Watching the Watchers Watch

I'm staring up at the moon rising over the mountain behind some playground equipment while the two littles climb up and down the slide.

There's often a crowd of young-ish to older aged kids mixed together playing ball on the courtyard. Usually they're screaming profanities in joking fun. Tonight though, a little boy younger than Hayven (6) stood close to us like we were the earth he orbits. He was (with) the older crowd but...alone.

Moderate noise turned to chanting, screaming and I hear "kick him!" so I run around the climbing gym to see what's going on while this little boy...watches me go.

I Mom scream..."ARE YOU FOR REAL!!! You just beat up a CHILD?!?" in my deepest, "don't fuck with me" voice, while I see a boy about 8 or 9...bleeding in the grass, laying there looking down away from me trying to cup his blood in his hands.

All the kids stare at me (some 7, some 16) and one says..."they were just playing around."

"It sure doesn't look like it to me" I said, handing the kid a tissue. "Where do you live buddy?" He didn't look up.

He said, "I'm fine." And, I knew what that meant.

I said, "I'm sorry that happened to you. This is so lame."

"Yeah, thanks" he mustered.

The other kids at this point seemed to have his back and I didn't want to embarrass him, or intrude, and I needed to make sure my own kids were ok so I jogged back to the playground trying to hold back my tears. I knew what the whole scene meant and it ached my heart so hard.

I look up and see Hayven standing on the tallest equipment watching and she asked, "Why did that happen? Why is he bleeding?" with tears in her eyes. "I don't know Hayven. Some people who are hurting, really want to hurt people, it's that simple. They really actually want to hurt people."

Our moon child who'd been orbiting us all night was there too. He peered out from behind a pole and said, "They did that to my brother. Them doing that to my brother made me cry."

"Me too buddy," I said. "I'm so sorry that that happened."

I grappled so hard with what to do. Who to call. But the way he acted, really made me feel like he didn't trust authorities to actually help and that if I took him home, he'd get blamed for the "trouble" he brought even if he wasn't the one causing it. Our feelings as children felt very mutual in this regard, with his signal about it being very clear.

I really toiled in my mind, trying to be present to my kids but also obsessing about how to serve, when I noticed Moon child looking to us. So I asked him..."Do you think that your brother would feel safe if I called an adult to come help?"

His instant response was 'no.' No hesitation. No wonderment. Just, no.

My heart sunk. No one to call that feels safe this maybe-five year old, was sure.

"My mom is at work and she'll be real mad if we call. But don't worry...when my big brother (he stutters a few times repeating big brother in his cute innocent body) gets out of work, he'll beat that guy up."

And so...it continues.

Right there. Is how.

It continues.

And they watch.

They watch.

They watch.

I never wanted to leave that moon child of mine. He stared like he wanted the same.

Again I told him I was sorry that happened. When we left he watched us until he couldn't see us anymore.

We walked home and I looked at the moon hoping that that little boy gets to live a life in which he can feel safe enough to look up and soak in the light, really soak it in, surrounded by darkness.

Cause...that's what he is.

Maybe my service tonight, I think, isn't to those being harmed, as much as it is to those...watching, helpless to stop it but who really, really care to.

The little moon children that follow a bit of light on an autumn evening carved in the faces of my family on a walk. Maybe the tissue I gave the kid, and honoring his signals, was enough. Maybe me showing Moon child I care, and I saw it too, and that his brother matters, and this is lame, and I see him see, and that his bike tricks are super brave...was enough even though I wish with all my might, there was more I could do.

And I watch.

I watch.

I watch.

And my heart, it aches and beats. Aches and beats.