Watchman

The coast was clear. At least, it was for a minute or two. William didn’t have the timing down just right yet, in fact, he didn’t know what timing was yet. He knew that she was sitting on the couch and staring at the big glowing box as big ones tended to do. She wouldn’t look his way for a few minutes. He seized the opportunity – it was time to get up. He pushed up on his hands, stood to his feet, wobbled a second, and put one foot in front of the other. There, he thought, that was how to do it. Balance was a new and important thing he didn’t always master with the first try, which was frustrating many times, but now he had it, and his feet and legs were in full cooperation with his scheme.

He toddled past the cat, Cupcake, who was sitting on the air vent on the floor. She looked funny with her long fur flying around her face and her eyes squeezed shut as if it hurt. Cupcake cracked an eye open for a second as he passed. Then, figuring out that he was not going to pay her a visit, she settled back into slumber. He was tempted to run his fingers through her soft long fur, but he had seen something a few minutes ago that the babysitter had not, and he was hoping it would still be there. Just a few more steps and he would be past the kitchen table. He felt his left foot wobble, though, and he fell, thud, onto his backside. Of all the luck! He willed himself not to cry. Besides, it didn’t really hurt with all of the padding in his diaper. He was only frustrated because he had to get back up again.

Determined he rolled over onto his knees and pushed himself back up again, holding onto the chair leg to steady himself. The chair felt cool and hard, and he banged on the metal leg. It made a soft bong sound. He stepped away from the table, checked his balance again, and tottered toward the laundry room door. Aha! It was open, like he had seen earlier. Someone had forgotten to close it. What luck! He grabbed hold of the door frame and stepped into the room, looking at the recycling bin to his left. It was big and blue with a triangle on the side of it. Its sides were just high enough to hold everything, but low enough so that he could reach in and grasp its contents. Both hands holding the side, he peered over into the bin. What fun he could have! There, sitting on top of the other things in the bin, was a big plastic jug. He pulled it out of the bin and sat down with it on the floor. It felt hard and bumpy, like an orange. He dragged his fingernails over it and it made a hollow scratching sound. Even more exciting was the picture of the moo-cow on the side. Oh, it was his lucky day! Never before had he touched the big jug that mama poured the milk from, but he always wanted to. He didn’t know what all he could do with it, but he desperately wanted to try it out.

“William?” the babysitter called out, and he heard her get up off of the couch, heard the pad-pad of her feet, and stood up, using the milk jug for leverage. He walked to the door and smiled, hoping she wouldn’t notice the jug in his hands.
“What have you got there, little man?” Deborah asked with a soft twang to her voice. She scooped him up with the jug still in his hands, smiling. "If you wanna play with the milk jug I’ll show you how,” and she opened a drawer and took out a long wooden spoon. She sat down with him on her lap on the kitchen floor. While he still held the jug, she tapped on the side of it with the spoon. It sounded like a song, TAP-dun-dun-dun. Tap-dun-dun. She began to sing, “My mama said if I’d be good and watch the telephone,” TAP-dun-dun, “that she would send me out to buy a chocolate ice cream cone, “TAP-TAP, “And so I did the thing she said, and then she made some gingerbread,” TAP-dun-dun, “so I went out, just me alone, to buy a chocolate ice cream cone”. William sat on her lap as she tapped away, singing the song about a little boy who wanted an ice cream cone and lost it to a mean old dog. Deborah’s voice resonated in his ears with the sound of the milk jug like a symphony. He didn’t know how long they sat there, her singing and tapping on the side of the milk jug, him mesmerized by the sound of a song he had never heard before and the discovery of the sound he could make with a spoon and a milk jug. It was the most amazing discovery he had ever made, he thought, his eyes beginning to drift closed as the smile widened on his lips. He forgot about his parents, and didn’t care what time they came home from work today. He just knew the song and the jug and Deborah. They made him feel warm and calm. In that moment, he knew nothing else.