Shrodinger’s Reality

“But how do you know?” She asked, with an somberness to her expression far beyond her six years of life should hold.

“How do I know what, sweety?” He responded, tone rich with tenderness.

“That people are good. You said they’re good, but that they do bad things sometimes. How do you know they're really good then?”

There was a matter-of-factness in the way she asked, unaware of the true horrors the world could yield. In life things are seldom so clear. Still, unaware may not be the right phrase, more nonplussed. As if the constant grind of the tragedies and everyday atrocities were little more than an aside. There was something beautiful about it, yet haunting. Children have a unique and piercing way of exposing the idiosyncrasies adults perpetuate. Still, it inspires hope in the respondent, and an attempt to preserve that shaming purity.

“I don’t. I can't. No one can know for certain. There might be people that want to do bad things, and there are times it will be beyond our control. What you can control, is how you look at the world and the people in it. And you know what? Most people don't realize how magical that control is. What you think, that’s what helps shape reality. If you want people to be different, you start by thinking of them different. Then you'll start treating them as if they were. And sometimes, treating them like they can be better, helps them see that it’s still worth trying to be. This magic might not work on everyone, but it will help you be happy and good.

He worried that was too much honesty. Kids need to feel safe, but he also did not like lying to her. He tried not to show his concern as he waited for her response.

“Like when all those bees kept bothering us at lunch? And you said not to move. They didn’t go away, but we didn’t get stung either. Is that cause we were good to them?” She asked, eager for affirmation.

Relief overcame him, as he replied with a sly smile, “I still think they thought you were the prettiest flower they’d ever seen and wanted to be close to you. But you’re right, you showed them you didn’t want to hurt them and they didn’t want to hurt you in return. Sometimes people, and bees, just need another option. And now my dear, I love you, more than the bees love flowers. But it is way past time for you to be getting some sleep.”

It wasn't exactly the point he had been trying to make, but the conversation had gone on long enough. He had to get back to work. Still, he was fortunate his employer allowed him to stop home each night to put his daughter to bed.

He laid a gentle kiss on her forehead and shut out the lights. Whispering in a gentle tone, he added “Sweet blueberry pancake dreams, with extra bacon on the side.”. When she first started sleeping in her own bed, she would get scared. He had her imagine her happiest thought before going to sleep. She immediately listed all the breakfast foods she enjoyed most. The close to their goodnight ritual evolved from there.

He was still smiling as he opened the front door, thinking of her breakfast dreams. He hoped he would be back in time to join her. The smile melted from his face as he entered the Lincoln town car that had sat idling out front by the curb.

“Took you long enough.” His partner chided him.

“When you have kids,you’ll get it. Then again, there’s not a broad in a thousand miles dumb enough to let you stick it in her.” He retorted. “Now shut up and drive. One more collection, then I can get some damn sleep. I’m praying to Christ he has the money this time. Donnie’s already had his last chance and I ain’t up for playing the cobbler tonight.”

“Least we’d already be down at the docks, wouldn’t have to drag him far.” His partner added, by way of silver lining. Neither spoke for the rest of the ride.

In the silence that had engulfed the vehicle, he began pondering Donnie’s fate. It occurred to him that the end was a near certainty. He already played it through in his mind, saw the bubbles rising to the water's surface. Air, frantic in it’s search to escape the murky depths, much like it’s originator. As he thought it, he knew his reality was taking shape and there would be no other way tonight.