The view from here

> Mar, 28, 2063

Like most Saturdays, the coffee truck pulled into the neighborhood park at 7AM.

Stepping out to set up the coffee stand, PICO polled its environmental sensor:

Temperature: 6°C
   Humidity: 70%
       Wind: 3.3 m/s

Expected early-spring weather, until you remember that they call this region the “Coast of Sunshine” — which is only true for about 3 summer months.

Looking out from the truck’s window, patches of frost from the night before still clung to the grass. The damp air and wind made things feel colder, but perhaps not cold enough. Out in the park, joggers were tracing loops around the wide grass field, while dogs dragged their owners along to do their morning “business”.

Being this early, there were usually no patrons. Thus PICO’s sensors drifted across the park. Then, the motion sensors registered something moving fast at the nearby intersection, drawing PICO’s attention. There, an excited toddler was running, her yawning dad trailing behind.

“Eleanor, slow down,” her father shouted, rushing to hold her hand while crossing the intersection. But as soon as his grip relaxed, Eleanor escaped, exclaiming “blue playground” as she ran into the play area.

Eleanor was about the same height as PICO, barely one-meter high. She was wrapped tightly in a cyan puffer jacket with a blue and orange dog pattern. An orange, dog-shaped knit cap sat on top of her curly, hazel, shoulder-length hair, which bounced with each step.

Behind Eleanor, her father took out a beanie and pulled it over his graying hair. Dark circles sat under his puffy eyes, which struggled to remain open. As Eleanor climbed the slide, he plopped down on the bench, yawned for the tenth time and closed his eyes for a second too long. Eventually, he pulled a phone out and began scrolling as he half-watched Eleanor.

A little bit later, a dog and its owner strolled by. Eleanor ran towards the dog, waving: “Hello puppy, hi puppy! What’s your name?” The owner smiled: “He is Gus.” Eleanor said, “I’m Eleanor. My papa is Martin. Who’s your papa?” Thus the banter between toddler and dog (owner) continued for a good while.

After the “conversation” with the dog, Eleanor ran back to the playground again. This time, she crouched over flowers that grew between cracks in the concrete: daisies, buttercups, dandelions, etc. Then her attention wandered to the ladybug on a nearby bush, the puddle at the corner and the discarded burger wrapper. For each of them, she ran towards Martin, pulled his finger, and pointed at what she found. “So pretty, papa!” she exclaimed. Martin — half-asleep and half-scrolling — only answered in single words without looking up from the phone. That was until Eleanor tried to show him an octopus graffitied onto the slide: “PAPA. Look. At. This!” she said, stomping her foot on the ground.

Eventually, Eleanor’s attention shifted to the swing. By this time, the sun had broken through the gray overcast. A few patches of sunshine appeared, making the air warmer. This prompted more kids and their parents to come out to the park. And so, Martin and Eleanor found themselves next to another boy and his dad at the swing.

PICO noted the fact that the other boy and his father were “contextually different” from Eleanor and Martin: deep, dark skin; wrists too thin where their jackets’ sleeves rode up; muted jackets that had faded at the elbows. But it couldn’t quite resolve the weight those carried — that required a different kind of processing.

Despite their many differences, both kids still laughed heartily when their swings sped up and urged their dads to go faster when the momentum slowed down. One detail stood out, however: while the other boy’s dad stood in front and interacted with his son, Martin stood behind Eleanor’s back, mechanically pushing the swing with one hand while holding the phone in the other.

After a while, something changed. Perhaps it was the heartfelt laughter nearby. Perhaps it was just a moment of randomness. But Martin turned his head and looked at the other boy and his father. There, he saw a face with puffy eyes and dark circles — also tired, clearly — but the happiness in his eyes couldn’t be hidden.

Martin’s gaze stayed on the other dad for a good three seconds. Then he lightly shook his head and put the phone back into his pocket. Eleanor noticed immediately: she laughed louder and longer. And her smile never disappeared.

Having spent a good ten minutes on the swing, Martin and Eleanor continued their exploration around the park. With Martin fully engaged, their play turned much more energetic than before: Eleanor chased Martin across the field; raced him up and down the small hill at the edge of the park; chased the few (unfortunate) crows that landed nearby. Eleanor’s infectious energy spread to Martin, who laughed along with her.

Alas, their two hours of adventure came to an end. This time Martin held Eleanor’s hand as they walked towards PICO’s coffee truck, looking for some drinks.

“A black coffee for me, please,” said Martin. Then he corrected himself: “Actually, coffee with extra milk and sugar instead.”

Not wasting any time, Eleanor asked: “Papa, what do I have?”

Thinking for a bit, Martin replied: “And warm milk for her, too.”

PICO started turning towards the brewing station. But before it could take a step, Eleanor tugged her dad’s hand and said: “Papa, you want milk too.” That made PICO’s processor pause for a good ten seconds, trying to determine if that was a request.

A few minutes later, PICO emerged with two cups of warm milk. “Excuse me—” Martin trailed off, his expression somewhere between surprise and recognition. He looked at the cups, then at Eleanor, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “It’s okay,” he said, taking the cups. Then he crouched down to hand Eleanor her milk and patted her on the head.

As the father-daughter duo walked home, PICO’s sensors trailed behind them, noticing that each was holding a drink and the other person’s hand.