(Originally published in 2013)
"'You are old, father William, the young man said…'" Mick grinned as he quoted from some poem he'd heard somewhere.
Will feigned a swat at his young companion. "That's getting repetitious, Mick."
The kid moved nimbly away. "It fits though."
"I'm forty-three," Will grumbled.
"Yeah, old."
Shaking his head, Will pulled his jacket tighter, trying to keep warm against the cold night air. He felt old at the moment, even though he knew he didn't really look it. His brown hair was long, held back off his face in a ponytail with a piece of string, and his beard was trimmed as best it could be under the circumstances. He wasn't particularly wrinkled, despite spending most of his time out of doors. He was tanned too, because of that, but not inordinately so.
It had been a rough day, fraught with problems of both the survival and precognition sort.
Survival he could deal with. The precog—well, he could deal with that as well. He had been for years. But he didn't have to like having the ability, even if it did help people.
Like today…
Will watched the mother and her toddler enter the playground of a school across the street from where he and Mick were huddled at the moment. It was unseasonably chilly for an early September Sunday morning, thus the playground was empty, with the exception of a man who seemed at first glance to be a janitor, since he was carrying a black plastic trash bag and a broom.
Probably there early to clean the area so he'll have the rest of the day off. Will considered it as he wondered where the best place to panhandle for the day might be.
Then he looked more closely at the man.
In a flash, the scene changed…
A toddler was in the sandbox while his mother sat on a bench nearby, alternating her attention between the boy and the book she had taken from her purse. The man strolled toward the sandbox, his glance swiveling from the woman to the child. In less time than it took for the mother to turn a page, the man had grabbed the boy, running out of the playground with him.
"Hell no." Will jumped to his feet, racing across the street, leaving his bewildered companion behind.
Then the scene reverted back to what it had been when Will had first noticed the woman.
She stopped at the entrance to the playground to say something to the toddler before opening the gate. The man was on the far side of the area, sweeping one of the sidewalks leading to the school.
The child made a dash for the swings, stopping when his mother pointed to the sandbox. Will heard the child protest and his mother tell him he could swing later. As they crossed toward the sandbox, Will entered the playground. The woman stared at him, her look wary as he headed their way. When he got closer, she picked the boy up and despite his crying that he wanted to play, she walked rapidly away toward the exit.
Turning quickly, Will saw the man's back as he vanished around the side of the school, the broom and trash bag abandoned on the sidewalk.
"What was that all about?" Mick asked, when Will rejoined him at the entrance to the alley.
Will shrugged. "I thought I recognized her. I realized I was wrong when I got closer. I guess she decided them being there with some a bum hanging around wasn't such a good idea."
Mick shook his head, picked up their gear, handing Will his backpack, and they set off to begin their day.
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