Is Too Is Not

11 Is Too Is Not Second edit 2/29 11:50 AM

Russell sat on his bike, fascinated by my camera. He kept staring at it. He may have seen cameras before, but not one like this. Not a magic camera. Where in the world did I come up with that silliness? He didn't understand my attempt at describing how a single lens reflex camera works, and rather that delving into that, it was just easier to say it was magic.

“When will you get your pictures developed?” asked Russell.

Uh oh. Do I lie? Do I show him?

“Russell, come over here.”

Russell scootched his bike next to me. I turned my camera so he could see the screen on the back. I pressed the preview button, and the pictures I took came up one at a time as I pressed the button. Russ's jaw dropped.

“What is that?” he asked.

“Those are the photos I took,” I answered. “I'll, um... develop them when I get home.” I didn't want to get into computers and such right now.

“Whoa! That's neat!”

I just smiled. If Russell only knew what modern technology held in store for him. Ha.

More kids arrived. Some alone, some in twos and threes, all riding bicycles.

“Mr. Gibson has a magic camera!” exclaimed Russ.

“He does not,” said Mary Bombard. “There ain't no such thing as a magic camera.”

“Is too!” said Russ.

“Is not!” said Mary.

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

Well, this went on for a bit. But I had forgotten the basic rule of children's debate. Whomever stops first loses.

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Whoa! That's enough,” I said. “My ears are getting tired.”

They both looked at me, but then Russell said, “Is too! Show her Mr. Gibson!”

“Yeah! Take my picture with your magic camera, Mr. Gibson,” challenged Mary with a sarcastic tone.

I sighed. What have I gotten myself into? Why didn't I just explain to Russ in more detail how an SLR works? Or just have told a white lie and said I'd develop them later? Sometimes I could kick myself.

“OK. Tell you what,” I said. “How about if I take a photo of all of you. Bunch up close together on your bikes.”

With some minor bicycle collisions, they finally managed to get fairly close. I had to step back a bit towards Ferg's house.

“OK, smile!” I said. They all started grinning. Sheesh. I pressed the shutter a couple of times, zooming a little as I did so.

“There. You can stop grinning now,” I said.

“So what's so magic?” said Mary. “I didn't see any magic.”

“You wait!” said Russell emphatically. “Show her Mr. Gibson!”

“OK. You kids get off your bicycles and gather around,” I said. No point in getting bumped all over by kids on bicycles. Kick stands went down and kids jumped off. They all gathered around me.

“Look closely,” I said as I turned the camera around and clicked the preview button. A picture popped up of the kids on their bikes. At first they said nothing. They just stared at it.

“I know what that is!” said Mary. “It's not magic! He's got a little television in there.”

“Does not!” said Russ. “Then why is it in color? Huh?”

Mary got quiet. Her eyes narrowed. She looked at the preview again. I pressed the button and the picture scrolled to the next one. Mary was quiet. Then the kids all started talking among themselves.

“Look, kids...” I said, “maybe it's better if you don't tell anyone about this. OK?”

“Why?” asked Mary's little sister Annie.

“Well, it's just better,” I said. “A lot of parents don't believe in magic. At all. They might not let you play outside anymore,” I fibbed. Heads nodded up and down.

“Promise?” I asked. More head nodding. “Cross your heart and hope to die?” I added.

“Lick the devil in the eye!” said Russ. Good. That should settle it. Kids started crossing themselves.

“Where's the pictures?” asked Mary.

“He's gonna do it later!” said Russ quite loudly.

“Is not!”

“Is too!

Here we go again. I decided to take a walk around the development. With my camera and bag around my neck, cane in hand, I started shuffling off down Lea Avenue. The kids didn't even notice I left. The sounds of did not did too faded off.

I passed house after house. I knew the names of everyone who lived there back so long ago. Yaeger's house was still vacant. I wonder why? Seems strange. I got to 23 Lea Avenue. My parents house. My house. I stopped and gazed at it. How peaceful it seems. The second nicest lawn in Swayze Acres. Mr. Van, across the street, had the nicest lawn. He put lots of fertilizer on it. My mom just burned ours. Every spring she would set the lawn on fire, and just like after the grass fires you see once in awhile, it came back greener than ever. I wonder why no one called the fire department on her? Maybe folks just kept to themselves more then.

As I stood there, the side door opened and a little boy bolted out. Little me. He jumped on his bicycle and went pedaling past as fast as he could.

“Hi mister!” he yelled as he flew by. I watched as he joined the group of kids down the street. It's like a damn gang down there. It's a wonder they didn't get into more trouble than they did.

Darn kids.