Age 6
Alfred stared through the window at this unfamiliar place. The houses all looked huge in comparison to the small apartment he had known before. Each house had a green lawn, with it's own little charms in the yard. Alfred bounced in his seat. His legs ached from being in the same position for three hours, and his eyes were beginning to droop from being awakened so early, but nonetheless, he looked out with wonder at the new neighborhood. Finally, the truck slowed and turned into the driveway of a brown, modest house, not uncommon from the rest.
The moment the ignition was turned off, Alfred jumped out of his seat and climbed out of the moving van and onto the lush, green lawn beside it. He rolled around, laughing. "Mommy! Look," he shouted, seeing his mother open her door, "it's like we have a little park at our house!"
Alfred's mother picked him up and laughed with him. "Yeah, it is a little bit like that, huh?"
"Yeah," he echoed. "It is a little bit like that."
Alfred's mother set him back down. It was mind blowing to him that he lived in a place big enough to have a yard now. A thought occurred to him. Certainly if the yard was this big, the house must be huge! He ran up to his father, who was unlocking the door. He stared up at him.
"Hey, little man," his father said, tousling the boy's golden blond hair. "You ready to take the first step into the new house?"
Alfred beamed. "Yes! Yes, yes yes!"
"Alrighty…"
His father slowly opened the door. Alfred gasped. He took a step inside. Around him was a huge living room, with large windows and a lush carpet. To his left was the kitchen, much bigger than it had been in the old apartment. He took a few more steps inside, and saw the hallway to his right. There were three doors. Alfred walked up to the first one and poked his head inside. It was a room, with walls a sky blue color and a window that looked upon the front yard. Alfred turned back around to see his dad standing behind him.
"Daddy," Alfred said quietly as he looked back out at the living room, "I don't get it. Where's all the stuff?"
"What stuff?"
"The couch and the table and the TV and stuff."
His father laughed. "It's in the moving van, silly. We still need to bring it in."
Alfred was still puzzled. Why would the stuff be in the moving van?
"Look," his dad said, leading him back outside, "Why don't you wait out here on the lawn until me and Mommy bring all the furniture inside. That way you won't get in the way."
Alfred nodded and sat down on the grass, not knowing what to do. He did a few somersaults. He attempted to climb the tree (but in vain). He dug up some dirt and found a roly-poly. Alfred groaned and flopped onto his back. The novelty of the yard had already worn off, and he still didn't know what to do. He sat back up and started pulling grass out of the ground.
"Psst," he heard above him.
He looked up. It was his mother. "Look over there."
Alfred followed her pointing finger across the street. He scrunched his eyebrows, trying to find what she was showing him. Then he saw him.
Sitting quietly on the porch of the house opposite theirs was a young boy, reading a book. His eyes shifted above the rim for just a moment, but the boy instantly buried his face back into the book when he realised that Alfred and his mother were looking at him.
"If you're bored, why don't you go talk to that boy over there? He's been watching you for a while now," his mother whispered, and winked at him.
Alfred got up and brushed the grass off his pants. Tentatively, he crossed the street and made his way up to the other boy, who was still nose deep in his book.
Up close, he could see that the boy had sandy blond hair, and a few freckles dotted his hands and forehead. The cover of the book showed a girl surrounded by books of different colors.
"May-tid-la," Alfred sounded out to the best of his ability.
The boy shifted and slowly looked up from his book. His eyebrows were surprisingly big, and his eyes were a light green.
"It's Ma-til-da," he corrected.
"Oh," Alfred said.
There was a small moment of silence, before Alfred spoke again.
"So what's your name?"
The boy put his book down. "Arthur," he replied.
"Cool. My name's Alfred. How old are you?"
"Eight."
"Wow, I'm six. You're really old."
"Not really."
"Yeah-huh. You're pretty much a big kid."
"I guess so."
"How come you were looking at me?"
Arthur's cheeks flushed red and he looked at the ground. "I wasn't."
"Then how come my mom said so?"
"I don't know."
Alfred put his hands in his pockets. "Okay," he said. "So why are you reading a book?"
Arthur shrugged. "I just like reading."
"Oh, that's weird. Reading is really hard."
"Not for me."
There was yet another moment of silence. Alfred looked back to his house while Arthur became very interested in the bush beside him. Then he spoke up.
"I already read this book a lot of times, so do you want to watch the movie with me?"
Alfred looked back at the boy. His expression was flat, but his eyes were bright and yearning. He grinned.
"Yeah, that sounds good!"
