As an emerging writer, H. P. MASON's love for the written word has found
its match within imagination's soul, creating expressions of thought, desire, and emotion through poetry and prose. Inspiration arises from nature's ever-changing harmonies and through quiet meditation.
saturday in the park
Leona Lyon could not recall a more perfect afternoon. It was mid-October. The sun was shining in a cloudless blue sky and cool breezes played through the colorful leaves.
Brochures, advertising a new park, had come in the mail last month. It was a short drive from home. She and her son, Daniel, had arrived before the gates opened. It was Saturday. Her husband had taken their older boy fishing.
The park was perfect. Amusements included a carousel and bumper cars, as well as swings and slides. Leona took Danny rowing on the pond. Later, she watched with delight as he played cowboy. An attendant led the plodding pony around a ring, but Danny was as thrilled as if he were galloping across the prairie.
He played on the swings as Leona packed up the remains of their picnic. She looked fondly at her little boy, with his unruly blonde hair, so like her own, before it had turned prematurely white.
She was enjoying this beautiful park. The view of the mountains was spectacular, as were the gardens of chrysanthemums and other flowers.
There was no admission charge and even the rides were free. It closed rather early-promptly at four o'clock, according to the sign at the gate. Reminders were posted throughout the park and each family had to sign a release before entering. That was odd, but this was the age of lawsuits. If a child fell and broke an arm or even a finger, the family could sue for any outrageous amount. It wasn't that strange, after all.
A church bell tolled three times. Leona began to think about leaving. Why does the park close so early? The sun is still bright and we're having such fun. It's a pity to go so soon. George and Timmy won't be back for hours. Perhaps we'll stop for an ice cream on the way home.
At last Leona stood up and called Danny.
He didn't come and she couldn't see him. Worried, she began to look for him.
By now, others were walking towards the gate. Leona looked at her watch. It read three-thirty. There was still time. And anyway, she thought, what would they do if she was a few minutes late - lock them in?
She walked towards a clump of trees, calling Danny's name. She thought she heard him shouting and ran towards the sound of his voice.
BONG!
The church bell was tolling! Leona checked her watch. It had stopped! Danny was screaming!
BONG!
Leona's feet sank into soft earth. She struggled with all her strength but couldn't extricate them. She was rooted to the spot!
BONG!
Danny had stopped screaming. Leona felt numb all over. She looked down but couldn't see her body - only a mass of jagged green leaves.
BONG!
Her vision blurred. The last sound she heard was the roar of a lawnmower.
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© 2002-2003 H.P. Mason
