Fast
Food Play Land
by SuniD
Cars
inched forward, bumper to bumper, past a screaming speakerphone and
toward the first window, where the drivers offered up bills and
picked through pocket change in exchange for fast food. Steaming
paper bags were thrust
through a second window. Meals claiming value and happiness were
divvied among the passengers.
A man
in a blue Prius snatched his meal out of the drive-thru window and
squealed out of the lot, causing a little blonde boy, who was
lunching in the adjoining courtyard, to look up.
“Charlie,
finish eating,” Mina said to the boy from across the table.
Charlie
sat on the red bench, kicking his legs and licking ketchup off
the back of his hand. An empty hamburger bun, with a particle of
melted cheese clinging to the top, sat uneaten in front of him. He
slurped the last of his drink through a straw and asked, “Mommy,
can I be done?”
Mina,
with eyes half-closed and cheeks full of food, waved the toddler
away. Her eyes popped open and she swallowed quickly before
hollering, “Wait!” Deserting her sandwich, Mina ran after her
skipping son and shouted, “Give me your socks and shoes.”
“They
go there,” Charlie said and pointed to a row of cubbyholes
containing the footwear of children already inside the jungle gym.
“I’ll
take them,” Mina said, beckoning with both hands.
Charlie
sat on the warm concrete and pulled hard at his laces, creating
knots, which Mina stooped to untie.
“And
we’re not staying long,” she said, waving a stiff finger at the
boy. She secured the spotless sneakers under one arm and returned to
the table, and her lunch
“Mommy,
look at me,” Charlie yelled and waved from inside the play-place.
“Watch me cross the bridge!”
“I
see you,” Mina said, glancing at the metal bars and netting that
encased her son and several other children. She wadded up food
wrappers and shoved them into her sandwich box. These she
deposited in a trash bin near the tall wrought iron fence that served
to keep kids in, and everyone other than paying customers out. Before
sitting back down at the table, Mina pulled a long list of scribbles
from the back right pocket of her faded jeans.
“Mommy,
watch me go down the slide.”
“That’s
great, honey,” Mina said with eyes fixed on her list. She pulled a pen out
from behind her ear and began crossing off certain tasks: check,
bank, library books, and movies. She looked at her watch, and then at
the remaining chores. Her lips silently formed the words “recycling,”
“groceries,” “dry-cleaning,” and “dress rehearsal.” She
looked at her watch again and, tapping the pen against the table,
shook her head from side to side.
“Hey!
It’s my turn!” Charlie’s voice hit a high note and Mina stood and looked up in the same moment. A bigger boy was shoving his way to the front of a line leading to the
twisty-slide. Charlie was now the child blocking him.
“Charlie,
it’s time to go.” Mina pocketed the list, tucked the pen back
behind her ear, and moved toward the playground equipment.
“Mommy,
watch me slide,” Charlie said as he pushed off.
“That’s
the last one.”
Charlie
slid round fast at first and, slowing down, scooted on his butt to
the bottom.
“Okay,
that was fun,” Mina clapped her hands without a smile. “Now, come and
get your shoes back on,” she added in a sing-song voice.
“One
more,” Charlie giggled and retreated further into the playground.
“No.
Now,” Mina said in a louder voice. She glanced at the other
families eating and playing in the cobbled courtyard. No one looked
up.
Charlie
aped his way through some more obstacles, entered into a trampoline
chamber and began jumping. Mina watched his movements from outside. Her head bobbed along with him, but her feet were pacing back and forth like a tiger in a zoo exhibit. She alternately wrung her hands, and used them to cover her face.
“We
have to go shopping now. We don’t have time for this,” she said
with a squeak.
“But
look how high I can go.” He leaped again and stretched out his neck,
pushing his nose even higher into the air.
“I
need you to help me reach things and put them in the cart.” Mina
moved to the entrance and made motions of going in after him. She
could only fit one arm or leg through the small opening at a time.
She returned to her position outside the safety-net wall and said, “I’ll
get purple grapes and let you have some before we get to the
checkout.”
“I’m
full. Watch me do a flip.”
The
mother sighed, took a step back and blocked the summer glare with a
forearm. Charlie sprang into the air, threw his shoulders back and
toppled onto his face, his little legs still in the air.
“Oh,”
Mina gasped, and her hand went to her heart.
“I’m
okay,” Charlie said, standing up and falling again as other
children continued to bounce and upset the springy floorboard.
“Charles Nathaniel,” Mina barked, setting her shoulders back and stamping a
foot, “you get your shoes on this instant.”
Charlie
got to his feet and worked his way out of the maze as quickly as if he were racing.
“Push,”
Mina said with a hand on Charlie’s heel. Scowling, she
double-knotted the bows of the laces.
“Can
we come back tomorrow?” Charlie asked. His eyes fixed on the climbing arena.
“You want to eat here three times this week> Now, what kind of mother would that make me?”
