The time until recess increased, and so did Pam’s anxiety. Recess was supposed to be recreational and relaxing for the rambunctious students, but Pam found it distressing. She never even bothered trying to join in with the other students, all of them found speaking necessary and were annoyed to see her lost in her silence. She enjoyed letting her pinned up energy that her body made in excess as her thoughts ran loose being released through each swing. The swings always gave her an escape, a breathe of fresh air. She loved feeling the cold metal on her clammy hands and the wind touching her skin.
The children were in a single file line, surprisingly Micheal had some control of his class, and they went to the playground. Pam watched her sneakers as they walked forward, as if the plain white sneakers had suddenly become the most interesting thing in her life. She carefully stepped over any cracks in the pavement as they made their way to the mulch area in front of the brick school. The air was chilly and she zipped up her pink fleece. It was a foggy day, and the sun was hiding.
As soon as they reached the line between the mulch and pavement, each child took off at a sprint to be the first at a slide, the monkey bars, or the swings. Pam stayed back, watching all the kids dash to find their spots. She never wanted to get in the way of someone, she wanted to let them pick so she could meekly climb onto whatever was open. She never wanted to confront another child and take what she saw they had desired. Fortunately, the school had an array of swings, always allowing a few to be open. Her favorite was the swing to the far right. It was a little lower to the ground so she didn’t have to work as hard to get up with her height, and there were no trees to block her view as she swung.
••
Roy excitedly grabbed Jim’s arm, “Cmon man, you gotta come play basketball with us.”
“Mk,” Jim shrugged.
Roy pulled him to the square of pavement in the center of the playground.
“Here, you start, new kid. Show us watcha got!”
Jim took the orange basketball and looked towards the hoop, from the corner of his eye he saw the girl who sat next to him. Her red curls were frizzy around her face, bouncing as she swung. As her arms were cranking her back and forth, she made eye contact with him then quickly looked away.
“What about her? Can we invite her?” Jim questioned. The girl seemed nervous and isolated, but he figured they could fix that over a game of basketball.
“Huh?” Roy snorted, following his line of sight, “the girl on the swings? Seriously?”
“Yeah, with red hair.”
“You mean Pam? She won’t even talk, I’ve known her for years.” Roy giggled.
Jim’s smile dropped. Maybe a game of basketball wasn’t going to fix it, but even silence enjoys company.
“Her name is Pam? I didn’t even know that was her name!” a girl with straight, brown hair chimed in. “Maybe she’s not aware of how to talk.”
Jim looked back over to Pam… she obviously knew what he was saying when he talking to her. She understood all his pranks and was easy to talk to via just looks and shrugs, so maybe she was just shy. Jim’s mom always came home from her work with stories about this type of thing. She had a name for it, but Jim couldn’t remember. Regardless, he felt sorry for Pam. It sucked that she knew how to talk but couldn’t. He suddenly felt himself drawn to the swings like a magnet. His mom always told him to talk to the nervous ones, he guessed that was the effect of having a mom who worked in psych. Jim had never been the quiet type, he was one to ramble and fill the silence. Jim put his fingers through his messy hair, contemplating his next move. His weight shifted from his right foot which was in front, facing towards Pam to his other foot, then back again. He pressed his lips together as his toe pushed into the tip, his favorite blue sneakers were getting small. His fingers were still securely gripping the ball. They only tighten as he weighed his choices.
“Dude, if your not going to do anything can you give us the ball?” Darrel snapped, breaking Jim from his thoughts. Jim turned to face Darrel, his shoes making a screeching noise on the cement.
“Uh ok,” he dropped the inflated ball and it sprung into the air as it touched the cement. The boys all eyed him as he watched the ball bounce and slowly lower in height of bounces.
“Halpert, you gonna play with us or not?” Roy interrupted demandingly.
“How do you even know my last na-.”
“Mr. Scott told us before you came.”
“Oh.”
“So… you playin?”
“Can we invite Pam?”
“Uh she won’t talk.”
“Ok.”
“Ok? Don’t you want to talk well we play??”
“I- I think I’m going to go talk to Pam,” Jim answered. He spun on his heels and walked towards the girl.
“Good luck to talking with someone who won’t talk!” Roy called after him. The other kids giggled at his remark and watched Jim make his way towards the swings. Jim ignored them, making himself stand tall as if he was totally sure of the choice he made.
••
Pam heard the footsteps of someone crunching against the mulch and her eyes looked up to see the boy from earlier. His hair was messy as if it was a clue as to what he was feeling. The swing next to her was occupied with silence.
“I love swings,” Jim said, breaking the silence that once claimed the seat as he pulled himself up onto the swing. He swung his legs back and threw them forward to thrust himself into motion.
“Do you enjoy swings?” he asked.
Pam’s heart and thoughts all came to a racing stop as if someone whipped out a stop sign and placed it in the highway. She looked up at him, her eyes searching for comfort in her moment of uncertainty.
“You don’t have to answer,” Jim reassured, seeing her panic as if there was a glass window into her thoughts. “I think it’s cool that you talk without words! They’re boring!” the kind boy announced convincingly.
Pam couldn’t help but feel a smile pull on the corners of her mouth.
••
The creak of the swings filled the silence along with Jim’s ranting. He filled her in on Dwight’s obsession with beets and his farm. He was barely able to keep straight face, giggles sneaking out in between words. Soon he got quiet, as if he had something personal and secret to share, only to say that he once had a sleepover with Dwight. He claimed it was a mistake of his youth, and explained how “traumatic” the experience for young Jimmy Halpert.
He didn’t mind not receiving an answer. Her keeper of words stood firm, locking her words up with a key and throwing it far into the unknown. Nonetheless, he loved looking into her green eyes and knowing her response. It took patience, but he enjoyed her soft smiles and knowing looks. Patience was something Jim had been an expect at since day one, probably because of being the youngest to two older brothers. The wind created wrinkles in his t-shirt. Although the chilliness nipped at their chubby fingers that were wrapped around the metal swing tightly, the sun was peeking from the clouds. The bright yellow shown through the thick clouds. It was an authentic, vibrant yellow.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Chapter 8! I had so much fun writing this one, Jim is certainly a character.
Chapter End Notes:
I’ve already finished chapter nine, and I think y’all are going to really enjoy that one! Prepare yourselves!
