Kids playing in a sandbox. Swings blown in the wind, making a creaking noise. Rusted chains. Two women sit on a park bench with a bottle in a brown sack between them, passing it back and forth.

Careful Jimmy. Don’t throw sand, one woman says, while the other takes a drink, lips around crinkled paper.

Susie, put down the rock, honey. Put it down, says the other mom. That’s good, dear. Go back in the sandbox, sweetie. Go on, she says. Good. Now stay there. The daughter runs sand through her fingertips.

The two women sit quietly, still passing the bottle to each other. Rings missing on both women. One blonde and the other brunette. They sit in silence.

Jimmy? What are you doing? Play with your truck, Jimmy. Yeah. Drive it. Can you make a road for it? The son nods his head and smiles. No front teeth.

They’re growing up fast, Susie’s mom says. Soon, they’ll be dating. Have jobs. Getting married.

Jimmy’s mom still remains quiet and still. She takes another drink and lights a cigarette. Hands the pack to her fellow mom.

I hope he grows up fast, Jimmy’s mom says. I want him out of the house when he turns eighteen.

You’re just going to kick him out?

Yes. The day after his birthday.  Best gift I can give him. He’ll learn to be tough. To situate in the world. The two go back to silence. Jimmy’s mom finishes off the bottle. She weaves over to the trashcan and throws it away.

I have no idea what will become of Susie. I just hope she doesn’t wind up like me.

The swings are still blown in the wind. Sounds of kids laughing. The moms sit and watch.