Chapter Two: Bubblegum and Butterflies by Lynette Ferreira

The air at the skate park hung thick with the mingled scents of hot asphalt and freshly mowed grass. Beneath the relentless South African sun, Daniel McCarthy tightened his grip on his skateboard, the worn edges of the deck a testament to countless hours spent mastering tricks. He perched at the top of the half-pipe, gazing down at the empty bowl below. The space was his escape, a sanctuary carved out of the chaos of his life, where the world’s expectations didn’t exist.

Daniel rolled his shoulders and adjusted his stance. A soft breeze brushed his face, ruffling his dark hair as he pushed off. Gravity claimed him, pulling him into a smooth drop. The world blurred for a moment, the sharp curve of the concrete a blur beneath his wheels. His body moved on instinct, muscles tensing and releasing in perfect rhythm. He kicked the board mid-air into a perfect varial flip, landing cleanly with the effortless precision that had earned him grudging respect even among those who whispered about his reputation.

A small group of kids perched on the park's edges, their chatter fading as they watched him. The awe in their eyes was familiar; Daniel had seen it a hundred times before but admiration was fleeting. Soon enough, their parents or teachers would fill their heads with warnings: Don’t end up like Daniel McCarthy. He’s nothing but trouble.

He ground to a halt, letting his board clatter against the concrete. Dropping to sit on the edge of the bowl, he tipped his head back and let the sun’s rays warm his face. For a moment, he could almost forget the whispers, the labels, the way adults looked at him as though he were a walking cautionary tale.

“Dude, that flip was sick.”

It was Luca, his best friend and the closest thing to family Daniel had outside his mom. The lanky boy plopped down beside him, shoving a juice box into Daniel’s hand. “I’m telling you, you’ve got the moves to go pro. When are you gonna start filming your runs?”

Daniel smirked, rolling the cool drink between his palms. “And what? Post them online so everyone in town can tell me I’m wasting my time even louder?” He punctuated the thought with a dry laugh, but there was no humour in it. He popped the straw into the juice box and sipped, savouring the sweetness.

“Let them talk.” Luca kicked his feet against the concrete. “They don’t get it. They don’t get you.”

Daniel’s smile faded as he stared across the park to the horizon. Beyond the neatly trimmed fields of the park lay a row of weathered houses, their peeling paint and sagging roofs a stark contrast to the polished suburb on the other side of town. His house was somewhere in that cluster—a narrow, two-bedroom rental with too many memories crammed between its thin walls.

Inside, his mom would be working a double shift, her voice hoarse from answering phones all day at the call centre. And his dad? Daniel’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t seen his father in years. The man had left behind nothing but a box of vinyl records and a pair of scuffed work boots, relics shoved into the back of a closet. Sometimes, Daniel thought about throwing them out but every time he tried, he stopped, the pit in his stomach reminding him that they were all he had left of the man. It was things he did not want and, also, things he did want. He did not like to think about it too hard but deep down, really, really deep down, he cared. He wanted to know why. Why the man just upped and left.

Luca’s voice jolted him back. “You spacing out again? Thought you were the master of focus.”

“Shut up.” Daniel shoved him lightly, a flicker of amusement breaking through his brooding. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

Luca grinned. “Same as always. Find something to do that doesn’t get us arrested.”

Daniel snorted, standing up and grabbing his board. “Sounds like a challenge.”

The pair skated off, weaving through the park with easy familiarity. Daniel's movements were second nature now, his body instinctively adjusting to every bump and turn. As he kicked up into a final ollie, the board hit the edge with a sharp crack, sending him airborne. He soared for a moment, free, untouchable. And then he landed smoothly, wheels rolling back onto the concrete, grounded once again.

A small cheer erupted from the kids watching. Daniel tipped them a salute before turning away, his expression neutral. He didn’t skate for the applause or the attention. He skated because it was the only time he felt in control, the only time the chaos inside him matched the world outside.

As he and Luca headed toward the exit, the shadows grew longer in the late afternoon light. Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets, his board tucked under one arm. The ache in his chest was familiar, a dull reminder of everything unresolved in his life. He wasn’t sure what the future held – if there even was a future or if he cared to find out but for now, there was the park, the tricks, and the fleeting moments when he felt like he could defy gravity. It was enough.

At least, it had to be. There really was no other option.

Continue reading 3/?

Copyright © Lynette Ferreira. All Rights Reserved. 

All work created and posted on this blog is the intellectual property of Lynette Ferreira.