Corey runs out to the driveway to play basketball. Sides of his safari hat flapping, scrawny seven-year-old legs like little goal posts lift him swiftly outside. His expression is concentrated and intent, with traces of the joy he’s anticipating playing about his features. He grabs the basketball and starts dribbling while I clean up in the kitchen.
Tap-tap — You can hear me, Mom. I’m okay.
Tap-tap — I’m serious about this practice, laying up my shot.
Tap-tap — I’m having so much fun.
Tap-tap — No strangers are coming to steal me away. I’m still here.
Tap-tap — Pure innocence in the summer sunshine.
Tap-tap — Nothing more pressing to do this whole afternoon but bounce my ball up and down.
Tap-tap — Just a regular boy at a perfectly normal house enjoying a typical summertime activity.
Every tap-tap tells me that he’s okay, he’s safe, and he is happy.
©2017 Diana Rhudick
