I was inspired today...
On a road somewhere in Indiana, the charter bus was quiet, with the exception of a little girl laughing.
I could see nothing. But I could here her clearly. Her giggle was so precise and free. With my eyes half open I could see the shadowed silhouette of the little girl next to me.
I was on the bus listening to "Internal Flight" by Estas Tonne when I had fell into a sleep. Now, half awake, Tonne's music and the little girl's laughter were just the right mix of noise and beauty. I awake and gather myself in the bus chair. Next to me, the little girl appears to be 2 or 3 years old playing on a man's lap. I assumed it was her father. She wore a pink jumpsuit with a white stripe down the side. Her hair was red-brown with untamed curls growing beautiful and free. The man had a dark gray t-shirt on with jeans, he had short black hair. Both of them with heavy tan colored skin, maybe black, bi-racial, or dominican. She was kneeling in his lap facing him.
Without a care in the world, without fear, without any doubt she would quickly lean herself so far backwards with her head leading her body and away from him. He would catch her in his arms and pull her close. As she threw herself backwards she would let out a loud and cheerful scream and return to his chest kneeling up right in a fit of giggles. Then she would calm down, look him in the eyes and repeat the same maneuver. Her father waited each time and allowed her to continue without rest.
I observed them with a gentle smile, feeling the bond between them, their love together, and of course her laughter. I watched her do it over and over again, and watched her father catch her without fail. Then she saw me watching her and smiling. She twisted her body to me and reached both arms out to me the way a little child does when they want to be picked up or held. The father pulled her back as if to say to her not to bother or annoy me. She looked at her father, then looked back at me. She reached out to me again with the warmest smile on her face. How could I be bothered by such pure joy and innocence? I looked at the father kindly and without uttering a word he knew it was okay with me. The father allowed his baby girl to transfer herself to my lap in the same position. Kneeling with her knees on my legs, facing me, she held my shoulders and braced herself. She gave me a few seconds to prepare, her smile opened wide as she suddenly, without fear, without care, without a doubt in the world trusted in me.
With a loud and joyous scream She threw her head back and leaned back so quickly with force and I caught her as her father did and she giggled and laughed. I laughed with her. I pulled her back up and in close, and she did it over and over again. While she kept on I asked her father "What is her name?" He told me her name was Benice (pronounce like "B-Nice"). I was thrown off at first by the pronunciation as it sounded like an MC name or a rapper from the 1980's. She continued to giggle and enjoy herself. I looked back at the father and he had a worried face, as if he were afraid, truly afraid or bothered by a sudden thought of misfortune or something terrible. I asked him, "What's wrong?" He looks at me and said, "I never had to catch her before." It was such an odd moment. I wasn't sure what he meant but assumed he was talking about catching her while she played on his lap. His worried face said more than just that to me, I seem to have shared his worry with him even though I had no idea what it truly was.
I tried to break the air. I asked him if he had any other kids. He told me yes and that he has a son who is 30 ears old. I asked him what is his son's name? He told me his name is Aniki (pronounced like A-knee-key). I repeated his son's name to him to be sure I heard him correctly. The father nodded at me to confirm.
Aniki. Aniki. Aniki, the name kept repeating in my head as his daughter repeating to throw herself back and I continued to catch her. I looked at the father again, and it was not until that moment I realized how young he looked. He was still in his 20's at best. Maybe late 20's and that would be generous. I stayed quiet. I said nothing aloud. In my mind I was asking myself how this man could have a 30 year old child. The moment seemed so distorted.
Then I woke up for real on the Greyhound bus headed to Toma, Wisconsin. I woke up, sitting by myself in the front seat. I immediately looked to my right to see the father and his daughter. No Benice, no man, no more name repeating in my head. I looked around and across the aisle to another passenger. I made sure my eyes were open before I looked again. Then I looked over to the side where in my dream they sat, as if to confirm to myself that it was all a dream. Oddly I could still vision them as they were in my dream. I had to give myself a minute or two to process it all. In the waking seconds I was sure they WERE truly physically there.
I was lucky and blessed to remember this dream, as I very rarely dream and remember.
The End.
