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The duplex where we moved
on Northwest 10th was much nicer and did have a better grass yard in front
rather than the bare ground courtyard look of the apartment on Elliot
Street. This interior was cleaner and in better shape, too. Most of our
possessions were either at the ranch or sold. It was easy to pick up and
change places.
Rhonda was sitting in her
little chair outside while the neighbor’s children are all playing around
her. The family living next door have nine children and they are all in
stair steps sizes. The youngest is the one who plays with Rhonda at the
moment. She is around three but has a speech impediment, already. It
doesn’t seem to matter to her that Rhonda can’t talk or walk. This child
with such loving ways simply brings her dolls and toys up to where Rhonda
is so they both can play together.
“We have to go for her walk
now, Little One and will be back after a while. Okay?”
I suppose the regimented
training of boarding school was still strong with me. Seems like
everything had to be done on schedule and it was a blessing and a hurdle
as well.
Our walk took us through
that part of town with not a thought about strolling past every kind of
residence and not once to worry who might be observing our activities. A
sign outside one of the houses caught my attention. Chiropractor, it read.
“There are all sorts of
interesting things in this neighborhood.” I spoke to Rhonda out loud and
as if to agree with my observation to our right and directly ahead was a
good sized park.
“Oh look! Rhonda, a park.
Would you like to swing for a while. It is so nice and sunny today I know
it will be fun. I remembered the Park in Ponca City which was close to
Gramma’s house. This one isn’t as big but it is provided with play
equipment.” Rhonda was excited and swung her arms up and down.
Truthfully, I never even
noticed the girl like woman who was already there with her child.
Certainly no real intention
to make a new acquaintance happened but her easy laughter, beautiful long
flowing hair, petite size and the most beautiful boy she was pushing in a
swing would have been hard for anyone to ignore. He was small, too and had
the most mischievous little grin. Blond curly hair and fair skin made me
believe he would grow up to be an Adonis or some fair Viking warrior. For
the present the park swing was holding him securely in place.
Linda was his mother’s name
and we visited as easily as if we had known each other forever.
She was asking questions
about Rhonda and for some reason I found myself going through all the
morbid details we had experienced so far. Her understanding should have
been a clue for me.
“I live very close,” Linda
told me. “Would you like to come to my apartment for a glass of tea?
“Well, why not, I think it
would be a wonderful thing to have a cold drink right about now.”
And I was honest. Something
about this sparkly little woman was just so pleasing and I felt she must
have been a pampered child who had no worries or anything to go wrong with
her life. She was well-dressed, immaculately groomed and looked like, as
the saying goes, old money. How wrong I was and from that I learned not to
make snap first judgements.
As she lifted her child
from the swing for the first time I could see the steel of his braces.
Linda lifted the edge of one pant leg and I saw they were full length.
There was a pain in my heart and it was all I could do to keep my emotions
from being noticeable. Only then, could I see the depth of pain that was
in her eyes even though she so carefully covered it with her lively,
bright personality and pleasant chatter.
The boy looked robustly
healthy and he used his arms and hands so well I was curious about what
his disability was. |
