bernadette cassidy

“Do you ever wonder what clouds are made of? They’re so beautiful and soft looking. I even like clouds when they’re raining,” she babbled, scooping sand into a formation on her side of the sandbox.

The little girl looked over at him. It was obvious he was listening, but he hadn’t said a word. There was a sadness about him, one she didn’t understand but wasn’t bothered by.

“You want one of my friendship bracelets?”

Will looked over at her, then down at the colorful thread bracelet she held out to him. He nodded slowly, taking it and putting it in his pocket.

“Birdie!” a man called from some benches nearby.

“That’s my daddy. Thanks for playing with me! Bye!” she laughed before running off to her father.


Will ran out of the house, so angry he wished he could scream. He didn’t want to pack! He didn’t want to ride another plane! He didn’t want to go back to where his dad was so miserable!

He just wanted to stay by the beach forever, skipping rocks and learning how to fish. Micah still had to put the worm on the hook for him, but he was learning. What if there was no where to go fishing back in the stupid states?

“Hey! Do you wanted to play Frisbee with me?” a little girl called from the hill behind him.

He turned around slowly, half expecting her to be calling out to someone else. He pointed to himself and she laughed. “Yeah you! Please? I’m on vacation with my daddy and there’s no other kids!”

Will walked up to the little park and field with her, feeling more timid than he did every day at school. It was likely because he wasn’t used to playing with other kids.

“Catch!” the little girl laughed, tossing the blue flying disk his way.

He caught it before it could hit him in the face, and when he tossed it back it even went straight!

“Are you on vacation too? I just got here yesterday and we’re gonna leave in a few days. He took me to an arts and crafts fair and there was lots of paintings and crafts. I learned how to make friendship bracelets!”

She continued on as they tossed the toy back and forth, more than making up for his own silence.