The Boy, The Bike, The Blunder

Fewer people have been driving about since the shelter in place orders have been in place. When traffic was heavier, especially when Garden Highway was under construction, the half of our neighborhood across West El Camino went unseen by us.

Fewer people pass by now. It's sometimes quiet enough to remind me of playing on the freshly paved road in front of my grandparents home from childhood. When my wife and I are on walks in the evening, the traffic and distance to a crosswalk usually deter us from venturing across. Yesterday, as we left the house, I noticed the quiet again.

We'd already trotted across the street once in the last couple of weeks. We discovered one road back there that is entirely lined with tract homes; all similar shades, shapes and landscapes. There's a home tucked away under a canopy of old trees, a yard littered with unaltered felines of all colors and temperaments — truly, most of the cats are awful. Yesterday, we also discovered one of the neighborhood kids and his new electric dirt bike.

Keli and I had just turned the corner to see what all of the tract houses looked like up close. I heard the buzzing of some sort of electric toy vehicle coming closer, but just assumed it was a power wheels or a scooter and didn't look around until I heard the commotion.

As he'd turned the corner to the street we were now walking down, this young skinny boy overestimated his ability to maneuver on his toy. Down he came, thin long legs in shorts, one of his adidas slides fell off and the bike landed on top of him.

It would have been quite the gruesome scene, were this a real dirt bike. Luckily, the boy just had a heap of thick blue and silver plastic with an electric motor on his leg. There was a look, though. The look comes to everyone at different ages. The idea of being absolutely invulnerable was dissolving before him.

But before that comes is a surveying of the scene. As if thinking, "Did anyone see me? Am I hurt? I'll bet I'm hurt. I don't think this is ok and it makes me sad..."

"You doing ok?, " I asked, turning fully towards him and stepping into the street, then lifting his bike from on top of him.

He leaned up on his elbows, then let out "I'll NEVER do this again! OUCH! OW OW!," so Keli approached him too, to give him a once-over.

"You seem to be ok. Maybe you scratched your leg. Oh yes, a little here," she said over the sound of his sniffles and more cries of "ow!"

With surprising speed, he shambled to his feet and brushed himself off, looking closely for the origin of his pain. I could tell he was indeed hurt, but nothing a hug from a loving adult and a band aid wouldn't help. Hell, if I'd taken a similar tumble, I'd have scraped and chipped quite a lot just knowing my clumsy ways.

I too would want a hug.