Ring around the roses

Written in response to: Set your story in a kids’ playground, or at a roundabout.... view prompt

6 comments

Speculative People of Color Coming of Age

This story contains themes or mentions of mental health issues.

Brian nodded at the armed man that protected the indoor playground entry, bringing up his ID for the guard to examine.


The man's cold, grey eyes roved from the ID, down to the tiny girl half hidden behind Brian's leg.


"What's wrong with her?" The man asked, bringing his hand across his face like the scars running down Gemma's face.


"Nothing is wrong with her." Brian defended immediately. "She got sick as a kid, and survived." He glanced down at Gemma's quiet face, always worried about the effect this had on Gemma.


The armed man narrowed his eyes and waved over a sharply dressed woman.


There was a clattering of heels and then the young woman was next to them. "What's happening?" She asked, fixing her glasses.


"Oh, aces." Brian snapped, rolling his eyes as the armed man jutted his chin towards Gemma.


"Can this one go in?" The man asked, shifting his weapon from one arm to the other.


The dangling ID identified the smiling young woman as Doctor Rizavi, as she knelt in front of Gemma. "Hi, can I see, love?" Gently, the woman moved Gemma's face, studying the trail of scars. "She's fine." She said, standing up and offering Brian an apologetic smile.


Brian glared back, sick and tired of this nonsense.


"Bye." Gemma lisped to the doctor and Dr Rizavi grinned, waving back, as Brian angrily tugged Gemma into the room.


The second they entered, there was an immediate wave of noise. The surviving children's gleeful shouting and the voices of their parents.


Brian felt Gemma squeeze his hand as they approached the bustling, noisy playground. There were soft plastic floors instead of peoples and grass. Seats instead of benches, and a dull, artificial light instead of the sun. Brian never got used to all the changes in their lives now, but Gemma stared at it, both longing and miserable.


Brian waited for Gemma to go there, watching children leap and run and scream. When the girl didn't move, Brian sighed, kneeling down to meet her eyes.


He wasn't good with kids, or motivation. He'd always been the popular kid at school, talkative, sporty, and easily accepted. "Go on, Emmy. Go play," Brian tried gently steering the girl towards the playground.


Gemma shook her head, her dark hair hanging in her eyes. Brian brushed it away and Gemma pouted at him. He stared at those scars so much that he sometimes forgot they were there.


But he knew Gemma never forgot. That people, especially kids, never let anyone forget.


"Emmy, don't you wanna play?" Brian demanded. "Come on, you were so excited this morning."


"Brian, I wan' go home." Emmy declared, hiding away from the adults staring at her.


"No, come on, playing with other kids is good for you." Brian insisted. He didn't need Gemma growing into some socially awkward weirdo. People judged his sister's kid enough as it was.


Not to mention, there were barely any people left anyways. Brian needed Emmy to get used to others, to get used to working with others, so she'd survive even without him.


"Come on." Brian scooped her up, carrying her closer to the playground. "The fuck do you want?" He demanded from a woman staring at Emmy with horror, clutching her kid.


"You said-ed a bad word." Gemma observed, a perfect clone of her mother in the way they never let him forget a damn thing.


Brian rolled his eyes. "Get used to it. Hey, you." He beckoned over a slightly older girl, maybe thirteen years old.


God, Brian felt like an idiot.


"Yes?" The girl asked, eyes wary as she approached.


"What game are you guys playing?" Brian asked, watching the girl observe Emmy's face.


"Grounders." The girl grinned. "You close your eyes and-"


"Emmy, you know how to play grounders?" Brian didn't let her come up with some stupid excuse. "You'll learn." He held out Emmy's hand to the girl. "This is Emmy, will you play with her?"


"Sure." The girl exuded older sibling energy, Brian noted, as she easily accepted Emmy's hand. "Hi Emmy, my name is Simonetta." And with that, the girl managed to get Emmy on the playground equipment.


Brian eyed them carefully, his arms crossed as he watched Simonetta introduce Emmy to her small group.


There were a couple kids that looked just like Simonetta, with brown skin and identical hooded eyes, and a few more strangers.


Simonetta scolded a little boy that made a fuss, and just like that, they were playing.


Brian's father had been a stern, angry guy who thought kids learnt best under the conditions of extreme terror and parental disappointment. Brian and his sister were just expected to be socially competent, aggressive, intelligent and winners.


Thank God, Mr. Wu had perished in the first wave of illness, Brian mused bitterly. The man would have despised his quiet, lonely and vulnerable granddaughter.


Or maybe having a strict grandpa would have made Gemma fearless, Brian wondered, watching Emmy get caught as she slowly hid.


Simonetta helped as much as she could, but Emmy still sucked at this game.


There was a brief amount of discussion, then Emmy went down, much to Brian's annoyance.


Then, to his surprise, Emmy closed her eyes and climbed back up, warning the other, shrieking kids that she was going to catch them.


Simonetta seemed very pleased, letting Emmy's outstretched hands 'catch' her, to reward the little girl for her bravery.


Brian figured that was all the watching he needed to do, and moved his eyes elsewhere. Like him, there was a swarm of concerned parents and guardians around the playground.


There would have been a time when parents left kids alone, or didn't let kids as old as Simonetta run around playgrounds. But that time was long over.


A devastating series of ecological events, the release of hundreds of bombs, wars, and diseases had crippled the earth. Countries like the United States and Canada merged, settling into an uneasy peace as the Polar States.


But everyone was at war, everyone at risk. These kids, maybe a hundred of them, Brian estimated, were the last surviving children out of at least two hundred thousand that used to live in his town.


Their parents were sunken and exhausted, some lightly scarred like Gemma was. But watching their kids play, and forget the shitty, hot world outside the doors seemed to calm them.


Watching kids fall, get up, play with each other in a sad mimicry of the past was soothing, even to Brian, who thought he'd lost all that.


Brian had always believed that his childhood with his father had technically prepared his sister and him for the apocalypse. They were always ready to win, to beat others, to make the most of their life and talents.


But he'd been wrong. The world had crumbled, lost the need for textbooks and stock markets, and become impossibly cruel. They lived in a weird juxtaposition of technological advancement and regression.


Hydroponic farms grew precious reserves of food, but people travelled on foot, or in old, beaten cars. Some had already turned to horses.


Medicine was a tricky subject, and his sister, Nicole, had been lucky to give birth when there was still some system left.


After that, when Nicole, her husband, and her daughter caught the Red Plague, there was one dose. And Brian picked Gemma.


His fists clenched automatically thinking about it now, his sister dying slowly on a cot in their decrepit house, her skin covered in the red blisters and rashes that still scarred Gemma.


"Hi," A dark-skinned man said to Brian suddenly, and Brian raised an eyebrow, waiting.


"I'm Mark," Mark stated with a grin, holding out a hand.


"Brian Wu." Brian replied, taking it.


"Which one's yours?" Mark asked, scanning the playground. "Mine's the noisy one on the slide, and the little one trying to eat the floor."


Brian spotted both of them, adorable and coloured slightly darker than their father. "The girl who's about to fall off the bars, there."


"Oh?"


Both of them looked just as Gemma slipped and fell. Brian caught her tearful eyes.


"You're fine, Emmy, keep going." He waved, trying to get her back in the game.


"Brave girl." Mark smiled, and Brian focused on him again. "I'm sure you want the best for her."


"She's not that brave," Brian narrowed his eyes, "And yeah, I think that's pretty obvious."


Mark didn't seem put off, as he went on. "Some of us know of an abandoned military base a little further north. The journey's not easy, but there's food, medicine, and tech."


"How do you know about it?" Brian asked, one eye on Emmy. "If it was that important, the government would have-"


"There is no government left, and the ones that are, are dealing with chaos in the midwest. This is a prime opportunity to get there, and help our kids survive."


"Nice of you to share it." Brian said slowly, considering. "Why me?"


"You have a little kid, and a degree in engineering." Mark nodded to the ID card in Brian's front pocket. "I'm a chemist, but an environmental expert by trade. My husband's a surgeon, and I've already recruited Dr Rizavi,"


Brian remembered the doctor from earlier.


"She's pregnant and terrified of raising her kid here. They're running out of everything, water, food, meds." Mark grinned at a woman who passed them, and then his eyes turned serious again. "But this is only half the info. Say yes, and we leave tomorrow morning. Bright and early."


"That's it?" Brian asked, "Just us-"


"There are three other families, and before you get too worried, Dr Rizavi already plans to make the base open to as many people as possible." Mark shrugged. "If we survive, that is. Doctors, am I right?"


Brian breathed in deep, and glanced around the room. Saw the cracks in their temporary haven, the sweat from the murderous heat outside beading everyone's brows.


He saw Dr Rizavi, eyes heavy, as she checked up on two kids on the side, tending to their scraped knees.


"I'm in." Brian said, looking back at Mark. Mark nodded, eyes twinkling.


"Meet us here tomorrow, five a.m. Pack light. We've got a long ways to go." Mark walked away then, calling to two kids to join him.


"Emmy!" Brian called and the girl ran over to him, breathless with glee.


"Did you see me, did you see my-"


Brian interrupted her. "We're leaving."


Emmy's face fell. "Okay, but can I come back tomorrow?"


Brian knew he should grow up and tell her truth. That they were leaving. That most of these kids would perish. "Sure."


And he tuned Emmy out as they left, and she spoke more than she had in weeks.


"Wait," Dr Rizavi said softly, stopping them. She smiled at Emmy, and handed her a small bottle. "It's the last one. It'll protect your scars from the sun."


Brian stared at her, both of them burdened with the knowledge. "I guess we'll see you."


Dr Rizavi nodded. "I guess you will. Bye Emmy."


"Bye." Emmy smiled shyly, and Brian led her away from the hollering children, and her childhood.

July 20, 2022 00:15

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6 comments

Kendall Defoe
12:36 Jul 24, 2022

All too true here: we do things to protect what or who we love, despite the damage done in the long run. A very interesting tale...

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Eve Retter
19:01 Jul 20, 2022

Oooh love this. I love how u saw a fairly simple prompt and roped it into some crazy story about the apocalypse

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Moon Lion
22:29 Jul 20, 2022

What? Crazy? Departing from the prompt? Me? No. Never.

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L. E. Scott
18:40 Jul 20, 2022

Aww that's so sad. I mean maybe he's doing what's best for her, but right after she started to warm up to others hes gonna take her far away.

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Moon Lion
18:55 Jul 20, 2022

I know, right? Thank you so much for reading!!

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Graham Kinross
09:42 Feb 01, 2023

That is grim, I love it. I want more. Keep this one going please. I want to see how it goes. Inspired by anything? Feels like The Last of Us or Shadow of Chernobyl.

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