“Rickety”
By: Dustin J. Pari
06.25.2016
It was the last day of school for Beans, my daughter, on Tuesday the
21st of June 2016. I wanted to do something special for her, as she
was just finishing up the 3rd grade. Time seems to be going quicker
these days, quicker for me than I would like it to be; the non-stop hustle and
bustle of it all. Each day seemingly filled more and more with the plastic
nonsense of this world rather than the things of substance; soulful, loftier
things. I can clearly recall the day of her birth 9 years ago when the doctor
handed her over to the nurse to be cleaned and little Beans grabbed me by my
pinky finger; nothing has ever been the same since.
So in order to make the most of the opportunity in front of
me, I hurried home from work and made it there in time to pick my little girl up and whisk
her off to the movies despite the traffic that attempted to thwart our
path. We went to see Alice Through The Looking Glass, the
follow up to Alice In Wonderland. The theater was empty when we went in and so
we were able to take our usual seats in the middle of the top row. With a large tub of buttered popcorn between
us, and a swirled slushy in our hands, we embarked on a fantastic journey of
whimsy along with Dorothy, Hatter, and their friends. My daughter has a slight cat obsession, so
Cheshire is her clear favorite. The
movie was quite enjoyable and I was thankful for our time together. Interesting
thought in retrospect as so much of the movie was about time itself.
As I try to do quite often, I make efforts to add to our
experiences with a little next level idea. This time I had purchased some Alice characters for one of our video game
systems and had them nestled in the passenger seat of Maggie May, my big blue
Dodge Ram truck, for my daughter to find upon our return. She was quite excited
to see them and climbed up into the cab.
As I went around the other side and slid behind the wheel, Beans drew my
attention to a solitary red plastic shopping cart that sat alone in the parking
lot beneath a streetlight.
There were no immediate stores near the movie theater so she
wanted to know where it was from. I explained that there were quite a bit of
stores in the shopping plaza as it was about a half of a mile in length. That
answer did not quite satisfy her curiosity, so moments later there we were, the
two of us joining the lonely red carriage under the buzzing glow of the
flickering streetlight.
The little red carriage had the name of a liquor store upon
its side in tiny white print. She asked
me where that store was and I explained it was at the other end of the plaza,
the very last store. She didn’t even
need to ask the next question, for in my heart I knew this night would see the
two of us escorting the wayward cart back to its rightful place in the world.
“But Daddy it’s an outcast! It’s a misfit! We have to bring
it back! Can we?” she exclaimed as she grabbed the shiny metal handlebar and
looked up to me for approval. I agreed
and saddled up alongside her to start our little quest through the empty
parking lot.
As we walked through the plaza past the gymnasium, the
breakfast diner, and the materials store, we had a great little discussion
about misfits and outcasts and how we should always look out for each other. She
named the cart “Rickety” as it did have a penchant for wobbling along the
asphalt. But, as rickety as he was, he still should be with his family, and we
were just the people to bring him there according to my little one.
I explained to her, as best a father of 39 can to his
daughter of 9 years, that we are all called to help each other through this
life; those that are like us, and those that are not. We must always look out for those in need,
for we all stumble sometime. Kindness is
what matters. Having a helpful heart,
despite the circumstances and the opinions of those around us, we must do what
we know to be right. It is a big lesson; a lesson that some people sadly never
seem to learn, yet one that is so very key to our human experience. Perhaps
some might think it is too big a lesson for a small child and a red shopping
cart named Rickety, but I feel it is a lesson that knows no age limit. Plus, who
knows when I might have time to teach it again?
As we strolled up to the closed liquor store behind the red
frame and the shimmering handlebar of the once lost shopping cart, we corralled
two more strays that went unnamed, and returned them all to the front of the
store, parking them beneath the still glowing neon signs. The other carts all sat inside the glass
windows staring out at us thankfully.
My daughter pushed on the handle of the cart once more,
saying, “There you go. You’re home now.”
Tim Burton’s work with Lewis Carroll’s Alice Through The Looking Glass was very well done, but the story
of Rickety is the one I will always
remember fondly.