He’ll have to do.
“What’s your name?” she heard herself saying. The words came out oddly distant, like she was hearing someone else talk. “I think I’d like to know the name of someone as special as you.” Her words dripped with all the honey she could cover them in. Kids weren’t her forte. This was not ideal.
“Daniel!” he said, dropping the book back to his lap and beaming up at her again. His hair scattered with the motion, catching glimmers of light from the street. At the start of the day, it’d probably been neatly brushed. After a few hours spent sitting by the tree, though, it was coated with bits of bark and dirt. Here and there, a pine needle protruded from between the black clumps of it.
“Daniel, eh? Well, that’s a good name. That’s a great name.” She lifted a hand towards her collar as she spoke, pulling a fine-wrought chain free.
Whatever Daniel had been about to say, it was forgotten in an instant as a tiny, golden pendant bounced to a stop between them. His brown eyes were perfectly round, fixed on the necklace.
She smiled, despite herself. “I’m afraid I have to go, Daniel. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk longer. But I think I’d like to talk to you again. Maybe next time I’ll bring my favorite book. Does that sound like fun?”
“You like books too?” Daniel said. His face lit up, blindingly bright and earnest.
She faltered. Her smile fractured, coming within an inch of falling away entirely - but she forced it back into place. “I do,” she whispered. And then she cleared her throat. “I definitely do enjoy reading, Daniel. So how about you hold onto this for me until then?” She winked, her smile turning conspiratorial. “Us book-lovers have to stick together.”
He giggled, bobbing his head in a nod. It was the work of a moment to slip the chain around his neck, tucking the pendant safely under his shirt. Her skin prickled as the metal left her grasp.
She could feel the eyes on her, burning a hole in the back of her neck. The others in the park wouldn’t think too much of an old woman like her sharing a word with a child. Probably. She’d probably look like nothing more suspicious than his grandmother come to pick him up. But the longer she lingered, the greater the risk.
And through it all, her chest screamed its complaint. The pain was still growing, building stronger and stronger until she didn’t know how much longer she could bear it.
Her time was up.
She straightened, transfixed by the gentle glimmer of the necklace’s chain barely poking out from under his shirt. “You should get going,” she said, her voice taking on a raspy edge. “It’s getting dark. Your family will worry, won’t they?” Her expression softened. Deep wrinkles sank into her skin. “Maybe I’ll see you again. Now get!”
Her hand raised on the last. He sprang to his feet as if she’d actually struck him, grabbing his book and tucking it into a tiny, plastic-sided backpack he’d put behind him. “Y-Yeah!”
There. That was all she could do. She turned, scanning the park, but every breath was pure agony. Escape that way was no longer an option. Slowly, reluctantly, she took a step towards the woods.
“Oh!”
She froze, half-turning at the sound of the boy’s cry. Daniel stood a few paces from his tree, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was still grinning, but it was more sheepish than before. “I forgot. Mom said- I’m supposed to be polite.” He thrust his hand out towards her, fingers wide. “I’m Daniel. What’s your name?”
Her heart ached. The spectacle of him standing there waiting to shake hands was nearly enough to break her. His parents were nothing if not thorough, she thought with a wry chuckle.
And then she reached out, taking his hand in hers and giving it a good shake.
“My name is Jean.”
* * * * *
Daniel ran, the bag on his back bouncing with each hasty step. The trees pressed in close on either side of him. The noises of the park faded into the background until it was just him and the forest.
He stopped, though, pausing to look back over his shoulder.
Miss Jean was just a distant shape, a few strands of her silver hair gleaming in the growing sunset as she walked away. She was already halfway into the trees on the far side of the woodchips. He stared after her, his smile fading as confusion took its place. There were only more woods in that direction, nothing more. And she looked...odd. Her steps were slow, her shoulders slumped.
But his excitement at the events of the night was too complete for Daniel to worry over little details. He’d made a friend - and the thought of showing his mother the pendant he’d been given outweighed any worries. He turned on his heel, racing off along the little dirt path that wound its way through the woods. His head pounded, thrumming with the pulse that thundered in his ears.
It grew as he ran for home, following the same path he’d sprinted down a hundred times before. His skin prickled too, simmering with a heat that built by the second. Daniel’s
