- 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓕𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵𝔂 -

Chapter 20: Little Child

April 5, 1970

Sunday afternoon, 3:40 p.m.

The Beatles had a nice Sunday picnic at the Field of Hope in Sefton Park, which was a vast expanse of green filled with thick blades of grass and sprightly golden daffodils. The sun shone at its brightest on the lush earth, its rays of light dancing back and forth through the clouds as if it were teasing everyone to come out and play. Ringo soon succumbed to the temptation and ran out into the open greenery, dragging his blue kite along with him. George stood by and kept a watchful eye on his little brother, but deep down, he was in the lowest of spirits. The thought of being the new "man of the house" filled him with terror and nausea; he didn't feel that he was ready to undertake such an arduous position, especially at such a young age. 

A few days earlier, he spat and cursed the wind for his wretched fate. How the hell was he supposed to guard his family when he was only seventeen? How was he expected to adjust to such a mature position in such a short nick of time? He didn't know, and it filled him with so much anger, so much angst, he wanted so badly to scream at the top of his lungs. He could feel that he was carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders, and all he wanted to do was to run away and never come back...but he couldn't abandon his mother and brother like that. No, not like that. 

He soon reached the conclusion that he had to be strong. If Paul depended on him to be the next man of the house, then he was going to be the next man of the house, without question. He was going to have to take life by the reins and trudge on forward without any whines or complaints. Once his father was gone for good, people were going to be depending on him. 

John and Paul sat side-by-side on the checkered picnic blanket, munching away on egg sandwiches and sausage rolls, trying to savour their last ever family picnic together before the dreaded divorce. Ringo was still unaware that his parents were going to split, so he didn't have a care in the world as he raced through the grass with his kite soaring far behind him. The sun shone brightly on his beaming face, on his sparkling blue eyes, on his fluffy brown hair. At that moment in time, he was the epitome of a truly happy little boy. 

John and Paul watched as their son ran back and forth with his blue kite, his chest puffing in and out as he sped around the field as fast as he could. 

"Mummy, Daddy, look at me!!" he cried triumphantly. "I'm a cheetah! See how fast I can run! See, see!"

John chuckled. "You're one adorable cheetah, Ring!" he yelled.

"Nooo!" Ringo groaned. "Not adorable! Think of something else! Think of another word!"

Paul smiled and lay down on the picnic blanket. "Oh, John, when are we gonna tell him?" he sighed.

"Hm?" John frowned. "Tell him what?"

"Y'know," Paul nodded. "About the divorce."

A cloud passed over John's face for a moment. "Oh," he muttered flatly. "Well...I guess we can tell him tonight..."

All of a sudden, Ringo waved his arms in the air and yelled, "Daddy, Daddy, think of another word!!"

John heaved a weary sigh, squinting at their bouncing son. "But for now, Paulie, let's just watch him be a happy kid while we still can..."

And as he uttered those words, Ringo whooped and jumped and shrieked, grazing freely through the daffodils like a little child in paradise.

The End.