Surprise
Reuniting was painfully infrequent and then only when dreams allowed.
Andy’s gloved hand and outstretched arm stabbed at the ball which was carefully lobbed to him by his father. Missing it time and time again he gleefully chased after it as if it was part of the game. Retrieving the ball, he cranked his arm back and galloped towards his dad closer, and closer threatening throwing it at each interval until catapulting it, as only a four-year-old could, at an uncomfortably close distance. Andy laughed uncontrollably at his dad who recoiled awkwardly, half protecting himself and half attempting to catch the ball, unsure of when it would be released or which direction it would take. Once the ball was caught or recovered, Ward would then encourage Andy to back up a few feet so he could toss the plastic wiffle ball again, aiming for the glove in hopes of landing it and crediting Andy with the catch. As the ball appeared to finally rest in Andy’s glove, “WARD. WARD. WARD…” Irene summoned him from his slumber, “Come help hang the tire swing for the kids.”
Disappointed that his time with Andy was cut short, Ward sighed and reached over the side of the hammock for the beer he conveniently left within reach. He quickly recoiled when instead of the plastic cup, his hand found the furry back of Lauryn’s dog, Kitten, who was helping herself to the unattended beverage. “Get out of here, dog!” He scolded Kitten. It was no secret, and Ward made no apologies for his stance that he had no use for animals as pets. He considered them a nuisance and expense. He tolerated Kitten – but not by much.
As Ward sat up, he noticed the large empty hammock box and unopened assembly instructions resting nearby. Lauryn had purchased the hammock for him for his surprise birthday party. He didn’t want the party nor the hammock. He processed the idea of keeping the box and returning the hammock, but only briefly. Lauryn was enthusiastic about giving it to him and encouraged him to put it together and test it out. Out of politeness to his daughter, he thanked her and told her he looked forward to resting on it. Ward cussed under his breath as he jabbed the black metal tubes together which had heated to blistering temperatures in the mid-day sun. He continued to grumble once the frame was erected certain the mesh body was too short to span the distance between the connecting rings. When he was finally able to link the swing spring, he lay on the hammock, keeping one foot on the ground, suspicious it would spin 180 degrees and dump him onto the lawn. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep.
“Ward, are you coming?” Irene continued to plead with him. Ward glanced at the frothy whiskers of Kitten and his spilled cup of beer before assuring her, “Yes. I’m coming.” He heard the children’s shrieks of excitement as they anticipated riding the swing. “You guys stand back now,” Ricky cautioned the kids as he made yet another ill attempt at tossing the heavy rope over the thick branch some twenty feet in the air. With each missed toss, the downward rope attacked like a menacing serpent chasing the children out of its reach, the sound of its cascade resembling the riffled shuffle of a deck of cards. Ricky saw Ward approaching and made a desperate final attempt to clear the branch - with similar failed results. “You think you can toss that rope over that branch old man, then go for it,” he challenged Ward. Refusing to dignify the remark or get into a verbal tether, Ward ignored Ricky - as usual.
Ward reached up and scratched his head behind his ear as was his peculiar habit of buying some time when thinking through a problem. He noticed the ball of string on the ground sitting next to kite. He grabbed the sting, let out twenty or so feet, and as if tossing a grenade, lobbed the spool up and over the branch. He tied the end of the heavy rope to the string and carefully fed it up with one hand, while pulling the string with the other. “I’m gonna get another beer,” Ricky announced as he departed, refusing to acknowledge Ward’s obvious success. Once the large rope was up and over the branch, Ward secured the tire to it, then hoisted it up a couple feet off the ground with the opposite end of the rope, which he then tied to the base of the tree. As the children raced to the swing and proclaimed their turn, Irene smiled at Ward and mouthed, “Thank you.”