2000-06-01 | 2000-06-01

today i got home from work at about the twilight time of 8 p.m. and parked in my designated square of pavement in the driveway of my six-unit apartment building. the public sidewalk splits the driveway like a belt across a fat belly. my car on one side, the building on the other.

coming down that concrete waistline were two little long-haired girls in purple and red and stripes and shorts and sneakers, spinning and sparkling and clutching bright bouquets of plucked petals--probably purloined from yards they had passed on their journey. i opened my trunk to get out my carry-stuff-to-work bag and as i slammed the hood closed, i heard one of the little girls say, "two nice ladies!"

i looked up and saw my neighbor kim walking to her car. kim looked at the girls, then at me, smiled and looked back to the girls. "two nice ladies?" kim repeated, checking to see if we were the ladies in question. suddenly feeling sure we were, she offered, "yes!" and hopped in her toyota.

i started to walk alongside my car toward the girls. they stopped in front of me and tilted their heads up.

"you look beautiful!" squealed one of them. i was in shock. tired from work and shopping. wearing nothing special. what? beautiful? i was immediately revitalized.

"really?" i asked, wanting to make sure i didn't mishear something. the little girl bobbed her head with assurity.

"well, you two are beautiful, too," i said.

"we're sisters," the girl said, as if to offer an explanation of their pulchritude. "i'm five and she's six," she added, then pointed down the sidewalk to an oncoming lad. "he's our brother."

as the boy wandered into earshot he said, "you look blahrekd." ("blahrekd" being an unidentified word i couldn't make out.)

"what?" i asked, expecting a bratty twist on his sister's earlier pronouncement.

"nothing," he grinned. yep, a young boy fully capable of a bratty twist.

i noticed that the dark-haired sister who bobbed quietly next to her outspoken, lighter-locked sibling had a round bandage smothering her right eye. i felt a little tug of pity which grew even stronger when she stepped up to me and handed me a bloom from her sweaty clutch of flowers. i noticed a shadowed, twisted scar that jutted into the innocent flesh of her neck. like a bullet scar. or how i would picture a bullet scar to look. i imagined her being the victim of a drive-by shooting. something violent and wrong. something a sweet, miniature person like herself should have never had to encounter.

"this is for you," she said in a thready little voice that had to squeeze its way out of her damaged throat.

"really?" i asked again. she smiled and nodded yes. "thank you very much!" i said, meaning it very much.

the girls grinned and giggled and charged off, their sly-faced brother behind them. toddling up behind, a portly grandma walking a floppy white pup. the grandma shook her head and clucked as she passed me, murmuring something about what a handful those kids were.

as they disappeared out of sight behind the encroaching shrubbery, i walked up my steps, pinching my magenta-veined gift between my fingers. i had quite a handful, too.

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