Surprises

Mason sat at the round, hand painted kitchen table that his mother had just bought at a garage sale the other day. It was pretty, he liked the little flowers painted all over the top. He remembered that his mother was excited about it only costing a few dollars, but most of what he had heard confused his young mind. What is so cool about it costing only a few dollars? And what is a garage sale anyway? Also, how do you buy a table at a place that is selling garages? How do you sell a garage? Could I sell my garage? How much could I get for it? $20? $50? If I could get $50 for the garage, I'd be rich! Mason decided that he would make sure to talk to his mother about this whole garage selling thing.

The garage was the least of his worries, though. The main worry, at this particular moment, was about his coloring. He was wondering what color he should use next. His gut was telling him that he should continue to use his favorite color, which was green. But his kindergarten teacher had mentioned to him that he uses almost no other colors. Mason, personally, felt like that was a compliment. He loved green. However, her tone had cast some doubt into his mind about whether or not it was really something to be proud of. What's Ms. Higgins favorite color? Now, he was wishing that he had asked.

Mason looked out of the big window in the cozy kitchen. The sun was shining brightly, not a cloud in sight. Mason thought about his mother, out there, tending to her garden. Most of what Mason's mother did just gave way to more and more questions in his head, but gardening made sense to him. To Mason, gardening was an acceptable way to play in the dirt. It was one of his favorite hobbies. Mason would ask his mother for her gardening gloves, along with her hand held shovel, and when she asked why, he always said "gardening, what else would I do with all that?" She would say ok, and go over to the little cubby where she kept all of her gardening things. Mason thought the cubby was located suspiciously higher than he thought it should be if he was going to be using these things, too. She would then take out what he asked for, and send him on his way. There was always some "be careful" lecture before she would hand him the shovel, but those were the only two words that ever caught his entire attention.

But after that, it was on. Mason began thinking about all of the ancient artifacts he had dug up, all the dinosaur bones he discovered, the mystic objects he had found that confounded him to this day. His mother would always come outside, just as he was finding something new to show her, and chuckle at the site of him. "Gardening, huh? One of these days, you're going to need to show me just how you garden because I don't think I'm doing it right," she would always say. As Mason thought about all of this, he decided that today he would show his mother just how to garden. He put down his green crayon, concluding that he liked the color green more than he cared if anybody else liked it, and headed to the back door.

Mason stepped out onto the small, grey patio, and pulled the door closed behind him. His mother was tending to her rose bushes. As Mason dawdled across the green lawn, his mother turned her head and caught his eye, a smile on both their faces in an instant.

"What's up, Mason?"

"I thought I'd teach you to garden today, Momma."

"There's not a single thing that I would enjoy more," she assured him. As she set down her trimmers, she checked her watch and knelt in front of him. "But the thing is, there's a surprise for you. It'll be here for you in ten minutes. But I need you to wait inside, son." Mason looked at her inquiringly. He didn't ask what it was, or why he had to wait inside, but he wanted to. And Momma knew that. "I'll make you a deal. If you go inside and wait 10 minutes, and nothing surprises you, come back out here, and I will most definitely let you teach me how to garden properly. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Mason answered, still with those questions swirling around those bright, always curious eyes.

"Alright, good. Just ten minutes, babe, ten minutes." She stood and took his little hand in her big hand, and walked him back to the door. "Make sure you stay right here, at the kitchen table," and with that she opened the door. Mason stepped in, as his mother gave his hair a gentle tussling, and closed the door behind him.

Mason had many things on his mind, now. He sat back down at the table, and looked at his crayons and his picture. First of all, this felt familiar. Mason was used to waiting at the table for surprises. The surprises always came, and they were always pretty awesome, but he always had to wait at the table for some time before he got them. It led him to question what waiting at the table had to do with his surprise. And how long is 10 minutes, anyway? Mason thought about the clock that hung above the back door. It had tiny musical notes on it. It also had little numbers. I know all of those numbers, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Momma told me all that. But Mason felt like there was definitely information missing, still. Like the table.

Mason picked up his green crayon, and continued coloring his picture. It was a nice picture. It was a playground with a slide, and monkey bars. There were birds in a tree to the right, kind of in the back ground. Mason colored everything green that he could possibly could. When Mason was done, he looked around. Everything was so quiet. Mason could hear the soft hum of the fridge and the clock ticking. He looked across the bar counter behind him, glancing his mother's phone, some silly little gnome things that his mother like to shake over food and called "Salt" and "Pepper," and some scattered papers. Mason glanced back at the clock. Had it been 10 minutes? I feel like it's been a hundred minutes. I bet the surprise is here. Mason slipped out of his chair, and headed to the back door.

Mason's mother heard the door open, and a soft, "Momma." She checked her watch. It had been exactly 21 minutes. She sighed to herself, disappointed, but glad that she was the only one feeling this way. She turned away from her rose bushes, as Mason was making his way towards her.

"Well, there you are. No surprise yet? Not a thing surprised you in there?" Mason shook his head. He stood in front of her, hands in his pockets.

"Momma, can I teach you how to garden like me, now?"

"Well, of course, you can. You know, I forgot that I had your surprise out here with me." Mason watched his mother walk over to a cubby she had put up on the fence herself to hold whatever stuff she put up there. She picked up a brown box that was sitting there inside it. She walked back over and held out in front of him. She could see that excited glint in his eyes, growing by the second. "You can't teach me how to garden like you do without your own stuff, can you?"

Mason's face immediately lit up, as he opened the box to find his very own set of green gardening gloves and his very own hand held shovel. The delight on Mason's face washed away every single bit of disappointment for his mother. This moment was always worth it.

"The first thing you have to do, Momma, is put on your gloves," Mason instructed. "Then, you pick up your shovel, and," he said with the goofiest grin Momma had ever seen, "and you just start digging!"

Mason's mother let out a full and loving laugh, and Mason watched her wipe tears from her eyes. I'm so funny I made her cry, I'm getting so good at jokes.

"Alright, Momma, it's time to go find some cool stuff. Are you ready?" Mason asked very seriously, one eyebrow up, a new, mischievous glint in those eyes.

"Man, I'm always ready, let's go," Momma replied. And with that, they went on a grand adventure, swinging across rivers, scaling mountains, sailing 'round the world, until they found the spot in which to dig up the treasure they were seeking. A dangerous adventure this had been, with monsters and pirates at every turn, but they made it and dug up their hard earned treasure.

When they felt thoroughly victorious in their endeavors, the two worn out adventurers headed towards the house, as the sun had just set.

"Momma, we deserve chicken nuggets after all that gardening," Mason mentioned, as he walked in the back door.

"That we do, indeed," Momma agreed. "You're going to need a shower, kiddo. Why don't you go pick out some pajamas while I get the nuggets in the oven?" Mason nodded, and wondered off toward his room. Momma sauntered around the kitchen, feeling light and positive, as she put together dinner.

Momma made sure to spend the rest of the night focused on Mason, which Mason thought was pretty cool. She laughed at all his jokes, told some of her own, cooked him chicken nuggets, and discussed at length with him the importance of the treasure that they had found today. As Momma tucked him into bed, all snuggly, she told him how much she loved him. Mason's eyes began to droop, and the kid was out like a light in just a moment. Mason's mother looked at her sleeping little boy, and wondered how she would ever be able to tell him about the real surprises, what he was really supposed to be waiting on. How was she supposed to tell Mason that all of these times she would tell him he was waiting on a surprise in the kitchen that he was actually waiting on a call from his father? It's why she always left the phone on the counter, hoping that one of these days the man would call when he said he would. She had taught Mason how to answer the phone for her, so that he could answer the phone himself, if he did call. She stood up and walked slowly from the room, longing for the day she could see the real surprise light up Mason's face the way the gloves and shovel had.