“Frankie, your shoe’s untied,” Ms. Webster informs in her sugar sweet voice.
Frank looks down at his shoes, and then up at his teacher fearfully. He answers in his high voice, “But… I- I don’t know h-how to tie it!” Frank is still learning how to speak, and this results in him stuttering quite a bit.
“Hmm, well don’t you go ask Gerard over there? He’s Mikey’s brother,” she suggests.
Frank looks over at the second grader, and quakes in his boots. He’s at least two heads taller than Frank, and has spooky black hair that reminds Frank of black Halloween cats. He looks huge compared to Frank, and Frank can’t even fathom the thought of speaking to him. Frank likes Mikey, and he can’t imagine that such a nice kid would have such a scary older sibling. Still, he heads over, his fingers trembling with anxiety and fear.
He taps on Gerard’s shoulder tentatively with a small, pudgy hand.
Gerard turns around, and asks, “What is it?”
Gerard has about three teeth missing, one in the front top row, one off to the side, and one in the bottom row. This makes him look somewhat like a skeleton or a witch, and this just scares Frank even more.
“M-m-my shoe’s untied a-and Ms. W-Webster said t-to ask y-you,” Frank stutters.
Gerard looks at Frank, and eyes his untied shoes, the lace that was once white now black and torn from being dragged around behind him. Gerard drops to his knees, crouching to tie Frank’s shoe. He pulls the strings really tight, and Frank cries out,
“Ouch! Too tight, too tight!”
Gerard loosens his grip, and Frank breathes with relief. Gerard ties it really fast, too fast for Frank to see what he had done.
“There,” Gerard breathes. He gets up to leave, but Frank makes him stop when he asks,
“G-G-Gawawd?”
“It’s Gerard,” Gerard sighs.
“Gawawd,” Frank repeats. Gerard realizes that this kid must not be able to pronounce all of his letters correctly yet.
“Yes?” Gerard questions.
Frank falls back onto his bottom, holding his foot out in front of him. He scrambles his tiny hands across the neat bow, undoing Gerard’s work. “C- Can you sh-show me h-how to d-d-do it?”
Gerard nods, and smiles at the youngster. He jogs up, sitting on the ground crisscross applesauce. Frank places his foot onto Gerard’s lap, his muddy red Converse staining Gerard’s dungarees. Gerard doesn’t mind; he simply grabs each lace and starts his instruction.
“Cross them like this, like an X,” Gerard explains. “Then you have to pull one under. Pull them sort of tight, and then make two loops.” Gerard sticks his tongue out in concentration as he does so. “Then you wrap one of the loops around the other, and pull it under the circle it makes. Then you pull again, and it’s done.”
“T-that’s n-not how M-Ms. Webster does it,” Frank worries.
Gerard removes Frank’s shoe, picking at the dried dirt it left on his denim. “Well, it’s how I do it.”
Frank stands, and hugs Gerard, giving him a squeeze. Gerard blushes, prying the smaller boy off of him. Frank merely grins, unphased as he bears what little teeth he has himself. He giggles before prancing off, calling,
“Bye Gawawd!”

Notes

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