That left Michael and me free to explore the rest of the world on our own since his mom was busy with the new baby. We checked out the bits and pieces of all of his toy boxes. We read books. We visited Grandpa Johnson next door and watched TV specials on Thomas the Tank Engine and Dora – two shows that rate far below Dog Whisper for Grandpa. Michael played with Kelvin’s cane for a while. I didn’t have to watch Michael when I returned to the outside turned on the hose. He sprayed the back porch, the birch tree, the wind tunnel and sometimes himself when he had the hose turned in the wrong direction.
Our best trip happened when the rain had stopped. We walked along twenty-fourth avenue. At first he splashed in every puddle, including the small bits of water that collect in sidewalk depressions, like the words 24 Avenue at the end of the block. You have to stamp hard and a lot of times to get water to slash out of those little crevices. He didn’t have on his shoes, which was OK by me, for I don’t have to run as fast if he makes a break for absolute freedom and encounters pebbles.
By the time we were going down the back alley, the bigger puddles were his target. At the largest one, he carefully placed me behind it and then shoved. I cooperated but took a giant leap over the puddle. I didn’t know that he was holding onto my jeans with both hands as he pushed, so I accidentally dragged him through the puddle, the waves from his body splashing forward so that I was as soaked as he. Well not really, for he did a full body plant in the puddle, only his head not getting wet, hanging onto my jeans until the bitter end. He didn’t murmur. Just looked surprised, leaped up and ran to find the next puddle.
When we moved into our neighbourhood nearly fifty years ago, it was already an older development. No one has become any younger. There are so few children in our community that Miranda can tell which houses have children and on which blocks. Later in the afternoon Michael and I saw, coming home from school, two children skipping along the sidewalk, one ahead of the other. When Michael saw them coming, he turned his back on them and walked half way up a neighbour’s sidewalk. He didnt’ have the courage to acknowledge them. I am guessing he thinks the world is only full of old people. When they had passed, Michael took my hand and we returned home. If he ever decides to run away, Miranda won’t have to look very far to find him, for he will already be on his way back home, should he happen to pass a stranger.
Arta
As much as I am looking forward to meeting and hold little Alice, I am equally excited to finally get to spend time with big brother Michael. I still can hardly believe that "my little brother" (as I still fondly call him) has two babies of his own.
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