Over the years, Herring had met many children at Coolsville Park. Unfortunately, most whom he encountered were bashful little girls who were intimated by his stocky, unkempt appearance or boys who mocked him for his social awkwardness. Due to these futile interactions, Herring had become a standoffish young boy who no longer attempted much interaction unless he felt the need. Linda proved different immediately.

Unlike he had expected Herring's juvenile declaration for the swing had not deterred the young girl in any way; she did not cry, run to her mother, or allow him his demands in any way. Instead, she countered him, following him when he ran from her, uncertain of what to say to the young girl who responded so differently than what he had become accustomed to. When she did not leave him alone, he knew that there was no choice in denying her line of questioning.

The boy was uncharacteristically shy for a child so large; most his size, as far as Linda had encountered, were usually boisterous and the change surprised her. Being rather outgoing herself, she became impatient while awaiting his reply. Finally, he spoke. "Herring."

The name was unusual, and although she was frightfully sociable for a child so young in that time, she had been raised to use manners and not mock others. Keeping this in mind Linda smiled and extended her hand, mimicking the motions she so often saw her elders repeat when making a new acquaintance. "I'm Mary, Herring; it's nice to meet you."

Herring slowly drew near, taking his hand slowly out of his back pocket, and lightly touched the tips of his fingers to her. "You too," he replied in a gruff yet tentative manner.

The instant his fingers touched hers Linda giggled and grabbed tightly a hold of his hand and shook it vigorously. Her laughter shocked him; though he often heard many children laugh while at the playground it was never because they were happy when with him. Looking down into her soft brown eyes Herring was quickly overwhelmed with emotions that he had not before experienced. As the boy would later describe it, warmth seemed to come from inside his upper chest, flow throughout his body and end up producing an itch to lift the corners of his mouth in similar fashion to the girl before him. In simplicity and actually, Linda had seen it all: Herring had smiled.

As with many children, the friendship came quickly and moved fluidly after that moment. For nearly an hour's time the two were inseparable, climbing about the gym set pretending and imaging as only children do. At Linda's request, they agreed to travel through the Amazon jungles. While Mrs. Mostel looked on she spotted the two jumping from cobble stone above the sand in attempt not to step into any "pits of quicksand," crossing the monkey bars in order to "Swing from tree to tree! Quickly! Avoid angering the chimps!", and finally gravitate down the slide to "Go down the waterfall!"

Though amused with their childish ways and obvious joy, Mrs. Mostel did not watch without noticing the obvious lack of care applied to the boy's hygiene. Her thoughts were interrupted however, as the mother beside resumed speaking of such things that mothers often do and her thoughts escaped her for a time. Meanwhile, the children played on.

"You're different, Linda," Herring spoke with a booming laughter accompanying as they 'plopped' at the bottom of the slide, ending their Amazon amusements.

"Daddy says different is wonderful," Linda replied, taking the boys hand in her own and tugging him towards the shade underneath the jungle gym.

"Is your Daddy nice?" The question was simply that, no fear, nor much curiosity for such a question that surprised Linda.

"Of course he is; isn't your Daddy?" She replied in a surprised state, nearly upset that he implied her father could be any other way.

"I don't really know," Herring paused, contemplating his answer.

At seven years old there is much left for a child to learn, but it does not mean he is currently incompetent. Herring had seen other children with their fathers while at the park; he had even sworn that Linda was not an altogether new face for him (though he had never spoke to her before that day) and that he had seen her with her father at least half a dozen times. He knew very well what a father was in correlation to a child, but was unaware as to where or who his own father was. He watched his mother go off to work the same way most of the fathers did and though he didn't ask, he knew that he must have had a father at one time. His mother, though, he understood was not like others and so he simply accept that his father must not have been like most either.

"I've never met my father; but I'm sure he's different. If your father says different is wonderful, than my father must be too!" Herring articulated his point clearly and with a matter of fact attitude that made Linda agree instantly.

Being children, the adult matter did not rest for long in their conversation and the two quickly resumed their imaginary play. Linda, who obviously carried the bolder imagination of the two, requested their next play be "house," her thoughts having traveled from their previous discussion. Finding it difficult to refuse the pixie-like girl whatever she wished Herring consented. He was quickly told, however, that they needed to be married first, since Linda declared her "mother wouldn't find it proper any other way."

Linda told Herring in an adorably docile way where to stand and to smile when he saw her walking towards him. When she reached the imaginary alter where Herring stood, she giggled at his silent ways.

"Herring," Linda observed, "You have to tell me you love me and that we'll eat holy macaroni."

"I love you, Linda; what's holy macaroni?" Herring repeated with a large smile despite his ignorance.

"It's a food my mommy makes, and holy means it's really good; they talked about it at my Aunt's wedding, maybe you can come to my house and eat some tomorrow."

Finding her description and invitation satisfactory, Herring simply nodded and was about to continue with their play when he watched Linda's head turn immediately towards the old Oak where her mother previously sat. His attention, likewise, slowly drifted towards the fully stretched figure with medium height and rather short hair in comparison to most at the time. The smile on her face made her seem radiant and energetic, an older version of her daughter in so many ways. The floppy derby hat she wore made him smile as well, reminding him of women on the posters for movies. Her sundress was white with a bright yellow ribbon around the waist and color seemed to fit her entirely, a warm bright shade of sunshine. He nodded to himself, Linda was just like her mother, full of warmth, energy, and a certain gentleness of women during that time.

" Hurry sweetheart, you don't want Daddy to be waiting on his Firefly to wash up for dinner, do you?" Mrs. Mostel's voice was much gentler than anticipated and Herring instantly decided it sounded 'right' coming from a mother.

In response Linda smiled and shouted, "No mother!"

She turned about on her toes, mimicking the movements of a young ballerina as she turned to face Herring once again. Being that he was much taller, she bounced upon her toes and placed an innocent peck of care and warmth upon his cheek. The warm summer breeze picked up just then and seemed to carry her from him as she ran off to her mother giggling and soon began walking away hand in hand with her mother.

Herring watched until they reached the edge of the park, unable to contain himself any longer. He ran quickly after them while he smiled and shouted, "Linda, Linda!"

Both Linda and her mother immediately paused in their stride and turned on their heels to face the young boy with matching smiles. Linda tilted her head with a happy curiosity and quickly responded to his calls of her name. "What is it, Herring?"

He paused a moment, allowing the air to come back into his lungs first, "I want marry you."

Thankfully, Linda's mother was aware of her daughter's active imagination and had overheard the childrens' games prior to their leave, so she was able to cover any looks of surprise with a small, sweet smile. Linda, however, disassociated the play from real life and smiled bashfully at his request. She slowly let go of her mother's hand and took a step closer to Herring. She timidly took his hand in her own and giggled before saying, "Tomorrow we can have macaroni and when we get older, I'll marry you for forever."

Happy with her avowal, Herring kissed her cheek lightly as she had done earlier and quickly ran back to the playground. Meanwhile, Linda's mother watched him with a special care and curiosity; something about the young boy was different and she was determined to help him no matter the trouble. Additionally, she admired the gentleness she saw in him and thought the puppy love between the two was perhaps what the young boy needed more than anything else. Her daughter's cheerful voice slowly tore her from the thoughts. "Will you be at my wedding, Mommy?"

"Of course dear," Herring heard her distantly reply. "But first, let's go home and plan a picnic for us and your friend Herring tomorrow. We can brings macaroni, grapes…"

Herring smiled as the voices trailed off into the distance, leaving him for the day as all voices usually did. However, smile wasn't because the voices left, but because the warmth of the promise of "tomorrow" stayed with him long after they had gone.

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A.N. Just for clarification, this chapter and the previous occur at a different time period from the Blake/Masters story-line. Eventually, however, everything will make sense. I promise. Also, if you are still sticking with this story, a HUGE thank you. Today I finished the outline for it, so I'm hoping to update it at least once a week now, I'm so sorry for the previous hiatus. - Emmalie "TaR"