The Kid Might Be Happy

The kid might be happy, I don't know. He doesn't look happy to me.

I pass a kid on the way to and from The Asylum. Don't see him every day, but I see him a lot. Maybe I'll see less of him now that the pained drudgery of school has begun.

He looks to be 10 or 12 years old. Something like that. I see him riding his bike around his driveway wearing a Tom Brady jersey.

He just rides the bike around the driveway in circles.

It's actually more than a driveway, it is a paved rectangular area between the house and the driveway.

Big for walking around, small for a bike.

It sits right on the edge of a busy road, so I'm thinking maybe he is not allowed out on the road.

So he rides in circles.

Maybe he loves the bike and has to be on it. Maybe that makes him happy. Maybe he rides the bike wistfully wishing for the freedom it offers, which is being denied him. Maybe he rides the bike when he is waiting for supper to be ready, or just after breakfast.

I see him in the morning. I see him at night.

I don't want to believe he spends hours doing this. I want to believe I catch him in the middle of a brief moment.

The jersey is always the first thing to catch my eye from a distance. He wears the home jersey.

It's only a snapshot. Could be interpreted a thousand different ways. I will never know the truth.

He could be happy.

But it paints a lonely picture in my mind. Then again mm mind is a lonely place to be.