It was cooler in Autumn- much cooler, despite the fact that the sun was still to be seen in the gray skies overhead- a temperature which made Calvin feel quite content as he rocked, back and forth upon the plastic seat of the swing he had spent most of the day on. The swing set had been built with children in mind- children who were much, much shorter than Calvin, whom felt like a crumpled origami giraffe as he sat there with his back hunched and his knees bent. The young man had no room to dangle his legs from the swing as he could remember doing so when he was young, however, he did have an advantage; with only a small push, Calvin was able to launch himself backwards into the air, and could then stretch out his legs in front of himself- a stork taking flight.
He wore a smile upon his face, as was to be expected from the childish fellow, despite his pathetic hunched position upon the swing in the center of the nearly-empty park, and if one were to listen closely, they would have been able to hear the notes which Calvin was humming softly- almost as if he were daydreaming.
Two young children were sitting in the grass on the far side of the park, watching Calvin as if he were going to take flight at any given moment- or perhaps they were simply wondering why such an odd looking man was sitting on their favorite swing. They were the only others there to keep the sandbox, the plastic slide, and the swing set company that quiet afternoon.
Calvin stretched his legs outward for a short moment and sprung from the ground as if the chips of wood that had been sprinkled about it were actually made of some sort of enchanted trampoline. Laugher drifted from his awkward smile and danced upon the chilled, fall air as he slowly and cautiously slid his arms up the chains that held the swing in place, his twinkling eyes running over the playground, which seemed so far below him. For someone with so much fear burning beneath his chest, the young man seemed quite free spirited as he swung his legs back and forth, forcing the swing to imitate the movement.
“Aha!” One of the children sprawled out on the grass exclaimed, crawling quickly to his feet; the young boy was clearly impressed with the height that the stranger on the swing set had managed to reach.
Calvin had not taken notice to the children, and was startled by the sudden outburst despite the fact that it had not been any particularly frightening noise- it had been more of a cheer, in fact, and for a moment, as Calvin’s eyes met the excited baby blues that belonged to the boy below, he felt for a moment as if he had become someone else entirely. He had achieved something magnificent in the eyes of the child before him- he was Superman for that fraction of a second.
Now, had he actually transformed into the superhero that he himself had once idolized when he was as young as the blue-eyed boy on the other side of the park, Calvin would have been able to prevent the swing from rocking forward violently when he was distracted, and would have thus been able to prevent himself from crashing to the hard, dirtied ground with a loud thud when gravity decided he had spent enough time in midair. However, such things did not happen- at least not for Calvin, for that would have required luck, and he had been a rather unlucky person since birth.
“Ouch…”
The small, hurried footsteps of the two children rushing towards him were magnified when his head was pressed so firmly against the ground like that- as was the pain that seemed to be coming from his arm, which he was lying flat upon with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He would have cried, but for that moment, it had seemed as if he had forgotten how to; the pain had been too great for him to remember how to allow the salty tears that were building up within his eyes to roll down his scratched cheeks.
“Mr! Mr, are you OK?” a small, innocent voice squeaked as both children grabbed hold of Calvin’s sides and began to pull him upward off of the ground.
Calvin straightened, peeking through his sticky eyelashes at the arm which pained him. His left arm hung limply from his shoulder, his hand in his lap, and it took no time at all for the young man to realize that he had broken the bone beneath the skin. “On no…” he croaked- his voice sounding as small as that of the children whom had pulled him up from the dirt; Calvin knew of many healing spells which would work greatly in such a case, however, the idea of casting one of those healing spells upon his own arm frightened him like a thunderstorm frightened an infant.
No matter, the pain was too great to ignore, and the injury looked terrifying.
Slowly, Calvin shifted his weight so that he was able to dig the fingers of his right hand inside the back pocket of his black jeans, fingering the change that he had forgotten about within the pocket before the tips of his fingers met with the splintering wood of his wand. “G-grab that, please,” Calvin whimpered as he asked the younger boy for assistance, who then pulled the wand Calvin’s back pocket with ease, being as small as he was. “What’s that, a stick?” The younger-looking of the two children asked; a girl with long blonde hair that appeared as if it hadn’t been combed through in a year at the very least. Her large, crystal blue eyes were identical to her brothers, and were what lead Calvin to assume that the two of them were siblings, if not twins.
“It’s a wand,” Calvin answered her question, forgetting completely of the laws that had been made in order to protect muggles from the wizarding word, despite the fact that it was his job to do just that- though it wouldn’t have been the first time Calvin Ransom had foolishly admitted to someone who could very possibly have been a muggle that their was, indeed, a world beyond the one that they knew of. In fact, he slipped up on a daily basis, and it was a wonder why the Ministry hadn’t fired him for it.
Though it took a bit of time, and Calvin struggled quite a lot at doing so, he eventually managed to position himself so that he was holding his wand firmly in his right hand, and the tip of it lay gently upon the arm that he had broken, “Please, lord God almighty…” he whispered quickly, fallowed by the muttered incantation that was supposedly going to heal the damage that had been done when he had fallen from the swing.
The hairs upon Calvin’s arm seemed to have been lit on fire as the charm spread throughout his arm; an odd tingling/burning sensation was felt as the magic mended his fractured bone, as if welding it back together with the flame that Calvin could have sworn had begun to dance upon the flesh of his arm. “Ow-ow-ow!” he wined, but his voice was drowned out by the “Ooohs” and “Ahhhs” of his audience of two.