“It’s not as simple as you think, Swee Hua,” Father said, and roughly pulled the chain to restart the lawn mower.

口Mouth

IN THE SUMMER, the doors to our houses opened to the feasts of childhood summer delights: laughing, swinging, running, and cycling.

After Hilary moved in, I started to spend a lot of time in the front yard. I helped Mother weed her garden, careful not to pull the long pointy iris petals or the poppy leaves, both of which were no longer blooming. The poppy leaves were tricky because they looked like prickly thistle. Sometimes they looked like dandelion leaves, and Mother told me to pull them out. I worked alongside Mother until Bea called me out to the street to ride my bicycle. To keep our play out front, I crafted games on the street with chalk and enticed my sister to join me. We did some hopscotch, played some games with our skipping ropes, and then drew a maze. When Bea grew bored, she retreated to the backyard, but I didn’t follow.

It was on one of these days, when Mother was inside preparing dinner, and Bea had gone to the backyard to play on the swing, that Hilary finally emerged from her house. I watched as the garage door rose noisily and she walked out with a toy that looked like a replica of Saturn made out of plastic. The planet was pink, and the plastic ring around it was black. She placed the toy on the driveway, stepped on its ring, and started bouncing. I had never seen a toy like that before.

Hilary saw me watching her from my bicycle. The wind was picking up and the orange, triangle-shaped flag at the rear of my bike was flapping noisily. It was like we were peering from two turrets in different castles on two separate mountains divided by a wide and deep valley.

Finally, she crossed the street with the toy in her hand and said, “Wanna try?”

I nodded and set my bicycle down on the sidewalk. Hilary placed the toy on the ground, but I didn’t know what to do. She said, “Put one foot on one side, and then when you put the other foot on the other side, start jumping.” It took a few tries, but I eventually started hopping around the sidewalk and laughing.

I paused to catch my breath. “What is this?” I asked.

“It’s called a pogo ball.” Hilary crouched down and started fingering the colourful beads on my bicycle spokes. “What are these?” she asked.

“Just for decoration. And they make a cool sound. My mom thought they would make my bike look nicer.”

“I love these. I’ve never seen them before,” Hilary said.

“Do you want some? My mom bought so many.”

“Really? I’d love some. I’ll go get my bike.” As Hilary ran back across the street, I ran into the house to grab a package of beads. We sat on the sidewalk clipping them onto her spokes.