Time

• Atricia Bodhiwan, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2020

I like to see the water. Not just any type of water though. I like to see the calm rippling waves spreading over the warm sand, with the glowing sun waving goodbye in the distance, with pink and red light filling the vast expanse of the sky, all on the evening of a busy day. Every night I’d stand on the edge of the fence on the main road, quiet as usual, peering into the distance and engaging my own attention to the colours the world has painted before me. Every night was the same – I’d drive down to the same spot, stand and gaze for an hour or so till the stars come out to say hello, and drive back to wherever I need to be. But came one day when the quiet road wasn’t as quiet as usual, and on this day a young boy, about half my age, came riding down beside me on a little red scooter. He stood beside where I stood and he gazed where I gazed. It seemed like he paid no attention to me at all, he just stood there like a happy little fellow minding his own business. Curious, I decided to start a conversation.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” I started. He continued to stare at the darkening sun.
“That’s why I choose to stand here,” he answered. He looked back at me, “next to you.”
His legs fiddled around with his scooter, shifting it back and forth at a steady pace. Both of us fell silent for a moment, then he asked, “Don’t you think that it’s such a marvellous thing that the sun rises and sets the same way every day, so that you can look upon it on one day and endure the beauty of it, but come again the next day and there it is waiting for you again?”
I looked at him, surprised. I wouldn’t have expected some random person to ask such big questions. At least not at his age.
“I think so.” I replied. He smiled, then turned back towards the sea.
“It makes me wonder,” he added, “how precious time is. Like you can do whatever you want between the morning and night, but the sunset will always be there. It’ll be there for all the years to come.”
He hopped back onto his scooter, taking one last look out into the soft blue waters.
“And every time you look back at the sunset you’ll remember the day that’s just gone past. Then you’ll wait for the next sunset. And then it all repeats.”
He then took off, the cool breeze dashing past my face as he sailed into the distance. From that day on I never saw him again; on some days the road grew louder, others were left in silence. But once precious moment that I’ll always recall is that one time – that one time with me and the boy with the little red scooter.