I like to watch him through the kitchen window (hidden away, like a lover, in the soft shadows) of the house. I stand there next to the screen and dusty louvers enthralled by the marvel of this savage being that I birthed five years ago. His movements, words and thoughts captivate me and I, become enchanted. Viewing him uncensored, not playing up to someone's perception I feel as if I can see his true essence, which at this moment in time is all "snips of snails and puppy dog tails."
"I'll get you," he yells at the invisible enemy he's encountered and he waves his stick around as if it was a precious sword that's been forged in the blazing furnace of a medieval blacksmith's. He takes wild swings at the air as he yells, "ha, yeah, take this and that." Finally, with one slow deep dramatic stab he stands there momentarily and declares, "You're dead." He drops his stick down on the ground, tired with his killing game and races to his bicycle.
He feverishly pedals around the yard expertly avoiding plastic balls and the white plumeria trees but always running through the mud puddles in the driveway and towards the scampering dogs retreating from his sight. He's in a trance and he can't stop moving round and round. He cocks his head to the side and extends his arm out. He separates his fingers to let the wind rush through them and as he pedals he metamorphoses and has become one with the flow of air. He's a tan gust of blur whirling around and unsettling the leaves as he passes along.
He abruptly stops and drops his bicycle as he gets off of it. " Oh, I'm dizzy" he declares to no one in particular as he stumbles about drunk on life. Unable to walk a steady course he dramatically falls on the ground declaring "Ah", as he lands. He laughs loudly to himself as he lies on his back and stares at the fiery red billowy clouds parading high in the infinite sky. An unsuspecting gecko gently crawls onto his mountainous arm. He glances at his arm and his eyes sparkle like stars. In a flash he grabs the creature with his strong fingers. The gecko kicks his slinky little legs scratching his captor with his tiny nails as he desperately trys to escape. He rises, gripping the gecko tighter almost suffocating it. He is unaware of the tremendous strength he has. The poor gecko goes limp and becomes submissive.
He slowly walks over to the impressive mango tree. The tree has low hanging branches that span out of its center which are irresistible to climb. He's talking to his little friend as he walks sharing little bits of this and that. With one hand free and the other clenched he climbs a branch and sits down. He slowly and delicately opens his small fingers like a blossoming flower, exposing the gecko to the filtered light of the trees canopy. The gecko blinks a couple of times and darts out of his hand and runs. It soon becomes camouflaged among the trees bark and seems to have vanished like magic. "Bye." He yells into the seemingly emptiness.
He himself easily jumps down off the tree and lands with a loud thud. He's landed on top of some weeds that have a vibrant purple flower. With his mouth open he bends down and starts to pick them. He has a big shining smile on his face as he straightens up and runs towards the welcoming house. "Mom, look at what I have for you." He excitedly yells as he enters through the door muddy, sweaty and joyful.
