The dust rose as he kicked the ground. He was swinging on an old and creaky yellow swing. The play ground was almost deserted. Most kids were off to other exotic places for a vacation. Those here now were too young to play with. He got off the swing in a sudden jump. As he left the playground, a sudden gust of wind caught him, blowing the shiny black hair off his small forehead.
The dead leaves danced all around him as he walked towards his home. He missed his father. The visits seemed to have gotten more and more infrequent. And now he was gone on a business trip to some place which he didn’t bother finding out since he slammed the phone down as soon as he heard that he would not be coming for another 6 months at least. He saw Tommy on the road, playing catch with his Dad. He kept at a safe distance so they couldn't shout and invite him to join their game. She had told him many times to go play with them. But he wanted his Dad. Not anyone else. Why didn’t she get that?
He neared where his apartment was; looking up he saw the windows and the curtains fluttering softly in the afternoon heat. Suddenly, he hated that place, his home. That place - the complex, his nice neighbors, the tiny elevator, the green door, the smooth floors, the flowered walls, everything! He had to get away. The place which popped in his head immediately was the restaurant where she worked. It was her he missed now, though he would be seeing her in only an hour or so. He hated the place (why were there so many things he hated?), but he felt he just had to see her.
A small place, it was not exactly the most popular place in town. Besides her there were only two waitresses there. Today being Saturday evening, it would be crowded enough though to keep them all very busy.
The place was quite far away but he chose to walk. He noticed nothing and no one. When he reached there already the sun was starting to fade. He saw the big neon sign outside, and paused. Stupid place. He wouldn’t eat here if his life depended on it. He went around the back and peeped through a window. He could see the tables and the diners through the smoky air. The door opened for a moment and a sudden smell of boiled cabbage hit him. He twisted his nose in disgust and watched.
The door opened again and she came carrying someone's order. She was a slim lady with a soft face that had not aged at all. She wore her yellow hair in a neat bun on her nape. Still she managed to look like a college student who was only working part time. He watched her walk briskly with her small steps to a table, and lay the plates down deftly. With a brief smile that was hardly seen by the diners, she moved on to the next table - a group of old men playing cards. She chatted with them as she cleared their table of ash trays and mugs. One of the men said something, maybe a compliment and suddenly her face broke out into a smile. This time he knew it was real- it touched her eyes. She replied something, which made them laugh in return. She picked up the remaining trays and moved back into the kitchen. The smell of boiled cabbage came and went again.
He got up slowly and turned to go back. He did not remember the walk back, but surprisingly, he skipped the elevator and climbed the steps up to their home. He let himself in and instead of banging the door behind him, he locked it carefully. Instead of throwing his shoes on the carpet, he placed them neatly on the shoe rack. Instead of planting himself in front of the TV, he went to his room and cleaned it for the first time in his life without someone yelling at him. He came out and cleared the living room - putting everything in its right place. Next he vacuumed the whole apartment - their home. Then into the kitchen, he cleaned all the dishes from last night. From the fridge, instead of a coke he had a glass of cold milk. He felt really good inside.
There in the wooden cupboard was the expensive china that was used only for special occasions. He couldn’t remember the last time they had had one. He took it down and carefully cleaned it. The glasses were shined and the silver was polished next. He thought about what he would be the quickest thing to cook. An hour later, the cucumber and mayonnaise sandwiches were cut and ready. The table was set neatly with the china and silverware. He lighted two candles, set them in the center of the table and turned off the lights.
The door key turned and she entered. Frowning at the darkness, she called out to him,
"I’m home! Where are you? No TV today?!"
Then a sigh and she said again,
"Is it okay if we have sandwiches for dinner? I’m too tired to cook now."
No reply. Was he angry and shut up in his room again?
She reached the kitchen by now and she stopped, dumbstruck. She saw the clean shiny kitchen -the pans all hung clean, the bottles and jars all in a row, and the tiles all aglow. The two slim candles on the table shone warmly on the scene. He came and stood beside her.
He took her hand and said, "Dinner is served."
She smiled down at him and it was the most brilliant smile a mother ever smiled.
