Park Ave 2

The children painting  Age 20

I walk by the park on my way to pick up bolillos and pan dulce. I cut across through the grass and stop by the usual smoke spot to watch the trees and have a cigarette. As I walk towards the once abandoned stage, I see children gathered, orchestrating a mural with tiny hands and giant brushes. There’s a bright green table; on top there is a  jug of water with sliced strawberries and blueberries, aside them small cups of yogurts with berries on top. I walk up to the group of adults and ask, “What’s up with this?”  

A woman with a high ponytail and very defined cheekbones replied, “Oh the kids are painting a mural to honor their Aztec heritage, would you like to join?” 

I force a laugh and feel my face burn up , “Yeah I’d love to” She hands me a brush and asks me to fill the blank spaces with yellow paint. 

When I was their age, I learned how to jump fences.

Shit Boyfriend Shit Comfort  Age 15

I’m at the park waiting for Andy. Now, it’s midnight, two hours after I took off from home. Dad showed up drunk beginning his usual routine of berating until escalated and I would rather not be around. I’m sitting on top of the stage and start listening to some edgy punk song that I think is the only thing that understands me. 

It’s cold and the shroud of towering trees prevents the moonlight from reaching me. I look at my phone, no text. My eyes start to water after 40 minutes of waiting for him. Three guys walk up  to where I’m sitting. All of them in big black hoodies. They huddle up two feet away from me and start passing a blunt. 

I hide my face and tears behind my hair and obsessively check my phone for Andy who hasn’t shown up. They keep staring up and smiling at me, I’m cold. 

I get a text it’s Andy, “Can't. Moms still awake and in the living room. I’ll see you later!” 

I walk over to the swing set to figure out what to do next. I go to the same swing I always go to; as a kid I would swing so high and pretend I was going to soar on top of the houses in front of the park. 

One of the guys comes up to my swing and I feel his eyes watching me waiting to acknowledge him. “What’s up?” 

He responds with, “Ey, you look like you going through it.” He reaches his hands as he pinches the rest of the blunt. I take it,  put it to my lips and inhale.

Women with Umbrellas Age 7

I love walking home from school. No one knows where I am or what I’m doing, I’m my own person. I love walking into the park and sitting on the grass reading the chapter on a book I wasn’t able to finish during my Accelerated Reader Time in school. I see rows of older women standing under large beach ball colored umbrellas. One is with two young boys and a table full of Rice Krispies, Fruit Roll Ups, and various snacks all prices ranging from about 10 cents to a dollar.  Another with no children but a cart full of cut fruit in cups and boxes; there is chamoy and tajin latched on to her cart. One woman set up her own umbrella by her van. In there a storage of steamy tamales and hot champurrado ready to warm up the day of anyone who was lucky enough to buy some before they were out. I take out the quarters I stole from my sister's car this morning and buy myself candies and chips and lay them on my backpack and read. This is my own picnic.

Park Clean Up Age 17

Alyssa and I walk down to the park with two large black bags and black gloves. We met up with some local organization that set up random cleaning crews for cleaning our town. Alyssa and I start scanning and picking up giant pieces of trash we find. We make a competition just like when we were kids. Instead of searching for shapes of rocks and leaves we were looking for cigarette butts. After an hour of search, we stop and compare our finds. I have 25 cigarette butts. Alyssa wins by a landslide with 48 cigarette butts. We look at our findings and wonder how many of those cigarette butts were ours.

Dad Takes me to The Park -Age 4

My mom is having another episode. My big brother takes it away and locks her in a room and orders my dad to take me out. He drives us 3 blocks down to the park by our house. I’m excited to go to the park because no one usually takes me, and it looks so fun. He takes me out of the car and tells me to go play. He makes his way to the benches and looks at his phone. I’m climbing up the slide into the playground bridge. I see a girl there and I ask her to play.

 We play “follow the leader” and I mimic and follow her every move. She hops on one leg to climb the monkey bar ladder and makes it to the top flawlessly. I try, my foot slips and I fall onto the ladder one leg on each side and down to the ground. 

I’m hurt but I pretend to be okay and keep playing. It's time to go home and dad puts me into the car, and we come home. Things are calmer. My sister changes my pull up diaper and notices a blood she can recognize; she starts to cry. I’m confused until I see officers arrest my dad. I know they won’t let me come back to the park anymore.

About the author
  The author is Lizette Gonzalez and her hometown is Pomona, California.