MASTERPIECE

The thought of ice cream makes Cypress so excited — it's like her Popeye's spinach. A sudden strength emerges from her tiny body that's able to pull both me and Claire. We bowed gratefully to bid goodbye to the teacher. Together, we then went inside the car and had embarked on another journey to the local park of our neighborhood.

Despite the passing years, the park had remained its beauty. Although a bit rusty, The steel arch at the entrance that says 'Merritown Park' had remained sturdy and readable. The enclosure became much more beautiful as vines of flowering plants entangled themselves on the pickets. The excited little girl continued to forcefully pull us in. Once you enter, large cages of brightly colored budgies welcome you while the vast fields of low grass, trimmed shrubs, and occasional hardwoods will fill everything else in your sight. There are narrow bricked trails and wider concrete walkways that help people navigate within. I've always thought that it is so much better to trudge your way on the grass to relax and feel the calming power of nature; it is just that our shoes disagree.

Near the heart of the park lies a mini amusement park where rides are available for all ages. This is where most people gather when they're inside. The bonus is that there have been sprouting food stalls encircling that area for added fun. We continued to walk while Cypress still firmly grasps our hands, me at the right, and Claire at her left. Cypress suddenly ran and broke free from us after a bright orb of light flew past us.

I shouted, "Is it the chase again, Cypress?"

"Be careful, Dear. It's already getting dark. Trip down and you'll not be able to have a taste of ice cream!" worried Claire.

"You really have a soft heart for my daughter. That's why I'm really lucky to have you." I said as we continued our pace. Her nod assured me of her continued guidance. "Do you see that bench?" I said as I happily looked into her eyes.

"What bench?" Claire retorted.

"You're old enough to still pee on your skirt," I whispered.

"You!" shouted her. A heavy blow at the shoulder was what returned to me.

"Now you remember!"

"I've never forgotten. It's just that I didn't expect you to remember."

"Why will I forget? That was the day you threw a rock at me and gave me this permanent scar! Thank you for aiming high up on my forehead for easy hair covering." I smirked. "Come to think of it, we were kids back then and we're still high school when we last took a visit here, until now of course."

"That wasn't piss, it was a juice I spilled!" She bowed her head and lent out an unconvincing grin. She then looked away, "Cypress, wait for us!"

I winked. "We both know that wasn't juice."

Cypress was already at the threshold of the mini-amusement park. As always, standing tall despite being puny with her hands crossed over her chest. Her fidgeting feet are like a ticking time bomb that will explode if we're still not there yet by after a minute. I rushed towards her, grabbed her by the waist, tickled her, and lifted her. Her little laugh always shines joy onto me.

"So, what would you like to try first, dear?" I asked Cypress.

"Try to not tickle me again, Dad." said Cypress, "of course, ice cream."

"Ok then, let's sit on this bench right here first and…" I cleared my throat and alluded at the top of my lungs, "wait for a slow one to catch onto us!"

"Coming!" yelled Claire as she continued her slow gait.

Lamp posts gilded her black hair to an almost golden brown hue. Her blue and green eyes sparkled with a drop of light in the coming dark. Her long hair swayed with the wind with some strand gently falling down her face, to which she tried to brush off with her petite hand. Her other hand was in the pocket of her brown overcoat — trying to resist the sudden gust of wind.

"Claire," I beckoned.

She hastened a little bit towards us. "Why are you smiling?" she asked.

"I'm smiling?" I just found my hand scratching my head. "By the way, Cypress wants her ice cream now." I raised my eyebrows and slightly tilted my head.

Claire stooped down in front of my daughter. She pinched her cheeks then delved inside her handbag. "A penny for ice cream is not the only thing you'll get… birthday girl!"

Surprise filled my daughter's face and she started jumping. "What is it? What is it, Aunt Claire?" She continued to repeat the words joyously while waiting for Claire to give her something.

"Wait for it," Claire pulled out a gift wrapped in red with a note on top. "Hope you'll like it. Happy birthday!"

Excited, she deftly grabbed the gift from Claire's hand and started ripping the wrapper off. A small notebook with a pen and crayons is what stumbled upon her. "I like it, I do," said Cypress as she hugged Claire.

Those weren't the reactions I was expecting. I gave Claire a half-smile as a sign of gratitude. She seemed to have acquired a certain secret book of gathered knowledge of our dear. A book I'd be willing to write but I don't know what chapter I should start. Cypress not being able to resist meant she did love the simple gift.

"Don't be so overwhelmed," Claire said and held her hands, "or else, you'll forget your ice cream." She took a penny from her worn-out and not-so-lady-like wallet and gave it to her. Without even looking back, Cypress just bolted towards the ice cream stall.

"Have a seat." I tapped my hands on the free space of the bench where I'm sat. Claire stood up, fixed her things, and sat beside me. I leaned forward towards her. "Looks like everything is going well. Look at your new blouse, shoes, and bag."

"Well, you can say things are going well," she replied in a low tone.

"Are you not happy?" I asked. She's not telling me something. "Oh, maybe it's because you haven't found a good wallet yet?" I stood up and offered my hand, "Come on let's buy you a new one."

"Well if it'll come from you then I guess I'll give it a go." She has a good stack of vocabulary for rejecting stuff. "But, no thanks." Those follow-up words made me sat back down.

"But why?"

"This one's special, you gave this to me on my 16th birthday. Don't worry, I'm taking care of it. I'm not putting big amounts and heavy coins inside this."

"Ha! Was it that one? But, it has become so tattered and unrecognizable, don't you think?"

"Well, if you're that persistent then buy me a new one on my 32nd then?" she smirked.

I nodded and we shared smiles of agreement.

"But certainly, you know how to make my dear happy. It is just so fascinating how you easily read her. She's like an incomprehensible novel I've been trying to understand." I pointed my lips towards Cypress, who, despite the obvious difficulty, happily stood on tiptoe just to reach the hands of the ice cream man. "Look at her," I gazed at Claire's eyes, "wish you'd be here more frequently. She isn't half as energetic like that."

"How I wish as well, but you know I'm busy. I'll only be here until some time this summer. By then, I just want my spare time to be spent with the people I have left."

"Then don't leave. Moving around is quite tiring don't you think? We'll make your days fun."

"Hope so." She raised her head and gave me a bittersweet smile. "Everything does felt a little more tiring."

"It's almost summer, and I do think that a week or two is more than enough. We can have a picnic in our front yard, by the fig tree, play football even if I'm not as good as you, ride bikes, fly kites, like what we did back then. This is more than enough time than the usual one-day visits you do for a year, or should I say stopovers instead of visits." I jested, "And after that, I'll do my best to place my haunches on the front seat of every theater to watch you. Just book me a VIP ticket if you'll happen to perform nearby. Weren't there any locations of your tour close to Merritown or even Hillport?" I skid closer to her, "Anyway, Stella would be so proud of you."

She just nodded.

"What are you gonna do on the weekends?"

She didn't answer.

I raised my hands and place them behind my head. I crossed my legs and made myself relaxed. She also unwinded from her stiff posture and had rested her back on the wooden bench. Suddenly, a small glimmer from a lighting bug emerges. From the meadows, the lone firefly flew slowly past us, making an impression in an already dark hour. When was the last time I saw a firefly? To think that it will be noticeable despite the bright lights coming from the lamp posts. Her teeth shone brighter than the fluorescent bug. Her eyes were gently closing to almost a slit and crow's feet form beside her eyes. I once again heard her cute giggle. The concentration she's pouring to not scare the bug away was immovable.

"Oh, Look! This bug's an early bird!" whispered Claire then giggled, "for next year of course."

I stared at the beautiful orb of light. "Don't say the word bird. You might either scare the bug away or conjure a bird that will engulf this little critter."

The firefly flew around, probably lost and looking for others of his kind. It continued unwittingly until it rested over her nose. She didn't mind the struggle of keeping her eyes crossed and nearer than ever. Her dilated pupils added to the spectacle I'm witnessing.

I can compare Claire with this brave little firefly. However small and however frail, she tries her best to remain strong. She's just so independent, brave, and unwavering in withstanding and overcoming the small bursts of wind, even if she's flying opposite the flow, just to go where she wants to be. I also do believe that her inner self can glow way prettier than the superficial — notwithstanding the fact that she does possess an undeniable pulchritude.

Claire yanked. Well, it did break the slight awkwardness between us just as it did break the roosting session of the bug. Just as when we're about to stand and go towards Cypress, my dear was waving her notebook and hopping towards us, of course, with her finished cone of ice cream.

"Daddy, Aunt!" repeated Cypress catching our already caught attention. "I've made something you will like."

She showed us a handmade drawing of two people sitting on what appears a bench. One sat with legs modestly closed at the far left and another sitting too comfortably with hands on the nape at the far right. Did we look like this? And below that, I think, is an orange balloon with random spots of blue, green, yellow, and red. It is difficult to make out the illustration due to smudges of what appears as failed efforts of erasure.

"These are beautiful," remarked Claire. "What a masterpiece."

I jested, "Yeah, best stick figures I've ever seen!"

Cypress scowled along with a heavy stomp, "Daddy! They're not even sticks!"

My little girl's pride was hurt with my commentary. With heavy hands, she opened her box of crayons almost tearing the box down. She sprung onto the bench at the space between us and began scribbling more over her stick figures. And of course, Claire was happily watching how she works.

"Why don't we stay at your house for a while?" I asked, making Claire turn her head towards me. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

"I just came back and I haven't had my house cleaned yet." She said with a half-smile.

"That's the point. We'll help you clean up!"

"Let's just go home after this."

"I insist. Cypress is a big girl now. She loves taking the role of mom in our house. She even wakes me up if I happen to miss the alarm."

Cypress temporarily unfocused her eyes on the paper, "That's right! Auntie Claire always told me that…"

"What is it?" I brought my ears nearer.

"Shush, Cypress." She turned her eyes back to me, "It's already going dark. I don't want to force you guys to clean my house at a time like this. The day has been long and we all need some rest." She stood up from the bench and proceeded to take a step towards the park's exit. "Let's just call it a night. I'll be happy for you guys to help me this weekend."

"O-ok." I hesitantly agreed.

With some smiling eyes, she bowed to Cypress and peeped through my little girl's busy face. "Come on now, we should go. You can continue drawing after some time."

"But Auntie! I'm trying to finish my stick figures - yes, my stick figures - and make Dad see the art you saw." She glared yet playfully begged for some more moments before we end our day.

"It's ok Cypress. Look at you. You still have your Swan Lake costume on you."

"In Swan Lake, it's at night where the magic happens," she replied.

"You are a smart girl just like your dad." Claire rested herself to a crouch, touched her cheeks, and patted her head before standing back up.

Cypress gathered all the crayons that she haphazardly splattered on the bench and had folded her notebook after a final glance at her artwork. She jumped out from where she sat and took her Aunt Claire's hand for the walk.