“Playground” — A Short Story

“Does it explain that then?” asked the bartender. He pulled out the burning cigar from his mouth and knocked off the ashes into a yellow ashtray. He had an antique clock-like figure, and time has obviously not been kind to his face. The bartender has been running “L’Asile Rousseau” for as long as he could remember; most of his troubled customers often left tranquilly.

“Partly,” said the man. He placed his hand on his left thigh, shifted comfortably in his seat, and silently tried to recall old memories. “But this is another story.”

“You’ve still got time,” said the bartender.

“Well, if you must know, it was when my brother and I were brought to this orphanage. Quite a dreadful place, really, like the Aisne. There was this giant mansion to house all the countless troops of children. Some of them were smart, some were always timid, and the others, they were infuriated with everyone else and themselves for being there. It was the angry ones that created the mad house I lived in.”

The bartender flicked his cigar over the ashtray. “Go on.”

“And just being there was difficult. Being alive, I mean. But my brother and I, we got each other’s back the entire time. Our alliance was our survival tool. We had to be brothers in arms. We had to. Or else the bullies would’ve given us much trouble,” said the man.

“Much much trouble,” said the other man.

“The two of us were living along just fine in the orphanage, until one evening. While I was playing with my brother and the other children in the backyard, the bullies suddenly came out of nowhere and decided to chase after us. They threw rocks that showered upon our frail bodies like hail. A lot of children were badly injured, some even screamed in pain. And to think that everything happened swiftly like lightning,” said the man.

“And what about you and your brother?” asked the bartender. “What did the both of you do?”

“We ran for our sake,” said the man. “And we hid inside this deep, wide gap, which has always been our hideout incase of events like that.”

“What about your — ,”

“He will get to it soon,” said the other man.

“Later when I climbed out to scout for the presence of those bullies, I saw no one and thought we were in the clear. I was wrong. I turned a corner around the gap and, immediately, one of the biggest, roundest children in the orphanage stepped onto my left foot. ‘Try anything and you will die!’ he told me. I felt petrified and immobilized. I knew that if I moved, I would have lost an entire leg,” said the man.

“Good thing it wasn’t entirely,” said the bartender. His cigar is almost running out. A minuscule Everest formed in his ashtray. “What happened next?”

“My brother saw the situation and attempted to disarm the big child. He jumped onto the big one, who lost balance, fell down, and snapped my leg bone in half. The intensity of the pain I felt was ineffable. Truly, I wished that I was dead right then and there. But things only got worse when the matron of the orphanage caught sight of the commotion. And guess what, she deemed my brother as the guilty one.”

“The bar is closing soon,” said the bartender. “But do go on.”

“Okay. Anyhow, long story short from there. The matron sent my brother to some undisclosed place so we haven’t seen each other since. And the orphanage…well, they tried to save my leg, but necrosis had already devoured it like a lion,” said the man. “I was named ‘Three Legs’ from that week onward.”

“I see. So, where is your brother now?” asked the bartender.

“From what I’m led to believe by the rumors, he’s in a new place where rooms are entirely built out of pine.” said the man. “I’m sure that’s wonderful.”

The man took his wooden crutches and picked himself up from his seat. The bartender stood still and watched the man slowly limp himself towards the entrance of the bar.

“Thank you for sharing that. I’ll see you again soon,” said the bartender.

The man halted, he tightened his grip on the doorknob, and turned around.

“Monsieur, it is rude to only say goodbye to one but not the other, non?” said the other man.