A Chance Meeting

Becker scuffed his sneakers as he walked along the winding path. His thirteen year old face was twisted into an expression of anger as he contemplated the screw up that was his life. His mother nagged him constantly about the stupidest things- the dishes, homework, football, cleaning his room. None of it meant anything. Not compared to what his dad was doing. His dad was out saving the world from psychopathic dictators. What was he doing? Acing tests? Having more friends than he could count? He kicked a small pebble on the path. "What does it matter?" He asked aloud then immediately looked around in case anyone had heard him. The last thing he wanted was someone to think he was going crazy. That would really wreck the reputation his mother had made him work so hard for.

He let out a relieved breath when he didn't see anyone. He had to be more careful. He rolled his eyes at the thought. His mistakes didn't cost lives. He remembered his father's last email from the Middle East complaining about how he couldn't afford to make the smallest mistake or people could die. However much Colonel Becker complained about the pressure, his son knew that he relished the challenge. He wished for a challenge like that. A challenge that would count for something. A challenge that could change the world.

He sighed; I won't ever do anything like that, he thought morosely. He kicked another pebble on the path moving with the fluidity of a practiced football player. "And he kicks another goal. That's 2 goals to Hilary Becker," He mimicked a sports announcer. Sports was his area of excellence, much to his mother's delight. Bragging about it was her other delight.

A little voice spoke up, "Does it count as a goal if it doesn't go into a net?"

Becker whirled around to see a little girl sitting on the swing set to his right, "Of course it counts. It's not real though. If it were real, I would've scored way more." He bragged a little more than he should have but the girl couldn't tell.

The small brunette frowned, "I thought you didn't score many goals in soccer."

"Yeah, well the other teams suck so we win by a mile."

"That's not a very nice thing to say," She glared at him.

"Well, it's the truth. What do you want me to do about it?" He looked at her closely. She couldn't have been more than 9. "Did your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?"

She shrugged, "Don't have a mother. My Dad taught me to bit one if they try to take me away. He said that's unlikely cause I talk to much for them to want me." She smiled at the in-joke.

"What if he's bigger than you?" Becker pointed out the flaw in her father's logic. "Biting him, won't do much?"

"Then I kick and scream," She answered as though it were obvious. "Why are you being so nosy?"

"You started it," He retorted, folding his arms. He didn't like being called nosy. That was his mother, not him.

"Sorry. I can't keep my mouth shut sometimes," She smiled at him. "Wanna swing?" She pointed at the empty swing next to her.

Becker frowned at her, "I'm thirteen. I'm too old for swings."

She laughed, "You're never too old for swings!" She swung her legs, propelling herself forward as though proving her point. "It's way too fun."

"How old are you?" She seemed older than she looked.

"I'm 8 but Daddy calls me precocious. And precious but mainly precocious." She smiled brightly at him, "Come on, are you too old to have fun?"

"I have fun," He bristled indignantly. "It's just grown up fun."

"But you're not a grown up. You're thirteen," She pointed out. "So you're allowed to have 'kid' fun," She wagged her fingers at the word, 'kid'. "

"But it's stupid. It's just a swing. Why do you care so much?"

She shrugged, "You look sad. Why are you sad?"

"It's complicated. You wouldn't understand," He told her, straightening up to his full height. "You're too little."

"I'm smart. I skipped two grades. I'll understand," She looked up at him, big blue eyes full of innocence. "Honest."

He could feel his resistance wearing down. He ambled slowly over to the swing and sat down like it was the hardest thing in the world, "Happy now."

"Very," She smiled again and started swinging. "I'm Jess by the way."

"Becker," He replied politely and copied her movements. It had been years since he'd been on a swing.

Jess frowned, "Like Rebecca? The girls name?"

"No. It's my last name," He explained reluctantly. "I don't like my first name very much. It's stupid."

"Is that why you're sad? You don't like your name?"

"No! That would be stupid. I'm upset because my mother is an annoying idiot."

"At least you have one," Jess sounded almost jealous.

"Sometimes I wish I didn't," He confessed, suddenly feeling the need to talk. "All she does is nag. I just want her to shut up. It's all so stupid. None of it really matters. What Dad does really matters and she doesn't want to talk about it, ever."

Jess kicked her legs forward and back, she was too short to push off from the ground. "What does your dad do?"

"He's a Colonel in the Special Forces," Becker said proudly. "He defeats all the evil dictators around the world. He kicks but."

"That sounds scary," Jess commented. "Doesn't he get scared?"

"You think that cos you're a little girl. Soldiers don't get scared," Becker told her seriously. "They train it out of you in the training."

"My Daddy says everyone gets scared sometimes," Jess replied lightly. "Like I'm scared of needles and he's scared of snakes."

"Well you're not a soldier, are you?"

"No. Are you?"

"I'm too young," He replied, obviously resentful of the fact. "And Mum says I'll enlist over her dead body."

"Do you want to be a soldier?" Jess asked curiously.

"I…" He didn't know what to say. His mother always answered that question for him. "Mum wants me to play football professionally or coach or something 'safe'." His face contorted angrily at the last word.

"Is that what you want?" Jess pressed. As young as she was, she could still see that that wasn't what he wanted.

"I…" He paused to think, "I want to make a difference. I want a challenge."

"Like a doctor or something?" She looked up, innocent eyes full of awe. "Doctor's are so smart."

"Nah. I'm not that smart. I don't like sitting still that much."

"That sounds like me," She said cheerfully and swung higher. "My teacher calls me a Mexican jumping bean. But he doesn't sound happy when he says that."

Becker laughed. He thought that description fit her well; she hadn't been still for the entire time they'd been talking. "Mine loves me."

"Teacher's pet," Jess teased laughingly.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not time infinity."

"Infinity's not a number, dumbo," She told him sternly, pouting slightly.

"I know that. I'm not stupid. Infinity is forever."

"You said you weren't smart," She argued, parroting his previous words.

"That doesn't mean I'm stupid!"

She looked down, embarrassed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"You didn't," Becker told her quickly, not wanting the little girl to think he was sissy. "I'm like Superman- nothing can hurt me."

"Kryptonite can," Jess pointed out.

"Yeah well… There's no kryptonite around to hurt me," Becker retorted. They fell into a silence that was only broken by the slight creaks of the aging swing set.

"Why doesn't your Mum want you to be a soldier?" Jess spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence.

"I don't know. I thought she'd be proud of me, like Grandma is of Dad, but every time I even mention it she goes crazy."

"My daddy goes crazy when I do something dangerous. He yells a bit but I think he's just worried."

Becker looked down at petite girl, "What could you do that's so dangerous?"

"Climb out the window of our apartment to get my teddy back," She explained nonchalantly.

"How high up was the window?"

"7 stories."

Becker's dark brown eyes widened, "Are you stupid?"

"No! I knew I could do it. I'm little, not incapable." She replied, defensiveness bordering on anger.

"That's actually impressive though," Becker gave her a half smile. "Worse thing I've ever done was jump out of giant tree into a pool. Mum nearly killed me. But it was fun. Dad thought it was hilarious."

"He sounds nice," Jess said absently.

Becker nodded proudly, "He is. I wanna be just like him."

"So you want to be a soldier?"

Becker nodded, uncertainly at first then confidently, "Yeah, I think I do. Mum will kill me though."

"But it's not her choice, is it? I mean, it your life, isn't it? That's what Daddy tells me. I can do anything I want because it's my life," She said, rambling slightly.

"I guess," He could see her logic behind the rambling. It made sense: it was his life after all. "She's still gonna be plenty mad though."

"Daddy says that why I'm lucky I don't have a mum. She'd just get mad," Jess said sadly. She kicked her legs, slowing the swing down.

"Don't you want one though? I mean, I don't get on with mine all the time but she's still my mum, you know?"

Jess shook her head sadly, "Don't know. Can't remember her."

"Sorry," He said sympathetically. "You can have mine if you want. She's always telling me to share."

She smiled brightly than shook her head, "That's sweet Becker. But no, Daddy and I manage okay. Beside we don't live around here anyway."

"You don't?" Becker asked, barely concealing his disappointment. It was so easy to talk with Jess. "Why are you here then?"

"Daddy had to see a patient. He's a doctor," She added in explanation. "He's really smart."

"Like you," Becker said with a smile.

She smiled brightly at him, "Yes, like me."

"You're really modest," He told her sarcastically.

"Thanks," She rolled her eyes good naturedly. Jess leapt off the swing in a graceful arc but stumbled at the landing. She straightened immediately; trying to look like nothing had gone wrong. "Daddy!" She yelled, waving at the solitary figure that had just entered the park. She turned back to Becker, smiling fading. "I have to go now."

"Okay." He tried not to look disappointed. She was good company. For a girl anyway.

"You go be a good little soldier," She told him cheerfully.

"Who are you calling little?" Becker retorted, mock angry.

She laughed, "Bye Becker. Maybe I'll see you again some time."

"See you around Jess," Becker replied as she turned and ran over to her waiting father. "One day maybe."

A/N: So don't ask me where this came from. I have no idea. It just sorta happened. I'm supposed to be writing a Shakespearian eulogy but this happened. I think I prefer this, don't you? Review please!