Bobby's Day Out

“Daddy look! the sleeping man… his ears are out now!” little Bobby pointed to the maroon-coloured new leaves that had barely made their appearance from the skeletal bush of Crepe-Myrtle. Chris moved closer and smiled. “Yup, we will see the pink flowers blooming soon enough,” he said trying to match the excitement of his 6-year-old son.

It was a bright Sunday morning and both of them were in their house garden. After the bitter winter cold, late March had brought in perfect mornings though the nights were still chilly. Sarah had gone to Delhi for the weekend to attend her cousin’s wedding.

Though Chris and Bobby missed Sarah, they enjoyed their father-son alone time. It was just that they could do a few things without feeling guilty, like lounging around in pajamas and playing video games or having noodles and ice-cream for breakfast. The things Chris was finicky about were few, like gardening and sports. The pandemic had put a stop on active sports so the garden was his refuge. Though the gardener did the daily maintenance, Chris loved digging up the soil and sprucing up the shrubs. Spending an hour or two in the garden on Sunday mornings was a weekly ritual not to be missed. Bobby liked it too.

The lawn was a plateau of brown mixed green. The flower beds that bordered it were a riot of colours. Bumblebees and honey bees were already up and about their business. Bobby studied each bloom with the intent curiosity of a child. He tilted his head to catch the shine on the petals of velvety flax flower, jumped up to touch the topmost flower of a hollyhock bush, plucked calendula and tasted it before spitting it out, shook the pollen out of asters and lied down on the lawn to get a closer look at the half-open ice-flowers. A ladybird on a blade of the grass caught his attention. It was moving up slowly as if he were not there. When Bobby touched it, it took a short flight. It was then he had spotted the sleeping man waking up.

Chris, who was working with a weeder patted his son’s head and announced dramatically, “Time to pick vegetables for our Sunday Special! What does your Majesty fancy?”

Bobby laughed loudly before assuming a regal demeanour. Then he clasped his hands behind his back and started walking the length of the vegetable patch with a slow purposeful stride.

He pointed his forefinger solemnly towards the parrot-green leaves of carrots and purple-veined beets. Then he waved at the ridge gourds and spinach leaves. He gave a look of displeasure towards broccoli and radish. Chris chuckled. The next moment Bobby was a child again.

Bobby knelt near the carrot and beet patch and observed closely as his father loosened the soil around each one of the tubers and rotated and twisted them by holding the leaves and lifted them wholly. Bobby let out “Hooray!” and said, “my turn, now”. He squatted to get the balance, caught hold of wispy hairs of carrot, rotated and pulled one out. “Thwack!” he landed on his bottom with half a carrot clasped in his hands and his arms up in the air. “Oh daddy!” he cried out with disappointment mixed with shame. Chris comforted him saying “It’s okay, you left some for the squirrels”. Bobby was happy with his haul of spinach leaves though, he followed his father’s tip of “pinch and snip”. Chris picked a handful of herbs and they were done.

“Nice work, now let’s get cleaned up buddy,” Chris said as they placed the vegetables on the kitchen counter. “Okay daddy, let’s have lemonade first, I’m very tired”. Chris wiped the beads of sweat that had formed on his brows and grinned. “Yeah, we are tired indeed,” he said as he poured two glasses of lemonade.

After both of them had taken their baths and played the first level of the game of Super Mario, Chris entered the kitchen. He was a banker. He enjoyed his work though his workplace had become a bit hazardous of late and he took care to keep himself safe. He enjoyed watching sports and an occasional series on T.V but kept himself away from social media on weekends. Weekends were his alone time. Of course, he indulged Sarah and Bobby, but they too knew when to leave him alone. With Bobby continuing to jump on mushrooms and crawl through the tunnels with Mario, Chris’s alone time was now.

He wore the apron that was hanging from a hook on the door. He placed the vegetables, one kind at a time under the tap water and rinsed them thoroughly. He watched the remains of the soil that had once nurtured the tubers flow down the drain. He brushed every crevice to ensure the vegetables were clean and patted them down with a kitchen towel. He gently scraped the carrots that were tender enough to be eaten raw and the beets that bled purple juice. Then he chopped, diced, cubed and minced expertly. An hour passed by in meditative silence as he lighted the stove, sauteed, strained, ground and seasoned the produce that was picked up in the morning. He ended it with a deep inhalation as the aroma started filling the kitchen and spilling to the other parts of the home and exhalation as he removed his apron.

Bobby, partly drawn to the kitchen by the aroma and partly because he had grown hungry, observed his father in the last few minutes of this trance.

“And the lunch is served!” boomed Chris theatrically once he had set the table.

Chris said grace and Bobby dug into delicious spinach with cottage cheese with Naan bread and relished them. The salad was not his favourite but Dad always made it special by adding some chicken and a secret sauce. The lunch ended with a warm brownie with ice cream on the side and Bobby was in food heaven. Mom cooked decent meals but Dad’s were always special!

Bobby said, “Daddy, when are we going to have a day out?”

Chris felt a heaviness on his chest as he answered,

“Sometime soon”. “But we can always have an outing in the garden! maybe later in the evening? A tea party? Let’s have your friends Nitin & Lalit from the opposite block over. What say?”

“Okay” Bobby nodded his head in passive agreement.

It had been a while… a whole year since Sarah and Chris had taken Bobby out.

“Okay bud, Dad’s going to take a nap now. Why don’t you too lie down for a while?” Bobby was not too keen on afternoon naps so he fiddled around with his toy cars, rearranged the tracks, then got a little bored of playing alone and snuggled into Chris’s arms.

Bright sunshine bounced off the walls of the big building. Bobby walked on the pathway with his parents on either side. It was a reluctant walk at first, a jog next and then a dash to meet his friends waiting in the corridor. The bright red lips of Ms. Ritika spread in joy revealing her white teeth at his arrival. There was a roar of laughter and noise in the play area where Bobby and his friends twisted their bodies in the jungle gym, swirled in the merry go round and dodged a ball under the watchful eyes of the sports teacher. Then the bell rang and suddenly there was darkness everywhere with an eerie silence.

Bobby woke up screaming “Ma…”. Chris, who was checking the pantry for the tea party came running and hugged Bobby.

Bobby had attended school for a year before the lockdown. He stayed home like the rest of his friends the previous year. This year too didn’t look too promising.

“Bobby, come let’s get ready for the tea party. Your friends will be here anytime now!” Chris coaxed his frozen son. Bobby rubbed his eyes and climbed out of the bed slowly. He dragged his feet to the bathroom and freshened up. After sipping a mugful of hot chocolate, he grabbed his croquet set and ran to the lawn.

 Chris had already set the scoring posts on the lawn. Bobby checked each one of them closely much to his father’s amusement. Soon, Nitin and Lalit arrived. Chris played the role of the game conductor for a while. Then he left the task to Nitin’s father who was a good friend and had dropped in. He felt the heaviness on his heart lift when he heard the hoots of laughter streaming from the lawn through the kitchen windows. After some time, he came out with a tray laden with cookies, samosas, cakes and pasta and laid them out on the patio table. He saw that the boys were lying down on the grass and looking up. The evening Sun reflected on their sweaty skin. The brown blades of grass had made patterns on their clothes. They were trying to aim at the returning flock of birds by rounding their fingers into binoculars. Though Chris hated breaking into the moment, he had to feed them and get them home before the evening chill crept back onto the grass.

“Guys, who all are up for some hot samosas and pasta? Come on, get washed up quickly and come get them” he announced.

The three little heads bobbed up, the bodies hurtled themselves towards the patio as the limbs attached to them sped and the faces had wide grins plastered on them.