The Park
A story by Joe Catford
Browse all of the stories produced at Guardian Summer School here
Vivienne felt empty as she trudged wearily through the desolate and decaying husk of her childhood, the once resplendent crimsons and violets of the flowerbeds; now they were now swamped by weeds, what flowers were left were a sickly yellow. She grimaced as the pain in her arthritic knee intensified, she was nearly there, she would have to find a bench once she had found it. A shrunken oak stood apologetically in the middle of the park as though it could barely hold its own weight. Once it had been the centre of her universe, so enormous she could barely see its top. Now it looked as tired as she felt. As the pain in her knee began to ease she thought of the time she spent with her father in Heatherston Park.
“Viv we’re here, wake up princess”
Vivienne peered out of sleepy eyes to seeing her father grinning at her.
“We’re where?” murmured Vivienne
“come on sleepy, let’s get you an ice-cream I want to see this park your mum was going on about” her father picks her up and gently carries her off the train.
Walking through the park with her father Vivienne was intoxicated by the colours and the smells of the flowerbeds, running ahead of her father she painstakingly examined as many of them as she possibly could. She stopped as she saw the oak tree at the centre of the park, she remembered a sense of complete awe that something could be that huge, its emerald leaves were dragons’ wings and the curled branches were its claws, its bark impenetrable scales. She stood there for what must have been an eternity gazing open-mouthed.
“Big isn’t it” her father observed rubbing her head. “Come on Viv let’s get back its about to rain”
Vivienne looked at him aghast, she shook her head, letting go of her father’s hand and ran towards the flowerbeds at the other end of the park. Her father shouting for her to come back whilst Vivienne in the midst of a flowerbed. After a while she heard the heavy breath of her father. She was wrenched forcefully to her feet with a tight grip on her arm.
“what the hell were you playing, you scared me Viv”
“you said we had all day” Vivienne sniffed avoiding eye contact.
The vice on her arm relaxes, “we did but then the ran decided to ruin our fun. We’ll come back soon. Promise”
When her father’s work schedule allowed they would visit the park as much as possible. The splendour of the park seemed as though it were timeless. With every visit her enthrallment with the place flourished in the same way its flowers did in summer. When she began to learn about the natural world in school what she saw in Heatherston seemed miraculous, she was captivated by the way the ground keepers could direct nature and create masterpieces.
Gradually Vivienne noticed that her father seem far less enthusiastic about their trips. At first he would take longer to when she called him when it was time to get the train to Heatherson and gradually he became quite irritable and distant with her. The enchantment of that dream-like time was shattered utterly.
“How the hell do you think I’m able to waste a day in a bloody park , are you the one working their arse off? You take her!”.
After overhearing that conversation Vivienne could barely look her father in the eye and the rare trips to Heatherston were spent in a steely silence, praying silently for the fairy tale world of her childhood to return. The flowerbeds had lost their old majesty, the colours that had seemed so exotic and dreamlike were now seemed faded and overly garish. The smell of spring that had overwhelmed her with sweetness was now sharp and dry like sandpaper in her lungs. The sight of the oak no longer stopped her in her tracks, it was now just an old tree, she began to notice how colourless and small it actually was. If something so perfect, so constant could be lost, how could she keep anything with meaning?
Sitting on a park bench surrounded by memories of her father, Vivienne for the first time felt a great sense of peace. She respected her father greatly for what he had given her, that could never be taken away. She had not fully understood the strain that time away from work had caused her father and now regretted that she had cut all ties with him. She had taken the two-hour train journey to Heatherston purely out of curiosity and had felt compelled to see the park a final time before leaving the country.
Getting up walked towards the oak tree and slowly leaned her forehead against its now crusted bark. She shed a single tear “thank you dear friend” she whispered.
