Sunday Morning

Tab is scheduled to photograph a wedding in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania next month. He arranged to meet the bride and groom there today to see where the ceremony and reception will be held and to scout out some good picture locations. Bethlehem is about a two hour drive away from here; Tab left at 9:30 and will be gone all day.

This leaves me with the three boys and no car. Originally the weather forecast had called for rain today, so I'd borrowed a few kids' videos from the library and planned an indoor day of movies and games. Since the weather had surprised us by turning out to be sunny, I didn't want to keep the boys cooped up indoors. Unfortunately, living in the city as we do, there are not a lot of outdoor activities for the boys. If it had been hot today, I would have filled up the wading pool from the garden hose and let the boys play in the water. The wading pool will have to wait for warmer weather, however.

Instead, I decided to take the boys out on their bikes. We keep the bikes locked in the shed in our backyard. While I unlock the shed and remove the bikes, the boys retrieve their helmets and pads from the closet in Daniel's room. They put on their helmets and knee pads themselves, but I have to help them with their elbow pads.

Our backyard is completely fenced in. Usually I lift the bikes over the fence into our Ukrainian neighbors' driveway; however, today I decided just to unlock the back gate and take the boys out into alley. I shut the gate behind us and we're off.

All the boys' bikes are yard sale finds, courtesy Tab, Yard Sale Shopper Extraordinare. Stephen and Matthew are between bike sizes right now. Matthew's training wheel bike is just a little too small for him while Stephen's bike, the next size up, is just a little too big for him. But they all manage tolerably well.

On weekends Tab often takes the boys to Veterans Park where they can ride on the bike trails. Riding around the neighborhood is not as much fun because of all the intersections. We have to stop at each one and check for traffic. The boys dismount and walk their bikes across the street when I give the OK. I've decided we will head for the local elementary school. Tab has told me the parking lot there is fenced in and a great place for the boys to ride around.

One block up and one block over from our house, we are under attack. A little boy, about 5 or 6 years old, suddenly appears at the corner brandishing a water rifle. I have no idea whether that lurid pink and green weapon is filled with water, but on a cool day such as today I don't want to find out. Drawing up myself up straight, I glare at him with my best motherly frown.

"Does your mother know you point that thing at strangers?" I ask. He stops in his tracks, looks confused, then slinks back around the corner.

We are almost to the school when Matthew suddenly falls. His bike had hit a rut in the sidewalk and one of the training wheels had gone up. I don't have a wrench with me so there is no way of fixing it here.

"Sorry, guys. We'll have to go home."

Stephen and Daniel groan a little, but they turn their bikes around. I hoist Matthew's bike and start walking home, Matthew trotting alongside me. On the way home I pass the boy with the water gun. He sees me and whispers to his little friend who stares at me with big eyes. They leave us alone, though.

When we get home, I put Matthew's bike on the back porch for Tab to fix. The boys want to continue to ride out front, so I retrieve Matthew's old plastic bike for him to use. Then I take my novel outside to read while they ride. Mindful of those red ants I saw the other day, I bring a folding chair to sit on.

The door opens next door at the Ukrainian house and a few of the many adults who live there emerge, along with a little boy. A few weeks ago we saw Maria, one of the Ukrainian women, walking with this boy. She told us that his name is Andre, that he is seven, and that he is her niece's son. He doesn't live next door but with his parents in a nearby town.

The boys spot him right away. "Hi, Andre!" called out the always sociable Stephen.

Andre watches from the porch while the boys ride up and down the sidewalk. Occasionally he speaks to one of his relatives in a rapid flood of consonant-studded Ukrainian. Stephen chatters away at him, trying to get him to come play but Andre either can't understand or is too shy.

I suddenly remember the sidewalk chalk we have stored in the shed. I decide to bring it out, thinking maybe Andre would enjoy drawing with the boys.

My boys eagerly grab pieces of chalk and start drawing patterns on the sidewalk. Daniel draws a hopscotch grid; Stephen and Matthew draw random squiggles and blotches. They invite Andre to join them, but he shakes his head no.

Then one of them gets the idea to color the bricks that make up the porch. Soon all three are busily coloring them in. Matthew takes particular glee in chalking over the numerous tiny red bugs that swarm all over the porch. The chalk drawing keeps the boys busy for a good forty-five minutes while I sit in my chair, chat with the neighbors, and finish my book.

"Come see, Mama!" they call to me.

I am astonished when I see their finished project. They have colored in every single brick on the front of the porch that we share Lorraine. Instead of the usual dull red, the porch is an eye-catching crazy quilt of color.

"Daddy will be surprised!" Matthew says.

"He sure will," I answer. "Let's go in, guys. It's time for lunch."

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