I figured maybe I’m riding my bike too much looking for crimes. I figured it might be easier for my life to find me if I stayed put. So this morning I never left the porch. I rocked on the rocking chair.
I saw everything. The old lady across the street sweeping her driveway. Cars going by. People walking. Cats. Squirrels.
Nothing exciting. Nothing that would let me know that my new life showed up.
No crimes. Well, not officially. There was one thing that I personally would call a crime if I was a judge. It was a girl and a little kid. Her brother, I guess. The girl was pulling the kid along in a red wagon. The little kid was yelling, “Take me now!” The girl was yelling, “No!”
“Take me now!”
“No!”
That’s how they went past my house:
“Now!”
“No!”
The girl looked my age. She wore a blue-and-yellow baseball cap. I didn’t know her. Every time the runt said “Now!” he thumped the wagon with his feet. I felt like putting the cuffs on his feet. I could still hear them a block away:
“Now!”
“No!”
That was the big event of my fascinating day.