HomeHats
by Linda Casper
He sped down the promenade on his skateboard at a rate of knots. The breeze caught his cut offs and they billowed like the sails of a ship. He half crouched, half stood sideways on the board. As he made a turn the slogan on his T-shirt was revealed; Life’s a Beach. Day trippers with polystyrene trays of fish and chips in their hands turned to follow his progress. Some were tutting at the disruption to their stroll, while others marveled at the skateboarder’s skill. He swiveled his baseball cap to and fro depending on the position of the sun in his eyes until a sudden gust of wind dislodged it.
The man on the bench had a straggly, grey beard. His anorak and track suit bottoms had seen better days and the woolly hat looked like it hadn’t been removed for quite a while, even though the weather had been kind lately. When the skateboarder’s cap landed at his feet, it seemed as if the man hardly registered its presence. In fact, the cap brought back memories of another time and another place. Of better days, when his salary could pay for a family holiday abroad, before the drink became a problem. He remembered taking his daughter out in a boat, both wearing red baseball caps decorated with Benidorm and a black bull. The sea breeze had blown away his daughter’s cap, but he could easily afford to replace it back then.
A little girl on a pink tricycle wearing a sunhat pedalled along the promenade for all she was worth. Coloured ribbons like cheerleaders wave were attached to the handlebars. Following her was a woman on her mobile phone. The sound of her conversation punctuated by laughter carried in the wind. As the little girl reached the bench, she stopped, picked up the baseball cap from the ground and offered it to the man in the woolly hat. The woman began to sprint towards her shouting, “Put it down! Put it down!,” drawing attention from those nearby. The woman grabbed the child and hitched her over her shoulder and picked up the bike with the other hand. She suddenly stopped still, all urgency forgotten.
“Dad?”
Just then the skateboarder arrived and swooped down to retrieve his cap from where it had fallen and set it back on his head.
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Linda Casper hails from Yorkshire and, after a long career as a high school teacher, she has recently begun to write and has had many short stories, poems and travel articles published. Linda has a keen interest in gardening and is a judge for Yorkshire in Bloom.
