It was just one of those days. Days that were rare. When everything was just perfect, and day-to-day worries seemed far away. On days like this, it was hard for anything to break the spell, because the depth of feeling in the heart was just so darn stubborn.
Chris Woodley closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and let the rays of the sun penetrate the skin of his face. It felt so good.
Central Park was heaven, a veritable oasis in the center of one of the most vibrant cities in the world. The sun felt so much better here than even in his own backyard.
They had brought lounge chairs with them, but he liked this better—lazing around on the blanket they had enjoyed their picnic lunch on mere minutes before. They’d eaten late, because there had just been too many things to do today. A nice problem to have.
Chris glanced at his watch—just after 3:00. Two more hours of sunshine left—a lifetime. And it was Sunday, so traffic would be light driving home.
No, not even traffic would be given the opportunity to ruin this day.
Suddenly, the rays of sunshine were blocked, and he felt soft hands gently stroking his face. He knew the touch of those hands—they could only belong to one person. He opened his eyes and saw the upside-down image of his wife standing behind him, gazing down at him with an upside-down smile.
He stretched his hands up and grabbed her around the waist. Pulled her down and flipped her forward in a somersault. Sheila landed softly in his lap and Chris wrapped his arms around her, nestling his cheek into her soft, blonde hair.
She murmured in a dreamy voice. “I don’t want to leave here today, Chris. It’s too bad they don’t let people camp out.”
“I know. It is idyllic, isn’t it? The sun’s shining, it’s nice and warm, and the kids are having fun. It sure is a good day to live in New York.”
Sheila turned around to face him. “What was your favorite part of the day?”
“I think it’s right at this moment, looking at you.”
She smiled. “Oh, aren’t you the sweet talker. Those words aren’t going to get you out of dinner tonight, though. You promised to give me an evening out of the kitchen, so you’d better get your mind psyched up to barbecue.”
He kissed her moist lips. “Sheila, darling, I always deliver on my promises. But—maybe I could order pizza instead?”
She playfully slapped his shoulder. “No! I want one of your patented barbecue dinners, you lazy bum!”
“Okay, okay. It’s just that after a day like this, it’s hard to think of actually doing anything.”
“It’s true, I agree with you on that. So, again, what was your favorite thing today? Tell me.”
Chris pondered this for a moment. “I’d have to say the boats. You and I in one boat, the kids in the other. They were so thrilled to be rowing their own boat, and I was thrilled to be your servant, rowing you.”
A look of mischief crossed Chris’ face. “Which reminds me, I want to row you in a different way when we get home…”
She slapped him again, wearing a mock frown on her face. “You’re still as randy as when we were newlyweds.”
He kissed her lips again. “You love it.”
Sheila kissed him back, slipping her tongue inside his open mouth. She moaned, “Yes, I do.”
Chris pulled away and gazed into her sultry hazel eyes. “You haven’t told me what your favorite part of today was.”
“We haven’t experienced it yet. It’ll be when you grill my steak medium rare.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny. Well, it’ll taste so darn good that it will indeed be the highlight of your day. So there!”
Sheila rubbed his shoulder. “I loved the puppet show at the Summer Stage. And what I loved most was just watching Hayley’s face. She was so enthralled. And after the show she asked me if we could buy her a couple of puppets so she can put on her own shows at home just for us. Isn’t that sweet?”
“It is—and we’ll have to do that. We’ll get her some puppets, and I’ll make a stage for her that she can hide behind for her shows.”
“Oh, she’ll love that.”
“Maybe even Josh will be proud of her—but I doubt it. He wasn’t too happy about the puppet show, probably because we made him sit and be quiet.”
“Well, he’s twelve and Hayley’s only eight. So, I didn’t really think he’d like the show all that much. But it does teach him patience and tolerance, which are good lessons.”
Chris nodded. “He did light up though when that stupid rap group was playing at the Band Shell. That’s when I myself had to learn patience and tolerance.”
“I know, I know. I plugged my ears when they came on.”
“But, luckily, both kids enjoyed the Turtle Pond. That was amazing, huh? Seeing all those turtles and fish? Josh wanted to wade in and catch one of them—that’s when I had to have a little talk with him about conservation and preserving nature. I don’t think he listened too well, because it took a while for him to wipe the pout off his face. I think when we buy Hayley her puppets, we’ll have to get Josh some turtles.”
Sheila made a face. “I’m pouting now, see? What do I get for my pout?”
Chris rubbed her shoulders. “You get a steak, medium rare, and you get me rowing the boat again later on in bed.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to settle for that, then.”
They both looked over in the direction of the open field. Josh was playing Frisbee with one of the kids he’d met. Young boys made friends so easily, Chris thought. Sport was the common bond, and he was glad that Josh was athletic.
Josh must have sensed that Chris was watching, because he looked over and waved. Chris waved, too, and then motioned for him to come back to them.
Josh ran over, his face adorned with yet another sulk. He whined, “Dad, I’m playing. What do you want?”
“It’s okay—you can go back in a second. I thought your sister was with you. Where did she go?”
“She was hanging with me, but she got bored with Frisbee—as usual. She rode her bike over to that stupid Alice statue.” Josh pointed to the east side of the park, a contemptuous look on his face.
Chris looked in the direction of his pointing finger.
“Ah, I see her. Great. You can go back and play now, Josh.”
Chris was relieved to see Hayley happily riding in circles around the giant Alice in Wonderland statue. One of her favorite things about Central Park.
She was such a little sweetheart—his little angel. Chris thanked God every morning for the blessings he had. Two wonderful kids and the woman of his dreams. He had a good job, too, but, well, that wasn’t exactly a blessing. More like a necessary evil.
This was what was most important—here, in Central Park, with his family.
Suddenly, there was an eerie silence.
It was almost like he was wearing ear plugs. The laughter and excited screams from all the children stopped and the steady hum of adult conversation had abated. Just a stillness now—not even the chirping of birds. And while the disturbing silence only lasted a couple of seconds, it seemed so much longer than that.
Josh hadn’t gone back to play with his friends. He was still standing beside them, but his mouth looked to be frozen in the open position, eyes wide with wonder. He was looking north.
Sheila also faced north, and her slender hands were now covering her mouth. And like Josh, her eyes were wide, too—much wider than Chris had ever remembered seeing them.
But, they weren’t wide with wonder. They were wide with horror.
Chris followed their eyes. And he couldn’t believe what his own were telling him.
Soaring over the Reservoir, heading straight in their direction, was a plane. But not just any plane. This was a monster. A jumbo jet, flying low, probably no more than 100 feet above the water.
And strangely, the plane wasn’t making a sound. Which made it even more sinister.
Suddenly, the silence was broken, replaced by screaming and yelling, the sounds of bicycles falling to the pathway, strollers and picnic baskets being tipped over, feet thumping on the ground desperately seeking out escape routes.
It took a couple of seconds for Chris to process what he was seeing. It didn’t seem real, couldn’t be real.
But, it was.
Chris jumped to his feet and tried to pull Sheila up from her kneeling position. He could feel her body quivering. He slapped her. Once. Twice.
“Sheila!”
She shook her head, but thankfully allowed Chris to lift her. Josh was still just standing there, staring to the north.
Chris pointed to the west. “Sheila! Josh! Run that way! Fast!”
For a second, neither of them reacted. Then, Josh suddenly came alive.
“Dad, my sister!” He turned and started to run in the direction of the Alice statue. Chris reached out and grabbed him by the belt, holding him tight.
“No! Look after your mother! Run! I’ll get your sister!”
Josh nodded, took one last glance to the north and then wrapped his arms around his mother’s shoulders. “Mom! We have to get out of here! Now!”
Chris was relieved to see her react. She nodded, and even though she still seemed to be in shock, she obeyed her son. He watched as they ran together towards the west end of the park.
Chris spun around and raced to the east.
A jumble of questions were running through his mind. What would a plane be doing over this way? Why was it flying so low? Was this another 9/11?
He glanced back and saw that it was approaching fast. It seemed to have turned slightly, seemed to be following him towards Hayley.
Chris ran as fast as his legs would allow. He’d been a sprinter in college, but that had been a long time ago.
Nevertheless, he summoned that adrenaline now, that feeling of competition.
Pretended to see the tape at the finish line.
And the finish line was Alice in Wonderland.
Hayley was still riding around in circles, intent on making them as tight as she could. Concentrating on her balance. Oblivious to the silent monster that was closing in on her.
Chris yelled. “Hayley!”
She didn’t hear him. Hayley just kept riding.
The screams from the crowd were deafening now—he was surprised that Hayley didn’t hear them. People were running in every direction, stumbling and falling to the ground, curling up into balls and covering their heads.
Chris kept running.
He dodged a large family doing a group hug, and hurdled over an old man who’d fallen to the ground. He noticed the eyes of the picnickers, all of them reflecting the horror he felt.
Chris kept running.
He was close now. He yelled out Hayley’s name again.
This time, she heard him. She stopped and looked back. Then she looked upwards and her mouth opened wide, looking as if she wanted to scream. But, it was just a silent scream—she couldn’t find the sound.
Chris took one final look over his shoulder as he ran, hoping against hope that the plane had veered off.
But, it hadn’t.
His heart felt like it was going to pound right out of his chest, and his legs felt rubbery—the sudden side effects of what he’d just seen.
He’d taken it all in with only one quick look. The hauntingly silent jumbo jet, with its nose almost running up Chris’ ass, was only about ten feet off the ground. It was headed right for Hayley who was standing frozen, stiff as a board, straddling her little pink bicycle.
And Chris fixated on one other strange thing he’d noticed in his last glance. The landing gear wasn’t down. The massive plane was going to crash land on its belly, taking him and Hayley with it. Why he thought about landing gear at this point, Chris had no idea. It wasn’t as if the landing gear would make any difference now, one way or the other.
Well, if this is the way they were meant to go, so be it. At least his daughter would die wrapped in his arms. They would die together.
Chris dove through the air, hands extended outwards, then curling around his daughter. He felt the trembling in Hayley’s soft body as he encased her in his arms; both of them united as one.
They tumbled over the little pink bike and crashed to the ground.
The silent monster arrived.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
Like a ghost.
It had been on top of them, absorbing them—and then it simply disappeared.
For that weird instant, Chris sensed that they were enveloped in a sort of fog. Everything became blurry and hazy; almost as if they were in a bubble, assuming he could imagine what being in a bubble was like.
Are we dead? Is this heaven?