Down Swinging

Interviewer

Set the scene. Describe what was happening before everything transpired.

Indie

The sky was in a dismal mood. It wept, watering the tall grasses and the garden behind the barn. I sat on a rope swing under the awning, pumping my legs in and out with the rhythm of the rain. Transfixed on the sky, I stretched my feet as far out as I could reach. Cloud-sifted tears ran down my ankles and bare feet. Behind me, deeper in the barn, sat an old AM radio. I could hear an old gospel choir trying to sing over the old machine's fuzz and exhaustion. I hummed the harmony to myself, without the faintest idea of the words, or honestly the tune. And, mind you, it was still raining.

Wells

I was sitting at the kitchen table, more than a little perturbed because of my foiled plans. Okay, foiled is maybe a strong word. I just didn't want my brand new invention to get wet. It was late in August, which means I was getting progressively more bored, and equally as creative. And the good thing about farms is that they afford you lots of creativity. The bad thing about farms is there's lots more space to forget things. And as I looked out the window, and saw Indie swinging under the barn awning, I realized something I'd forgotten.

Ed

There are four types of people. People who like the rain, people who don't, people who work outside, and people who work outside and like the rain (nobody). I fall into the third category, as does anyone who works outside (in my humble opinion). But that's all beside the point. I was working outside in the rain (did I mention I work outside) at my farm, because that's what farmers have to do (did I mention farms are outside). But that's all beside the point as well. What's right on top of the point, maybe even the point itself but I can't quite tell without my glasses on, is that I heard a loud crash in the barn in front of the garden where I was weeding (outside).

The Sky

It was a bad day, okay! I'm sorry for any negative part that my tears may have played in the documented events.

Interviewer

Describe what happened after that.

Indie

At this point I was about to give the sky a pat on the shoulder. Or maybe even an empathetic hug. It was sobbing and sobbing all over the farm. Tears were gathering into puddles deep in the earth's indentations. Untiringly, I stretched my legs toward the open field leading to the house. The swing creaked on it's hinges, the rope soared up towards the weepy sky, and the latter began to return rapidly to the soaked soil. Thud. I landed in a salty gathering of tears and mud.

Wells

Remembering what I'd forgotten, I ran out towards the barn. Legs and arms, fighting space and time and gravity. But it was too late. As I neared the awning with the swing, one thing stuck out like a neon sign. There was no longer a swing. Instead the swing was sprawled out over the muddy field, and Indie along with it.

Ed

I can now confirm that the crash was my main point. A person gets confused when they spend so much time outside. Outdoors. Out-of-doors. Not inside. Not indoors. Being a farmer. A grower. An agriculturist. A person who's job is to work outside. Work. Labor. Preform. Struggle. Impressive person. But that's all beside the point. The point is that I saw my daughter Indie laying in the mud, with the rope swing next to her. She was moaning and groaning like a pig giving birth.

The Sky

Okay, so at least the her falling part wasn't directly my fault.

Interviewer

What did you do after Indie and the swing came down?

Indie

Now not only was the sky in a dismal mood, I was. Wind-battered and rain-soaked, I laid on the field like a queen upon her canopy bed. My leg ached. It felt as though an old saw had slowly severed the bone from itself. Some people would call that broken. But the important detail here is that I'm the most poetic person in the story.

Wells

I knelt down next to Indie and picked her up. I carried her across the field, into the house, and out of the rain. She was really curious what happened, but I just told her she fell off the swing. She never did ask how it happened.

Ed

One can only be outside for so long. So I went inside just for a little bit but that doesn't really matter. What matters is that I went inside because Indie broke her leg, and I saw Wells carrying her inside. I asked him what happened and he said she fell off the swing. But that didn't explain what happened to the swing.

The Sky

Still wasn't really my fault guys. Don't see why I must be interviewed.

Interviewer

What took place once you all came inside?

Indie

I tried to ask Wells what happened, beyond that I tumbled off the swing into the treacherous waters of the field. But he really gave me no answer. I do have my suspicions though.

Wells

I think I did pretty well trying to take care of the whole situation. I got Indie some ice, helped prop her leg up, found her some crutches, all the things.

Ed

Wells pretty much took care of it, so I went outside pretty much immediately.

The Sky

I didn't come inside. I'm far too big.

Interviewer

Who do you think is responsible for what occurred?

Indie

It had to be me. If only I hadn't swung so high. If only I had consoled the sky before everything got too wet and slippery. I'll take the blame for this one.

Wells

By this point in the story it's obvious that it was me. I'm the only one who could have messed with the swing. When I took those washers off of the rope for my invention, I should have let Indie know the swing was rendered unsafe.

Ed

Of course it was me. If only I hadn't gone inside for my lunch break (I was outside for the overwhelming majority of the day to be clear). Then I would have noticed that the top of the swing was coming undone.

The Sky

Fine, it was my fault. I shouldn't have gotten quite so upset.

Interviewer

Thank you all for your time. That was all very insightful.

(This article was first published in the 2008 edition of The Observer Reporter. It was originally titled "It Was Everybody's Fault.")