Since our row homes are so close together, if anyone is out on their stoop doing anything remotely interesting, everyone from at least 10 houses has a good view of what's going on. The day we brought home our cats (including the kitten, Tibu, short for Tiburón) six or seven children swarmed our section of sidewalk, wanting to know if it was a cat or dog, what its name was, if they could hold it. These questions answered, they proceeded to regale us with stories of their own pets. We heard about Smoke, Varell's cat who used to have a playmate but they "set her free" because they couldn't keep both of them and his dad wanted a male cat. (understandable, from a population perspective). Mr. James' household on the corner has a cat too; she likes to play but she's getting older, just like our cat Sadie. Mr. James, as Chris describes him, is the "patriarch" of the block. He's married to Miss T, and they have many, many children, some of whom have their own children and live across the street. Robert and Tiara live two row homes down, and don't have any pets, but their grandma has a cat.
Robert and Tiara are also the kids we know best. We met Robert because Jo-Ann (Chris' mom) was reading on the stoop while we unpacked and Robert came by to hang out with her. Later, after she left, he came by and knocked on the door. When I answered it, he said, "Can yo' mom come out?" He wasn't deterred by my response that she didn't live with us and had gone to her house, but simply changed the question to, "Can you come out?" "Come out" invariably means, "come out and play with me," so that even if I am "out" doing yardwork or sitting on the stoop reading, it's appropriate for him to ask me, "Can you come out?"
Whenever I go out to start up the grill, I'm bound to be met by some voice calling out, "Hey Miss Katie! You grillin'?" It doesn't seem to matter that it's obvious that that's exactly what I'm doing; it's more of a conversation-starter than anything else. One day I was making barbecued chicken, and one of Mr. James' granddaughters, Taleea, who lives across the street, was egged on until she called out, to the older kids' delight, "Can I have some chicken?" When I asked her and her aunts whether they had eaten and what they ate, they informed me that they had just eaten, and it was chicken.
While animals and grills may be good conversation starters, nothing beats Joe Blow. CJ and his mom just moved in with his grandparents next door. He's 7, but has the build of a swimmer, with strangely broad shoulders and a narrow waist. CJ was immediately popular due to his possession of a "court:" a flat, cement patio surrounded by fencing, which had previously been empty and forlorn but is now home to two turtles, toy cars, a 6' basketball hoop and various balls. CJ has any kind of ball you might be looking for--only problem is, they were all flat. His soccer ball was so flat, he wore it as a helmet. Once he realized I had a pump, we were quick friends. After I pumped up his basketball and soccer balls, he mentioned he also had a football that might need pumping up. I recommended he come by later and assured him I would pump it up.
Today, as I was sitting down to lunch, I heard a knock on the door. Was it Robert, who comes by several times a day and once tried to crawl through the mail slot? No, this head was higher up when I looked out the window. I opened the door to find CJ, standing there with his football in his hands. "Can you pump my football?" he asked. It's not important to say hi, how are you I guess until the age of at least 11. "I'll go get the pump and meet you outside," I assured him. Joe Blow in hand, I sat down on the stoop and pumped his football while asking him a few questions about how his morning was going. CJ was noncommittal. Something else was bothering him. As I handed his football back to him, he said, "My bike tires are pretty flat too; my mom said I should bring it over, but I can't get it up from the basement."
Maybe tomorrow I'll pump his bike tires. For now, Joe Blow is stationed next to the front door, just in case.
