Trains, Buses, Trucks, all very exciting
when you’re a toddler and now a
Firetruck! Sirens! We have just pulled up at
my granddaughter’s pre-school
after waving to the 4:14 regional rail
express and now as the staff coax her out
the door here come Police Cars! An
Ambulance! But the Firetruck is leaving.
It’s not needed. The firemen are not waving
at us but we still wave with enthusiasm.
Pre-K heard some little pops, one-two-
three-four-E. says as I strap her
into the car seat. I’m firm. No. Sit down.
We’ll talk later. I am trying to hurry. Now
six cop cars and they are wrapping
yellow tape across the cross street. The kids
are watching. Twenty little yellow number
markers clustered on the street and side
walk. We make a little detour as
the curiosity seekers move in. Yes,
she can have a pink donut. No, Nana
doesn’t know what happened. Yes. We’ll go
by the station and watch more trains. Come
and go. (It’s the 236th murder in Philadelphia
this year, up 33%, we’ve passed murder-a-
day.) Tomorrow there’ll be another
in the block by John B. Kelly School, grades
K through 5.
