Click

Click.

It wasn’t a loud noise, just enough to get my attention, but not enough to stop work. We were in the process of building a home and had decided to do some sweat equity. I was the electrical contractor.

It was early on a Sunday morning; our new neighborhood was more silent than usual. I had brought Nicholas with me to allow my wife some well-deserved rest. I didn’t mind. True, he was a handful but he was also charming. I cherished our time together. Despite the challenges and his never-ending motion, we had connected. We were buddies. I never left home without wishing a part of me could stay with him.

Click.

There it was again. Not enough to halt wiring the circuit breakers in the main breaker box, but enough to get my mind thinking what could be making that sound?

Click, click.

Where could it be coming from?

Click, click, click; in quick succession.

Slowly the marbles in my mind began to tumble. Where is Nicholas? I listened. I couldn’t hear him.

Click.

I couldn’t identify the sound or its source.

Click, click, click, click; so fast that the sound was now closer to a buzz.

I listened again for Nicholas, not a peep. Past experience told me that if you can’t hear him, trouble was at hand. I called his name.

Buzz.

No answer.

Buzz, buzz.

I stepped out onto the driveway to try and locate the sound.

Buzzzzzz.

It was coming from the front yard.

Buzzzzzzzzzzz.

I quickened my step as I approached the front yard. I cleared the corner of the house just as the buzzing sound started again. This time it didn’t stop.

Amazingly, I found my 1974 Dodge Dart rolling backwards down our yet-to-be-landscaped sloped front yard. Both the passenger and driver side doors were wide open. There was Nicholas, hanging onto the steering wheel, jumping up and down; shouting with glee.

At first the car seemed to be pointed towards my across-the-street neighbors’ well-trimmed rose garden, which was viewed from a large plate glass window positioned directly behind it. I have never run faster. Fortunately, the car turned causing it to make a large U path crossing the road, narrowly missing the rose garden, and then crossing back again allowing me to catch the car on the passenger side. I hopped inside, slid across the bench seat, and hit the brake with my left foot. The engine wasn’t running so it took everything I had to muster the strength to press the brake to bring the car to a halt.

I sat, too exhausted to move, my body pulsating as my heart raced. Nicholas danced with joy.

“Again, again”, he cried.

I had just aged ten years and he wanted more. I reflected and dropped my head as the irony struck me.

I finally stopped shaking enough to get out of the car and inspect the new surroundings. The back bumper was less than six inches away from my next-door neighbors’ garage door.

“Wow, that was close”, I mused.