From that same piece....

"Bye momma!" yelled Rachel as she skipped down the asphalt lane, still quite oblivious to the cruelty people inflict on each other in this world. Her green checkered dress parachuted around her each time she landed. Up, up, she would be swept up into the air, her dress, her hair, clinging to her. Then down, down, she would be flying, dress blooming, hair streaming, and though gravity pulled at her; she was flying. Then she would gently collide with the earth before launching into the air again.
Freddy was there, watching her. Sure, Rachel's youth was not that "T.V. perfect" vision, but as he watched her flying, he saw the essense of innocence. She flew like a bird.
Freddy walked to her, easily matching her pace, and made a "kissy face" at her.
"Silly Freddy," giggled Rachel, still bounding along. She skipped a few more steps, then stopped and turned to him seriously. "Freddy?" she asked, "What game?" Freddy rubbed his chin and looked up with feigned thought, then lifted a single finger to the air brillantly.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed, Rachel stared, enthralled, "Tickle time!" and thus commenced a great struggle. He leaped on her with the grace of a tiger, throwing her to the ground. Surprised, she begged for mercy, giggling, as he ruthlessly searched for those guarded areas that feel so funny.
"I'll get you, Freddy," she laughed, her own hands quickly tickling his ribs. Screaming and laughing, they rolled into the dirt. Conquer or be conquered, they grabbed and pulled. Control rose and fell as did they, enjoying every second of it. Uninhibitated, they laughed. They were carefree. Suddenly, Freddy found that sweet spot, that place that makes you squirm and hit and cry. Rachel's smile grew to comical proportions.
"No!" she barely choked out between wild gasps and hysterical laughter. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she laughed so hard she could barely breath, and then her giggles turned to that silent, open-mouthed laugh where your eyes grow huge and you can't breath in or out. She kicked and flailed out and only when the tears spilled down her cheeks did Freddy cease. Rachel's chest heaved as she desperately tried to regain composure. But her smile never faded. No matter how much she protested or lashed out, they both knew that she loved to be tickled. Freddy rolled onto his side, taking a deep relaxed breath. Rachel turned to her side, facing him.
"Freddy," she asked, "Do you remember the 'old world' my momma always talks about?" His face scrunched up in confusion.
" Why would you want to know about that?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied, "I just sometimes wonder about it." Rachel lied down on her back, while Freddy carefully contemplated.
"Rachel," he began slowly, "I really don't remember..."