I stood aimlessly looking out the window while waiting for the water to boil for my tea. It was an odd sort of day. The skies were grey but the temperatures were warm. Some of the trees were completely bare and their naked branches clutched at the sky like scraggly fingers. Other trees were full with fall color having survived the few bits of rain and wind of the season.
As I watched the odd little pattern the naked and full trees made, a silver SUV pulled into a slot across the street. The tires bumped the curb making a soft thud. The driver then backed up a bit lopsided and once again hit the curb, as though he were trying to drive over it. My spine tingled as I moved a bit closer to the glass to investigate.
The car was not moving but the taillights were on. I squinted in an effort to see the license plate. Another minute passed and I was certain that the driver was a crazy, inebriated ex who was planning to drive his car through my neighbor’s front door. My mind raced ahead as I mentally planned grabbing my shoes running down the stairs and out the door to save my neighbor from disaster. “Oh no, what if one of the children goes running by,” I thought with panic rising. I would have to move fast but I was sure I could do it.
I moved a little to the side watching the unmoving car. A few moments later the door opened. My mind raced wildly with dizzying questions – Should I call 911? Should I get my bat? I kept watching the car as I plotted to take down the murderer or at the very least call the police.
The minutes ticked away and by now the kettle was boiling. I ignored the sound and kept watching. The door was still open and I saw a shoulder emerge and then disappear back inside the car. Several moments passed and then the figure slowly emerged. I held my breath, watching and waiting. Finally, the door began to close and I drew in my breath, waiting to see the crazed mad man whom I would soon have to take down.
He was hunched over and moving slowly, shuffling really, using his cane to find the ground in front of him before taking a step. My crazed mad man was a sweet little old man who clearly had a little trouble with his eyesight!
turned toward him to tune in to the conversation that he had apparently been having with me. He then pointed to a big Tonka truck and told me to say “Hi” to Tom. I saw a truck, rather large but otherwise nondescript. But Ryan saw a magical world where two toy trucks became Tom and Jerry (his favorite cartoon characters). Ryan is still young enough to allow his imagination to create magic from the ordinary.