Bane

December 31, 1970

New Year's Eve at Twin Knolls Park was the same as it was every year; cold, wet, and somewhat frosty.

It was very frosty. Icy even.

Every year the parks department promised to remember not to run the sprinklers, and every year to present, they failed to uphold the promise.
While it never snowed in Driftwood, California, for some reason on New Year's Eve, after the sprinklers were done sprinkling, and the park lawn done being watered, it never failed to see the ice crystals shimmer over every individual blade of grass, every leaflet of every tree, across the bark, and flowers in the park gardens; there were no white Christmases in Driftwood... but the shimmering faceted crystals always delivered leading into the new year; they always delivered, and how they glittered beneath the colorful display of fireworks when one past midnight struck the clock in the tower at city hall.

Every year since he could remember, Jonathan - bundled in his many layers - spent the festivities alongside Nadjia. They would play until they were too tired to play, and then sit on the icy knoll an watch the sky until they were too cold to merely sit. Moms, and dads would apply liberal sums of warmth in layers of wool blankets, and there Jonathan and Nadjia would fight sleep - and fail - into the new year.

Last year Jonathan fell asleep first, bundled beneath all those blankets, and Nadjia sneaked up to him, kissed his cheek and fell asleep on his shoulder.

Moms, and dads didn't know.

Jonathan didn't know, and Nadjia never told.

Far as he knew, they fell asleep the same as every year.

...but this year was different.

They were seven now, and sleep could not, in no uncertain terms, ever conquer the will of a seven year old.

Not when there was night time, and plants that glittered like treasure, and fireworks, and the most important part of course, being right there in the moment with your best friend in the whole wide world.

They still played in the park... but they didn't play the way they used to; somewhere along the way the park toys grew too small to play.

They chased one another, and never grew tired of the chase. Nadjia would tag Jonathan, and run - perhaps a little slowly - and Jonathan would tag Nadjia, and play duck, and dodge. He would roll, an weave, moving with incredible reflexes.

...yet Nadjia somehow always managed to tag - and catch him, anticipating his next moves with uncanny perception, somehow knowing his next moves within ten steps of tagging her.

Jonathan, of course did not get it, the thick headed boy. Nadjia let him catch her.

She allowed it.

They were having easily the best time they had ever, and then for no particular reason, Jonathan crossed a line; there were boy jokes, and girl jokes, and jokes shared between boys and girls.

Jonathan licked his finger and wiped it on Nadjia's nose.

He declared her it, and said she had his germs.

Nadjia was in no way amused.

✟ ☧ ✟

"Nadjia!" Jonathan's voice echoed through the park, carrying through the frost glittering juniper pines. "Nadjia, come out! We're going to get into big trouble if you don't come out and show yourself!"

"You're a big jerk, Jonathan Walker." Nadjia's voice echoed from all around.

"Well you're it! You've still got my germs!"