An old man was sitting on a bench, eating a slightly warm tuna sandwich. The bench was in the middle of a playground, in the middle of a park, in the middle of a city. It was about noon, and the sun was at its hottest. Beads of sweat rolled down the old man’s nose and dropped onto the slightly warm, slightly soggy sandwich. The man didn’t mind the sweat rolling off his face, and didn’t mind that the sandwich was a little past edible. He just sat there and ate, watching the children play in the sand, at the playground.
The old man sat alone everyday, at this same exact bench, at this same exact time, watching the children play at the playground, eating his past-expiration date sandwich. No one ever bothered to talk to the old man. Everyone just walked past him, day in, day out. They never say anything, not even a hello. Most people thought he was just a creepy old man, watching the children play. The kids would just stare at him. The old man was in WW2, where he saved his squad from a grenade explosion. The blast left his faced burned and scared. He hardly looked like a human anymore. Most of the kids stared at his disfigured face. The doctor said that among other things, his tear ducts would never be able to operate that same. So when the old man cries alone on that bench every single day, nobody notices.
When the old man came home from the war (back then he was a young man), his kids could not stand the sight of him. They cried, and told him that he looked like the monster that was underneath their beds. The wife could never make love to him after the war. She told him that his face was too disgusting to be able to be turned on by him anymore. He cried, without tears, in total silence. He was a good husband and a good father, and the family started to get use to his horribly disfigured face, but still the wife good not make love, and the kids would not let him read bedtime stories to them. He was ashamed. He did not feel like a human anymore. He was an outsider looking in.
One day, after a long day of work, he comes home to an empty house. No one was there. There was a note on the kitchen table, that read, “I’m sorry. I took the kids, and went to my mother’s. This is all just too much for me and the kids. I loved you, and the kids love you.” It was the “I loved you” part that made him the angriest. She loved him? As in she doesn’t anymore? He didn’t understand. Just because he was disfigured, they just walked out of his life?
The next day he missed work, and went to the playground where he use to take his kids to play, hoping that he might see them there. He never did. He came everyday, looking for them, but they never did show up. Even after he signed the divorce papers, he still went to that park everyday. They never were there. It has been 30 years since that first day, and he still comes and sits at the bench to wait for his kids. By now they are adults, with children of their own. He hopes maybe he will see them at this park, playing with their kids. Maybe they will finally reunite.
He continues to eat his soggy sandwich. A young boy sits next to him on the bench, staring at the old man’s disfigured face. The old man looks down at the kid.
“Didn’t you parents tell you it’s not polite to stare at someone?” The old man growled at the boy.
“Yes sir, but I can’t help it. What happened to you face?” the little boy said with the curiosity that children have.
“Didn’t your parents tell you that you shouldn’t talk to strangers? I could just snatch you up, and take you to my car. You ever think of that kid? You can’t trust anyone. Especially an old disfigured man you have met in a park. Now go run a long to your parents.”
The boy looked deep into the old man’s eyes, “You know mister, you have really pretty blue eyes. Blue is my favorite color.”
“What?”
The boy raises his voice and yells, “Blue is my favorite color.”
“Boy, I am not deaf. What did you say before that?”
“I said you have really pretty eyes.”
The old man looks at the boy, confused, “Boy, don’t you find me scary? Doesn’t my face disgust you?”
“Why no sir, not at all. I think your face is interesting. How did it get like that?”
“World War 2. I through a grenade out of my fox hole, just a little too late.”
“World War 2!!! Oh cool. Did you get any medals?”
“Yeah. I got a Purple Heart.”
“Purple Heart? What’s that?”
“It’s a medal you get when you get hurt in combat.”
“I’ve never known anyone who has been to war before. Did you kill people?”
“Yes. I have. I’m not sure I want to get into that with a little kid. Where are your parents anyways?”
The kid points to the couple on the bench on the other side of the playground, “Over there.” Neither of them are paying much attention, “Sir, why are you here alone?”
“I’m waiting for someone.”
“Who?”
The man looks at the boy kind of angry, but decides to tell him anyways, “ I am waiting for my kids. Their mother left with them, away from me, 30 years ago.”
“Wow. That’s a long time mister. Why did they leave?”
The man looks down at his feet, and begins to cry, without any tears. Just a sad and somber, “Because, when I came back from the war, I looked like this.”
The boy looks at the many astonished, “That’s stupid! You are the coolest person I have ever met mister. You have cool blue eyes, you were in a war, and you have a medal!”
“Sometimes people can’t look beyond the monster that they see.”
“But you’re not a monster.”
“Yeah kid, but I look like one.”
The little boy thinks long and hard about what the man said. Sometimes people can’t see past the monster. The boy scooted closer to the old man, and put his arm around him, “Mister, my parents read me a story. A knight was going to slay a horrible dragon, and save the town from him. When the knight got to the cave, he saw the dragon crying. The knight asked the dragon, ‘Why are you crying?’ and the dragon said, ‘No one likes me because I am a dragon, this is why I burn and eat the townspeople’, and the knight said to the dragon, ‘I will be your friend, I don’t care about what you look like, just don’t eat the towns people, and they will become you friends too.’ Don’t you see mister? They may have left you because you look like a monster, but you have been alone for 30 years, because you don’t let that go.”
The man started to cry again, still without tears, but not sad and somber. More like a relived cry.
Then the boy asked, “Will you be my friend?”
The man shook his head yes, and gave the boy a hug. The old man smiled and finished his tuna sandwich. He thought to himself that the boy looked oddly familiar. He noticed that the boy reminded him of someone he once knew, but couldn’t put his finger on it. The boy went to play with his father in the sand. The old man watched him play, trying to remember who the boy reminded him of, but could never quite figure it out. He finished his sandwich, and walked back to his apartment, knowing that tomorrow will be a great day.
