The Park Where It All Started

Marie had few things to look forward to in her day. When she was younger, she enjoyed a great many things. She had hobbies, she had interests. As the years waned, however, Marie found herself lost in the stagnant working routine of the every man. Her job wasn’t exactly fulfilling and everyone around her seemed to be a step ahead. They were all getting married, buying houses, and having children.

Sometimes she would scroll social media and read something just to get angry. Other times she would watch cute cat videos just to feel happy again. Nothing came naturally anymore. Every moment and every feeling felt forced.

It was on one particular day, on one particular lunch break, that Marie found herself driving. Not to her favorite taco stand or the mall nearby for people watching. She drove instead to a rundown park. This wasn’t any ordinary park. When Marie was little, the park was a magical place. Its trees were filled with her favorite dragons masquerading as birds. The ground became lava or the ocean at a whim. On the swings, she could fly. On the slide, she fell into the center of the Earth.

Her grandmother, of whom Marie was named after, would always bring her to one particular bench. The bench was old and made from wood. It sat just under an oak tree and over looked the entire park. As the tree grew larger, the park grew smaller. Its swings rusted and its ground cracked.

It had been years since Marie sat at that bench. She would take a break from her imagination and watch her grandmother sketch. Sometimes she would doodle in the corner. The bench seemed so tall back then. She sat down and noticed how she still remained anchored to the world. Her feet no longer dangled, her mind no longer wandered to the clouds above.

Marie leaned back. She thought about her life. Nothing existential, just a list or two; things for work and some groceries. Just ahead, she noticed something carved into a tree.

Two letters inside of a heart.

Marie leaned forward trying to read them. It looked like an S and the other a T. She nearly fell over, but caught herself with her foot. Something was accidently kicked away. Her mind went straight to squirrel and her heart dropped as she spun around. Thankfully, it wasn’t a creature but a thing.

A small black notebook.

Curious, Marie plucked the book off the ground. She opened it to find other people had found it and written in it. Names, mostly. So and so was here. Initials inside of hearts. She was reminded of her grandmother and thought about writing their shared name down. Then she looked around the beaten down park and remembered how much her grandma loved it. How she would draw the birds and the trees.

Marie searched for a blank page and started sketching right away. She didn’t think much on it, just drew tree upon tree. There was a sudden breeze and she noticed the park was fuller than it had been moments ago. The trees looked plump and full of life. She didn’t count them beforehand. Though Marie could have sworn there weren’t as many as there were now.

Curious still, she started drawing birds. Colorful and loud birds, all of her grandmother’s favorites. As she drew, another gust blew. With it, the sound of birds singing. Marie looked up to find the trees littered with small feathery dragons.

She flinched, nearly dropping the book, but her pencil did fall. Marie shut the book on reflex. She stared at it as it rested on her lap. The pencil was still rolling somewhere behind her. Slowly Marie peeked inside, shutting the book quickly; as if it could bite her. She moved to retrieve her pencil, feeling the shock and fear subsiding with every move she made.

Finding her courage, all her doubts took a backseat. Marie looked around her and began sketching the park. Not as it was, but as she remembered it to be. Soon, the grass grew prouder. Rust melted away, leaving behind nothing but happy metal. The monkey bars stood stronger, the benches bolder. Nothing could hold Marie back now but Marie herself.

She added a pond made from stone. A similar stone her grandmother used to grind spices. Everything was greener. Green was her grandma’s favorite color, after all. The park burst with life and, with it, Marie as well. She felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time. It washed over her, drowning her in a sea of hope and inspiration.

All too quickly, Marie reached the last page. Something bittersweet fell over her as she wrote her grandmother’s name. It itched itself into the bench she sat upon and seemed to radiate with the day’s glow. Another gust of wind came and the book’s pages popped. Two hundred pages taking on a one hundred dollar bill. Marie stared in awe as the money poured over her lap.

She could quit her job. She could pay off her student loans. Marie, overwhelmed by all the possibilities, cried. She looked around her and at the park she created and sobbed harder. In that moment, all she hoped for, was that she made her grandmother proud.

It took some time to gather the money and to gather herself. But, all too soon, she was leaving the park. As she went, she noticed a city worker. He nailed a sign into the ground.

Land for Sale.

Marie looked at the money. She glanced around the park. Then back at the sign and smiled.