shoe

One possible source of a solo shoe: little boys on a Saturday morning treasure hunt.

Two of the three rounded the corner on bikes, the third cut the corner on foot, running across the lawn. As I ran along the curb, I heard him say, "Help me." It wasn't an urgent cry, just, "Help me." Repeated. One of his friends, the spokesman said, "Someone needs to help him."

I was in an unfamiliar town, a stranger, and these were little boys - the bikers were probably six years old, and the one on foot was about four. Would I be "stranger danger"? I stopped anyway.

"Can I help?" I asked.

The spokesman looked up at me and said, "Do you know how to tie shoes?" Dead serious.

"Yes! I can even tie double knots," I replied.

"Well, he needs help."

Sure enough, when I took a good look - there was a shoe on the grass behind the littlest boy. In the haste of the chase, he ran right out of his shoe.

He jammed his shoe back on and I undid the tangled lace, then re-tied it - with my habitual double knot. I always tied my brother's shoes with a double knot. I always tie my running shoes with a double knot. Because who wants to stop in the middle of a race to tie a shoe?

With excitement, he showed me the slugs that he had collected, held in a small Frisbee. His buddy exclaimed over the roly poly bugs they had found, too. He had a jar of sticks and twigs and roly poly bugs. "There's so much stuff to get!" he exclaimed.

The pack of little boys raced ahead and I resumed my run. As I crossed the street, I glanced over just in time to see the one I'd helped look back at me with a smile and say, "Thank you!"

Did his mom wonder about the double knot?