“These things are so tricky,” Helen thought to herself, attempting to remove a small tarnished silver watch. At last it came loose and disengaged from her delicate wrist. She dangled the thing in front of her for a moment catching the gleam of early sun off of the glass, and held it clutched in her hands as she watched delivery trucks and commuters speed by. A mother pushed a stroller along the sidewalk and tugged two children, a boy and a girl, behind her with thin red leashes attached to their belts. It was a power struggle for the mother to get the stroller and the children to move in the same way, almost like guiding one of those Chinese kites to swing through the air, Helen thought as she watched them walk down the broken pavement between stalks of wildflowers itching their heels. They grew closer and she could hear the children’s voices.
“Mamma, what are those green things there on th’ ground?” the boy leaned down and retrieved some candy wrappers.
“Charlie, drop those, you’ll get germs and cancer!”
“What’s acancer Mamma?” the girl asked.
“It’s very bad, that’s all you need to know.” The mother snapped.
The boy dropped the wrappers and looked up to his mother, “My teacher said that her dad got real sick and they had to cut him up and…”
The little girl started crying.
“I don’t want Charlie to get cut up Mamma!”
“…And they had to pull some junk out of him and then they sewed him back up and…”
“Charlie!” the mother screamed, “You are making your sister cry, now just be quiet until we get to daddy and I’ll get you both ice cream, ok?”
The little girl stopped her crocodile tears and looked up sniffling, “Can we get chocolate and ‘nilla?”
“Yes, baby, just mind mommy and you can have chocolate and vanilla.”
The stroller took a violent swerve when the little boy took an unexpected leap after a cricket.
“Charlie! Stay on the sidewalk, I’m not going to ask you again.”
“And a cherry?” the little girl asked.
“Sure, pumpkin, with a cherry.”
The mother righted herself again and began to walk briskly by the bus stop where Helen waited. The little girl trotted along side her mother, while holding on to her mother’s dress. Helen could see an infant fast asleep in the stroller, she thought of her husband. The little boy was ornery, jumping and sideswiping and singing. Helen could see freshly skinned knees below the edges of brown corduroy shorts. The mother and her stroller passed Helen, but the little boy was trailing, utilizing all the slack in his leash.
“Charlie…” Helen called to the little boy. He looked at her with only a small bit of surprise.
“Uh-Huh.” He replied.
“Here, here you go.” She held the watch out for him to take. He picked up the watch and looked over it without saying a thing. The leash was taught and he was pulled away. He turned back to give Helen one final glance and trailing backwards he offered the watch back to her. No, she waved, and gave him a smile and nod. She could see him in the distance marveling over his new treasure as he skipped off. Her husband gave her that watch, it was all that she had retained, and now that was gone too. A screeching of metal came to the bus stop, the doors to the oversized beast opened and she climbed on.
The bus driver was young and vibrant. She dropped two quarters into the machine and took a seat at the back of the bus. As it moved further down the road she could see the mother again, and Charlie.
