Swing

She had held a visceral memory of the thrill of a smooth, sleek slide; the rush of air, the slight drop in her stomach, gliding swiftly towards the ground. It was nothing like the experience she was currently having. Gravity could no longer overcome the resistance her weight created; not as easily as it could when she was eight years old and sixty pounds. She was straining, using the squeaking heels of her shoes to pull her body forward. It felt challenging just to reach the steepest part of the decline in the yellow plastic tube. 

She mumbled to herself while slowly scooting along. “Ugh, you just never realize how small you were...” She grunted and then let a sudden gasp escape as she suddenly slid down a few yards, coming to an abrupt, almost painful stop just before her feet reached the bottom edge of the slide. She could feel warmth through her jeans created from the friction. 

“Graceful.”  

The familiar voice caused a smirk to break through the surface of her frustration and she chuckled. “Shut up. These slides are made for little kids.”  

She wriggled forward until her feet were finally able to touch the ground under the end of the slide. The crunching give of the rocks was oddly comforting, bringing back the sense of nostalgia she had temporarily lost sight of on the slide. 

“I thought you might not show.” 

“Yeah, sorry. Got caught up.” There was a barely audible sigh from the figure in front of her. “The kids see their babysitter more than me these days and they are usually okay having Natalie put them to bed but, I don’t know,” she shrugged sadly, “tonight they didn't want me to go.”  

Annie took in the sight of her friend. It was difficult to make out most of her features.  She was starkly outlined by the bright white lamp lights in the parking lot behind her, which left the entire center of her body in shadow, like a chalk drawing of a body at a crime scene. There were whisps of hair lightly blowing in the breeze, the white light leaving a glow on their edges as they waved off the side of her friend’s head, reminiscent of smoke being carried away the moment it exited a chimney. Most of her hair was presumably pulled back in a messy ponytail. She wore a dark colored jacket that looked thin. The outlines of her fists could be seen as she pressed them down into the pockets at her sides. 

Annie stood and walked toward the figure, having the feeling of walking towards a spirit, the glow around her giving her an ethereal aura. She able to make out her face more as she approached; the same smile she was so used to, sad eyes she had not yet adjusted to. She opened her arms wide, and her friend grinned and accepted the greeting as they embraced. 

“Hey Lilly. Missed you.” 

---

The high-pitched, rusty squeak of the swings decorated the comfortable silence. The same lights from the school parking lot created long shadows stretching out in front of them. It created the sense that they were much bigger than they were; a larger-than-life shadow puppet play. Further out, the stark outlines blended into the larger shadow of the night, beyond the reach of the brightness. 

They were gently swinging side by side, as they had so many times in their youth. It had been quiet for a few minutes and Annie felt unsure if she should be the one to break it. Nothing she could think to say seemed right. Thankfully, Lilly broke it for her. 

“I’m sorry I never called you back.” As Annie glanced towards the sound of Lilly’s voice, she saw her continuing to look out at the field in front of her. For a moment, Annie questioned whether she actually heard the words, but decided to respond anyway. 

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. You had a lot going on.” 

There was another beat of silence. 

“I don’t know what to say to people.” 

Annie felt her heart ache in her chest. “You don’t need to say anything.” 

“I know everyone is worried and I want to reassure them but...I also. I’m so...” Lilly let out a breath and turned her face towards the ground, continuing to allow the swing to carry her forward and back, maintaining the process with an occasional push from her foot. 

“You’re so what?” Annie prompted. 

“I’m angry.” Her voice had an edge to it, suddenly. “I know it’s not fair, but I’m angry at everyone. For being so normal and caring. For having their normal lives. I’m angry at people for not being able to understand, which is so stupid. And I’m angry at him.” Her breath caught and Annie could hear tears get caught in Lilly’s throat. “I’m angry at him for leaving.” 

Annie spoke softly, “I think that’s okay. It’s normal.” 

“None of this is normal. It’s not normal to lose your husband. To have to tell your kids that their dad is gone, when they don’t even understand the concept of death.” The sudden volume of Lilly's voice had startled Annie momentarily, and now the silence seemed more sharp.

Annie looked down at her own feet, swinging back and forth over the worn patch of rock and dirt below her. So many sliding feet had worn away landing pad for anyone who sat here. She didn't know what to say so she didn't say anything. They were quiet for a few more moments, before Lilly spoke again. 

“He’s just gone. He won’t taste pineapple or hear the sound of a zipper. He wont hug his kids or roll his eyes at his mom. His life just stopped. What is that?” There was a dullness in her voice now. Annie tried to understand; attempted to wrap her mind around what it must be like, but she knew she could only comprehend so much. It was just out of reach and part of her was grateful for that. 

“He loved you.” 

Another sigh. Defeated. “Yeah, I know.” 

“No, I mean, he really...I’m not saying that to, like, ease the pain or whatever. There’s weight to that. Its important. It always ends and maybe it inherently pointless but...he loved you and he loved...all that it meant to love you. He changed you.” 

There was shaky, breathy laugh that seemed to dissipate almost as soon as it was out of Lilly’s mouth. 

“Do you remember when we would come here and smoke those menthol cigarettes and share our ear buds? God, that seems like a different life.” Her face turned slightly, and Annie could see the light bounce off the curve of her cheek. She was smiling. 

“Yeah,” she felt her own smile appear as she glanced up at the sky to see a few points of light peeking through the clouds. “We were so cool.” The sarcastic jab at their younger selves left a slight taste of envy in her mouth. Sometimes she wished she could go back. Annie brought her eyes back down to the ground, reminiscing about a different time; the intense mixture of despair and hope that tinged her youth. Less happy, but blissfully ignorant.

Lilly's voice cut through her reverie. “I was so afraid to seem happy.” She was looking forward again, the signs of a pensive look on her face, though the shadows still obscured it. Maybe she was just sad. “He did change me. And I changed him. He would have kept changing. He could have been...I don't know. We could have done more. Grown more together. Now its all so incomplete.” 

She thought about the words and, despite her fear of upsetting her friend, she decided to respond honestly. That is what Lilly needed. That is always what she needed from Annie. That why she called her. 

“I don’t think that is true. We all have to leave at some point, some of us earlier than others. But it’s never incomplete because our whole life is just moments. We aren’t growing into some predestined version of ourselves. We are growing. And we just...are. He had moments. So many moments with you. Where he was loved and he loved. That is complete. That is whole. His life was full. He loved. I...” She didn't know what else to say and she felt almost guilty at expressing the thought so incompletely. 

She reached over, without thinking, and grabbed Lilly’s hand. It was cold and she could feel the dry skin on her knuckles, but it was familiar, and it felt like the only possible action. It was the mooring of a ship during a storm, like a boat on the water rocking with the waves, resisting the pull of the open ocean with a single frayed rope. Their swings had slowed so that they were only moving a few inches forward and back now, allowing gravity to slow their movements, each of their shoes resting lightly on the ground now. 

“You want to get a drink before you need to go home? I’m buying.” 

Lilly looked at her with a sad smile. Her eyes were wet, but she didn’t shed any tears. Annie knew she would eventually, maybe later tonight, or the next day. But for now she was here with her and that was enough. 

"Yeah. That would be great."