes. He was now a little bit closer than where he was before, and yet, still not much had changed. Even so, he took a step, then another step, and by the time he took his fifth step, he stopped counting. 

He merely glanced at the plastic slides and the newly painted jungle-gym, as he was fixated on getting to the very back of the playground. As he stepped closer, his vision became slightly blurred as he continuously narrowed his eyes on the very back of the small playground: the swings.

Already roped within a closed off area, the swings were separately roped off by caution tape as well, as if a crime scene occurred at the elementary playground. 

How many people knew that to be true? 

Tom reread the bolded black lettering against the bright yellow plastic tape. 

CAUTION: DO NOT ENTER

Tom lightly lifted the tape in order not to snag it, as he lowered his tall stature and ended up on the opposite side of where he was supposed to be. 

He looked at the row of five empty swings. There were four plastic seats held up by two sets of metal chains. The fifth seat was only held up by one chain, and it caused the plastic chair to dangle towards the mulch ground.

Tom dropped into the closest swing, the one farthest away from the broken swing. He wrapped his arms around the chains, as his nice white shirt rubbed against the metal, and his hands clenched onto the chains. He hunched over as he hung his head low. He planted his feet onto the mulch ground. He did not push his feet from the ground and into the air, where he would usually fling the mulch across the ground, and sprawl his body across the sky. He just sat there.

“Tommy?”

Tom flinched, as he raised his head and gripped his hands tighter onto the cold chains. He looked around the empty playground, and there was no one in sight. He listened for the crunch of mulch, or the slight screeching sound against the plastic slides, but all he heard was silence. He slowly sat up, bracing the chains as if he depended on them. 

There was no way that was-

“Hey, Tom! Where have you been, dude? I feel like I haven’t seen you in a week!” 

Tom’s back stiffened, as his hands dug into the metal chains. Slowly, he turned his head to the right, looked at the broken swing, and saw someone he shouldn’t have been able to see.

There. He was still wearing his red shirt with jean shorts. His curly brown hair was tangled and the bandages that were on his elbows and knees were now gone. He was there. Right there. It was Jake.

“Ja-Jake?” Tom mustered out, as he lifted himself up from the swing. 

“Why do you seem so frazzled?” Jake questioned, as he stepped closer to Tom. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something!”

All Tom could seem to do was breathe, as he tried to process what was occurring, and slightly patted his skull, wondering if he fell off the swing and hit his head.

“What’s with your suit? I thought we agreed we would wear matching outfits…” Jake trailed off, as he tried to recall his memories. “Say, weren’t we wearing matching outfits when I saw you last? Seemed like a while ago…”

Tom looked down at his wrinkled white shirt. He was wearing a red shirt with jean shorts when he saw Jake last, when they got that picture taken. However, that day was a week ago from today. 

“Jake, you’re dead.” Tom assured himself, as he tried not to crumble into tears in front of his best friend. “…Did you not know that?”

“What?” Jake questioned, as he felt around himself. He tried to feel the cloth of his shirt or the roughness of his jeans, but all he could feel was air. 

“Why are you here?” Tom cautiously asked, as he slowly stepped away from the swing, and stepped closer towards Jake.

“I…I have no idea!” Jake blurted out. “I don’t even know how I got here!”

Tom stopped moving, as his knees locked and his hands clenched into a fist. He slowly stood in place as he just looked at his frantic friend. 

“Jake, do you remember how…you died?” Tom warily asked, as he clamped his hands together. 

Jake finally looked back at Tom. For a moment, they just stared at each other in fear. Jake slowly shook his head, as he feared to know the truth.

Tom slowly unraveled his fingers from his hands and let them fall to his side. He slowly looked past Jake to see the dangling swing.

“It was that, Jake.” Tom mentioned, as he motioned towards the broken swing. Jake swiftly turned towards the dangling piece of plastic held up by a single chain. They both just stared at the dangling piece of plastic, as the right chain held it from falling, while the left chain dangled along with the plastic seat.

Jake helplessly looked back at Tom, as his eyes glazed over with tears and his breathing became heavy. Tom bit down on his lip, as he tried to figure out what to say.

“It happened a week ago,” Tom muttered, as he looked down and flicked at the mulch with his nice shoes. “We were on the swings, and you wanted to see how far you could go…”

Jake shut his eyes, as he tried to remember the events that Tom mentioned, but all he could see was a fuzzy blur.

“As you got higher, a lot of the fifth grade students gathered around to see what would happen…” Tom muttered, as he looked back up to Jake. “Kids from all of the fifth grade came to see you today, too.”

Jake’s eyes flickered open, as he stared at his trembling friend. 

“Tom, do not change the subject!” Jake demanded. “What happened next?”

“You kept pushing yourself back and forth on that swing. You went so far and so fast that you could only graze the ground with the tips of your shoes,” Tom started, as he started to press his teeth into his lip again, wondering if he pushed hard enough, it would cause his lip to bleed. “Somehow, maybe due to the pressure, the plastic snapped off the chain when you went up, and…you fell.”

“Fell? I just ‘fell?’” Jake questioned the logic of Tom’s story.

“What else do you want me to say, huh? Do you want me to lie to you?” Tom yelled, as he clenched his fists and tears started to stream down his face. “Do you not want me to tell how every child ran around the park in a screaming panic? Do you not want to know how almost everyone from our elementary school showed up to your funeral today? Do you not want to know how I feel? How scared and sad I feel without you around?!”

Jake opened his mouth but he only responded in silence, as he watched his best friend shiver within his slightly wrinkled shirt and cried gushing tears. Tom took his shirt sleeve and wiped it profusely over his eyes.

“What are we going to do?” Jake helplessly questioned.

“What do you mean?” Tom asked, as he dropped his sleeve from his tear-stained face. 

“What am I supposed to do? What about elementary graduation? Or going to middle school? Opening our lockers for the first time? Graduating high school? Going to college and rooming together?” Jake rattled off. “What am I going to do without you?”

Tom’s eyes widened, as he tried to search for the right answers, but all he had were questions.

“Yeah, who am I going to talk to in class now? The girl who always gossips about everybody? Who am I going to trade my dessert with at lunch now? The kid who eats the mushy school lunch?” Tom muttered, as he jammed his hands into his pockets. “Who is going to be my best friend now?”

Tom and Jake looked up at each other. They stood in their silence. 

They had been best friends for as long they could remember. They were each other’s study partner’s, the partners and crime, and the best of best friends. The sleepovers they had, the after-school hangouts, the games they played, and the hours they spent together. Together, they had each other, but, could that still be true?

“Well,…you're still my best friend,” Jake muttered, as he tiredly smiled. “I hope I’m still going to be your best friend, Tommy.” 

Tom began to smile again, as his hands rose from his pockets and roped his fingers into the belt loops.

“Yeah,...you’re always going to be my best friend. No one could ever top you!” Tom assured Jake. “Don’t worry, Jake; I’m not going anywhere.”

Jake and Tom snickered at the sight of themselves, as tears perked between their eyes. 

“Tom? Tommy! Are you out here?”

Tom stiffened up again, as he flicked his head to the front of the playground. 

He listened to the clacks of heels against the gravel. A woman in a slick black dress with Tom’s phone in her right hand appeared.

“Ohhh, you’re mom’s mad,” Jake muttered, and Tom tried not to smile at his remark. “I don’t think I can get you out of this one. What did you do this time?”

“What do you think you are doing?” Tom’s mother questioned. “Get out of there!”

“Hey,” Jake whispered, before Tom could walk away. “When the park opens up again, you know where to find me!”

Tom smiled, as he leaped over the caution tape, and jogged across the mulch.

“I have been looking all over for you, young man! You could’ve just told me where you were going before you left the funeral home. You should be there for Jake-“

Tom’s mother stopped in her speech as she felt the embrace of small arms wrap around her waist. She looked down to see her son with a smile on his face and tears shedding from his eyes. 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She muttered, as she slightly crouched down and wrapped her arms around her son. 

“How did you know I was here?” Jake asked, as he backed away from his mother and wiped his eyes.  

“This is where you and Jake always met up whenever you wanted to hang out,” She sniffed, as she smoothed out Tom’s wrinkled and slightly damp shirt. “Is that why you were here?”

Tom looked back to the playground. It was empty of both presence and sound. Although he could barely hear the sound of metal squeaking as it swung a plastic seat back and forth, he could still hear it.

“I just came to see a friend,” Tom mentioned. 

“Oh, where are they?” She questioned, as she also looked out into the empty park. “Did they show?”

Tom narrowed his eyes onto the swing set, where he could see the swing that he sat in moving back and forth. He imagined coming back to an open park, where children would be back to running around, playing on the different sets, and him, swinging back and forth next to the fixed swing. 

“Yeah,” Tom sighed as he smiled. “I’ll see them again when the park opens back up.”