A Day in the Park

Originally started from a prompt. Updated following critiques from here. TY.

06/10/2026

A DAY IN THE PARK

DADDY!!! The voice broke through his head, and his body spasmed, cracking his head on the hard surface of the plastic molded bench. He clapped his hands to his ears in a futile effort to stifle the echoing blast while his eyes darted about, seeking the boy who screamed that horrible sound; so long since he heard that voice.

The area slowly crept into focus. Light from the half-moon snuck across the playground equipment and he could smell the pulpy aroma of the refreshed carpet of materials which lay under it. And beneath that, his own summer ripeness.

Wind whispered through the trees behind him and caressed the back of his head, drying the sweat crawling down his neck. A dented soda can skittered across the deserted parking lot. Bats and bugs flittered around the globes of the two remaining functional safety lights in this section of the park.

Dexter rested in a semi dark section of the park that was as far between the two light poles as one could get. A dark area that had seemed a pleasant reprieve from the constant glare of streetlights a few hours ago. Now, with the echoes of that pitiful cry fading, every receding shadow in the near dawn light pushed back the forms that crept through his peripheral vision.

Dexter rubbed the tender spot on the back of his head as he dropped his feet to the ground and gradually lifted himself to a standing position, He unraveled the loop of his knapsack from the security knot around his arm and stretched, his knees popping like twin firecrackers. Small echoes from his knees caused him to wince. He set his legs a bit farther apart and twisted his back to the right. He tried again only a bit faster this time and was rewarded with a satisfying crack from his spine. He repeated the move to his left and sighed with the resultant crack. Dexter hefted his shoulders a couple of times and slung his knapsack on his back.

He headed to the still operating light farther into the park, following the meandering walking path staring at the flitting images of his little boy climbing the very slide to his left. The giggles of his little one rippled through the confines of his pained memories. Memories that still threatened burning and sweet tears in unison. As Dexter tore his eyes from the slide, they slipped over the vision of the wrecked SUV and a tiny sneakered foot protruding from beneath the front tire.

A salty tear dragged through the dirt on his cheek and was lost in the tangled, grey-streaked beard he now wore. Dexter blinked away the daily vision and shook his head. He reoriented his direction for the restrooms and water fountains.

He cupped one hand under the small arching jet of cool water and splashed his face and rubbed the back of his neck. He splashed his face again, washing away another tear. He rinsed his mouth and drank deep from the fountain trying to remember if it was Tuesday or Wednesday. If it was Wednesday, then it was time to change his clothes.

DADDY!!! The scream rent through his head again, causing him to stagger back a step and jerk in surprise, flinging droplets of water which flashed in the meager light and were gone. This time the sound emanated from the copse of trees to his right. “Jeremy?” His son’s name slipped from his lips in a trembling whisper.

“Daddy?” It was a faint whimper but came again from the trees.

Dexter took a step toward the sound and shook his head, ran a hand down his face and retracted the step.

“Daaaddddy?” A sniffle followed this plaintive wail. “I can’t find you. Where’s Mommy. I can’t find you.”

Dexter’s sob caught in his throat, and he clamped his jaw against the noise. “It can’t be.” This choked whisper slipped around the lump in his chest. And this time he completed the step to the trees followed by another hesitant shuffle.

“Daddy?” The high-pitched whimper at the end of that word broke Dexter’s trepidation and he bounded into the trees.

“I’m coming Jeremy!” The aura from the nearest safety light could not penetrate the veil of interlocking leafy branches as Dexter dodged around trunks and harried over roots. A faint shadow of blue, deeper into the copse drew him forward.

He rounded a large trunk and skidded to a stop. There stood his 4-year-old, bathed in soft blue light. Jeremy’s small-toothed smile filled his face as he said Daddy again and held up his arms. Dexter could hear the relief in his son’s voice this time. A joyful replacement to the painful wail from minutes before. Dexter dropped to his knees, scooping up his son as he rained kisses over his soft cheeks and forehead. He brushed back the stubborn cowlick of his hair and squeezed the little body to him. Jeremy giggled and wrapped his arms around his daddy’s neck. Through his laughter Jeremy said “PU Daddy. You stinky. You need a bath.”

Dexter’s laughter played hopscotch through the sobs in his throat. “Yes, I do Buddy. Yes, I do. And I will get one soon as I can. I promise.”

Jeremy leaned back from his father, his face melting into a somber expression. “We need to be quiet Daddy. We are safe here, but we have to be very hush-hush.” And he put a finger on Dexter’s lips.

Dexter cocked his head as he gazed at his son. The faint blue glow around him faded some as Jeremy shifted to peer over Dexter’s shoulder. When he did, Dexter noticed the back of Jeremy’s skull held a concavity, like a brick pushed into a balloon.

Dexter’s hand trembled as it hovered behind his son’s now misshapen head and he bit off another sob before it escaped. But he couldn’t pause the racking jitter step of his chest. His lips stopped the spill of bile that shot up his throat and coated the inside of his mouth.

“They almost here Daddy. We have to be hush-hush now.” When Jeremy brought his face to Dexter’s, the blue light surrounded them and reformed the healthy shape of his tiny head. The dark hair on the back of his head no longer matted with blood.

Dexter swallowed the acid back to the scalding cave of his belly. He stuttered twice before asking his son who ‘they’ were.

“Dun know, Daddy. But we need to sleep now. Lie down with me? Tell me the story about the moon and the bunny again? It’s my favorite.”

“Sure thing, Jerm. Love to.” Dexter lay down on a soft bed of leaves beneath a tree and pulled his son close, kissing the back of his head, inhaling the comforting memory of baby shampoo.

The branches above swayed and slowed, then stopped with Dexter’s breath.