Peter's park bench was made of very sad and decaying wood; the kind you'd imagine was once painted a rich shade of mahogany before it started collecting termites, bird droppings, clumps of chewing gum and unoriginal graffiti. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be a crooked, splintered seat that you wouldn't dare rest your butt on for fear of it collapsing beneath you, or of impaling you with old rusty nails, or even in the best interests of your hygiene. . Of course, I was as ignorant as the rest, in utter disbelief that the ancient, rotten, weathered piece of wood could ever be anything more than that. It was April 1, 2002, a pretty boring day in world history, in my opinion. I remember quite clearly that it was also Monday. A terribly horrible, horrible Monday spent at Ames Public High, studying arithmetic and counting the minutes until the bell rang and I would be free to leave. I know that as soon as the doorbell rang I rushed down the main hallway, my first iPod clutched in my sweaty hands and my backpack flapping on my back as I headed toward the park. Joey had said he would meet us at the Peter's Park bench in his father's car at 4pm, and then we would go to Suzanne's house. I still wasn't sure what he planned to do once we got there, but my stomach was already knotted at the idea of ​​traveling in a car without an adult, let alone getting anywhere! Not to mention going to Suzanne. I waited for Joey for a full hour, standing next to the hideous bench while swinging my legs and fiddling with my Nokia. Where was he? It was very late and it would get dark soon. At exactly 5pm I plopped onto the bench in a huff, swinging my bag onto the seat next to me. I can't... halfway down the paper... Yeah man." I breathed, unable to properly digest what had just happened. Did I really know what had just happened? "I'll be there in 5, tops. You're there, right? I Told to be there at 4. You better not be late! “I looked at the clock; it was ten to ten. "Joey, is it April 1st?" I asked him. “Right, buddy. We will see each other soon." We never ended up going to Suzanne. We made it to the servo before we were stopped and Sarge had to take us home. Joey was down, so the next morning I went back to the park to take another look at the bench. This time I went by bike, determined to get there as quickly as possible. The only problem is that it wasn't there. The bench was gone, just like the newspaper and the world I had discovered the night before. It is now April 1, 2022 and no one still knows what happened to the Peter's Park bench. Nobody but me.