Seven

“He doesn’t say much,” her father concluded.

“Maybe he’s just quiet,” her mother suggests.

“Kiddo, where did your new friend come from?  Where does he live?”

“Up the hill, Dad.”  She points to a roof top not too far away.  One row behind their new home and a few houses to the left.  The red brick and grey shingled roof just barely peaking above their pine tree line. 

“Bud, does someone know where you are?”

He shrugs.  His 5 year old brain intently playing with her little black lab leashed to the back porch.  She is exploding with excitement to have a friend her age to play with. 

“Ok.  Well…don’t leave the yard, Baby Girl.”

“Kay, Daddy.”

“Come on, we can see them from the back of the house anyway,” her mother nudges opening the back door. 

“Want to play on my new swing set?” she suggests to him.

“No.”

“Want to play hide-and-go-seek?” she tries again.

“No.”

“Kay.”  She looks at him confused but eagerly suggests several more options.  He doesn’t respond.  “Want to play with the puppy?” She says, dejected. 

“Yep!”  He grabs the mangled tennis ball from the dog’s feet and launches it into the air. 

They play for hours.  Long after the puppy retreats into the house content and exhausted.  Her parents call her into the house for the night and worry about her new 5-year-old friend making it back to his house in the dark.  “He’s fine,” they conclude. Her mother waits and watches for signs of movement from the back door.  His shadow scampers across the driveway and a motion light grants her mother a sigh of relief. 

A scene to be played out countless times.