Just then I heard a child singing a children’s song, “Jesus Loves Me”, I think it was. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw a young boy, probably around five or six years old, walking out of the woods, pulling a red wagon with a toaster sitting in it. The boy had stringy blonde hair and his face was red from the sun.
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” Well, Johnny, what are you up to?” the man on the tractor asked. “I’m here to fix the white box,” the boy replied. At that, I decided to speak up. “But all you have is a wagon and a toaster!” I exclaimed. “I don’t plan to use these,” he said. “I only need my hands,” he said, holding them up as if we didn’t know what hands were. I decided to play along. “What are you going to do?” I asked. “Give it a hug,” he said, with a toothy grin.
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“That sounds good,” I said. “Just be careful.” The little boy wrinkled his brow at my apparently ridiculous show of caution and hurried over to the “white box” and stood at the corner to my right. He then leaned in and put his arms up against the walls of the cube. He rested his red cheek on the wall and the wall rippled slightly from his cheek towards the center of the front facing us. This seemed to please the little boy, because he leaned back to watch it with a big smile, then returned to “hugging” the box.
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Stumbling along the sidewalk 