The Rainforest

Little Charlie stood on the side of the road and peaked at the two white lines again. They cut right through the middle, and were perfectly parallel to one another. He glanced up at his mom and back at the road. He tried shaking her hand, but she was on the phone and couldn’t be bothered.
Oh but Charlie was itching to go follow the lines, to see what became of them. Just where they ran up and over a small hill, he could see them curve and flow into a river, cutting through rainforests that were sparkling after hours of heavy rain. The trees were awakening with the timid calls of animals building up the courage to come out of their shelters. And the air smelled fresh and free, ready to be filled with the new ventures of a new day.
He started dancing on his feet because now he could hear, just around the corner where the river ducked behind a cluster of palm trees, the water cascading tremendously over a cliff. It roared with power, louder and louder until his eardrums and his heart were pounding. He knew it must be an enormous waterfall, unlike anything he’d ever witnessed. And he knew, too, that somewhere below, amidst the tickling spritzes of water bouncing off the rocks, there was a mermaid, beautiful and expectant. She had her world to show him, and he had his to show her.
Charlie gasped as he sensed her faraway presence.
He broke from his mother’s hand and dashed toward that hill. A car swerved around him and honked with fury.
“Charlie!” His mother screamed and rushed after him.
“Mom! I gotta--”
“What have I told you about crossing the road? Please Charlie, for your own safety, be careful about where you’re going,” she said, and dragged him back to their car.