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“I just want him to be healthy and safe,” Maggie had said, covering her still-growing belly with her hands.

Maggie gave birth exactly nine months after conception and to no one’s surprise, had an extremely easy delivery. She required no medicine and pushed for what seemed to be mere minutes before Arthur made his grand arrival.

He gave one great cry once his airways were cleared but he then quieted and looked up at the nurses and doctors around him with wide and curious eyes. He was handed to his father, Bradley, who gently laid him against Maggie’s skin. “He’s beautiful,” the nurse commented, “and so quiet. You all are so blessed.” And blessed they were. Arthur continued to be better than they ever could have hoped for. His weight and length were exactly as the doctor had hoped and he was perfectly healthy. His hair, red just like his mothers, was soft as silk. He excelled at breast feeding and many of the hospital’s consultants and nurses looked at Maggie and Arthur as model examples of good nursing techniques.

“I can’t believe he’s your first child,” another mother in the nursery said. “You don’t look nervous or scared in the slightest. I’m still terrified I’ll break this little one and she’s my third.”

“He makes it easy,” Maggie said, kissing Arthur on the forehead. “I couldn’t ask for a better baby.”

The family left the hospital and began their new life at home together. Arthur continued to be what everyone around him considered a perfect child. Within weeks of being born, Arthur was sleeping through the night in his own crib. He would wake to nurse and fall right back asleep, much to his mother’s and father’s delight. When it came time for him to begin eating real food, Arthur did so with glee. He was particularly fond of peas but would happily gobble up any baby food presented to him.

“I don’t understand how you two got so lucky,” Bradley’s father commented during Arthur’s first Christmas dinner that year. “He’s such a good kid. Brad, you weren’t anything like that. You raised hell the second we turned our backs to you.”

“I don’t know how it happened. I guess he got it from Maggie, just like her hair.” The whole family, still gathered around the table, laughed.

“I don’t know about that,” Maggie said. “My mom used to say that I was quite the troublemaker myself. He’s still young, he has time to find his misbehaving side.”

“Better knock on wood,” Bradley’s mother laughed. “With all of the crazy situations that Brad got us into as a kid, you better hope that he doesn’t.”

“I’m fine with having a great kid, whether he behaves or not,” Bradley said, smiling at Arthur.

As Arthur grew older, changes took place within his family. After he turned five, his father got a job offer in a state across the country and his family relocated. Arthur began going to school and instantly enjoyed it. He was naturally intelligent and, as he advanced in grade levels, never struggled with the content presented in school. Teachers reported to his parents that he was often quiet in class but always performed perfectly on assignments. He found great joy in learning new things about math and science but he also loved to read. He took part in many activities and clubs, and, after some urging from his father, he joined a club soccer team. Unsurprisingly, Arthur was excellent on the field and quickly picked up on the new skills.

At home, Arthur was given chores to do around the house after his homework was completed, and he never had to be asked to do something more than once. 

“Thank you, honey,” his mom said one day after he returned from taking the trash out. “I appreciate you helping me around the house.”

“You’re welcome Mom. I’m glad I can help,” he said, washing his hands.

“You’ve always been so wonderful, Artie. It’s so great to have such a good child like you.”

“I’m glad,” he said. He sat back down at the kitchen table and opened the book he was currently reading. He remained there, engrossed in the story, until it was time for him to prepare for bed.

Two weeks before his 8th birthday, Arthur was mailed a gift certificate to a local toy store from his grandparents.

“What is it?” he asked, looking at the small card.

“It’s money,” his father said. “You can only spend it at the toy store, but it’s just as good as a fifty dollar bill. Keeping it safe is your responsibility, and when we go to the toy store, you may spend it however you’d like. Grannie and Pops wanted you to buy whatever toy you want, so they sent you that instead of sending a toy that they thought that you would like. I know it’s not as fun as opening a present, but now you get to choose what you want.”

Arthur was thrilled! Fifty whole dollars and it was all his to spend. He couldn’t wait to go to the toy store now. His parents were happy that their son was eager to learn about monetary responsibility. His mother promised to take him within the next week, and he now had time to think about what he would like to purchase.

Friday morning rolled around and Arthur excitedly got dressed for school.   “Can we go to the toy store tomorrow Mom, please?” he asked, taking his backpack off its hook near the front door.

“Oh, honey. We can’t go tomorrow, we have to go with Daddy to his work for a party. We can go next week, if nothing comes up.”

“But, last weekend you said we could go in a week. It’s been a week, right?”

“Arthur, I said we can go when we have time. Please don’t argue with me.”

Arthur quieted and soon the bus picked him up. He sat in the seat silently, upset that he wouldn’t be able to go to the toy store and spend his money. It was his money, he should be able to spend it however he’d like, whenever he’d like.

Suddenly, Arthur had an idea. He turned to his friend Phillip, who sat in the seat across the aisle from him. Phil was the opposite of Arthur. He had always struggled with his school work but he was always very outgoing and liked to joke and play with classmates. He was overweight and the long dark hair that grew from his head often looked greasy and tangled. Artie didn’t mind that he and Phil were different, he actually liked that Phil had bothered to become friends with him at all.

“Hey Phil, I have a question.”

“What’s up Artie?”

“Do you know where the toy store is?”

“Oh, it’s next door to the grocery store! Whenever my mom sends my dad to buy groceries, he drops me and my sister off at the toy store and lets us play with the toys instead of going with him.”

Arthur thought for a moment. He and his mom had walked to the grocery store plenty of times. She liked to go early in the day when they put out the new vegetables, so during the summer when the weather was nice, he would go with her before Kate, his babysitter, came over.

Arthur could walk there on his own, he knew the way. He only had to walk to where the school bus picked him up, cross two streets and then turn left when he saw the Dairy Queen. On days that got too hot too fast, Arthur and his mom would stop for ice cream before walking back home. Arthur’s favorite was the Dilly Bar, even though his mom sometimes had to finish it for him because he couldn’t eat it all by himself.

“Artie? You okay?”

Arthur hadn’t realized that the bus was stopped and Phil was now standing in the aisle, staring at him. They were already at school. Arthur must’ve been lost in his thoughts for longer than he imagined.

“Just fine, thank you,” he said, then stood and followed Phil up the aisle. “Sorry for making you wait on me,” he said politely to the bus driver.

“Anytime, Art. You have a nice weekend!”

His plan was all he could think about during school on Friday. When his babysitter picked him up afterwards in her little red hatchback, she had looked at him through the rear-view mirror for a moment.

“You alright Artie? You’ve been pretty quiet. Are you excited for your birthday coming up? Did you learn anything in science class today?”

“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell,” he said. “I learned that today.” He had turned and faced the window while Kate drove them back to his house. His parents returned home late that night, and Arthur had already gone to bed when they arrived. He woke up when his mother came in to kiss him goodnight but quickly fell back asleep after she had tucked him in.

***

The weekend proved to be uneventful. All Arthur could think about was going to the toy store on Monday morning. When the day finally came, he dressed for school as he normally would. He tucked his gift certificate into the front pocket of his jeans and grabbed his favorite baseball hat. He knew he wasn’t allowed to wear it in school.

“Arthur! Let’s go sweetie, I have a meeting I need to get to!” His mother yelled. When he walked into the kitchen, she was tossing her papers for work together in a hurry.

“I can walk to the bus stop by myself today, Mom, if you need to go.”

“Honey, are you sure? I can walk to the stop with you but I can’t wait for the bus with you like I normally do, I have to be on time to this meeting.”

“I’m sure I can do it. I’m almost 8 years old.”

“You’re growing up so quickly,” she said and kissed him on the forehead. “Be safe, Artie.”

Arthur sat down to eat the cereal that his mother had made for him. He couldn’t believe this was going to work. His father had left for work much earlier, so he was trusted by his mother to lock the door and make it to the bus stop safely. It wasn’t the first time he had made the walk down the neighborhood street by himself, and there were always other kids at the stop waiting to board the bus as well. He never felt unsafe or scared when he was walking by himself. It was exciting to him to be able to do something on his own.

Arthur finished his cereal and rinsed the bowl clean before setting it down in the sink. He pulled his baseball cap down tighter on his head and picked up his backpack from the floor. He left the house, checking to make sure that the door had locked behind him. There was a spare key hidden in a rock in the garden that he would use to open the front door again once he returned home from the toy store.

He walked down his street and waved to the other kids who were standing alone at the bus stop. The breeze that was blowing threatened to pull his baseball hat from his head, but he held tightly to it.