It was about 8:15 last night when someone rang my doorbell rapidly three times, and then switched to loud knocking.
Good grief!
I opened the door, expecting some manner of emergency. Instead, there stood two boys, though one looked large enough to be an adult.
The smaller, shirtless one did the talking. He said he and his friend were looking for yard work so they could earn enough money to go to the Aquatic Center the next day.
“We’re going to go swimming, and jump off the diving board and stuff,” he said. “It costs three dollars and twenty-five cents. We got enough money for me to go, but not him.”
The boys were sweaty. They said they’d been walking and knocking on doors for hours, like at least three or four, and they’d only earned that first $3.25.
I asked if their parents knew they were out so late, knocking on strangers’ doors, asking for work. They said yes. I asked if they had phones, in case others wanted to hire them another time. They said no.
On the one hand, tiny bells went off inside my head with regard to these boys, who stuck me as slightly feral. On the other hand, I am a sucker for hard-working, enterprising kids.
My brain is crammed with memories of all the childhood money-making schemes my often-unsupervised sisters and I created to pay for things like admission to the Cascade Theatre or The Plunge (now called the Aquatic Center).
Some of my best childhood memories were from The Plunge. Just the mention of its name conjures up chlorine-tainted olfactory hallucinations.
Just the other day two of my sisters and I were marveling at how, when we were little kids, we walked in the heat of Redding’s summers, no drinking water (that’s before God created bottled water), from our downtown Redding rental (our mom didn’t drive) all the way to The Plunge in Caldwell Park.
We had enough money to get in, and sometimes for a treat, like a frozen Milky Way bar, but that was it. We stayed there until The Plunge closed, then walked home again, via the Market Street Bridge. It blows my mind now to imagine four little girls walking that route alone.
But hey, look at us. We turned out just fine.
I told the boys they could rake the leaves near my fence. I got them a pitcher of water, two cups, two rakes and a big metal dustpan.
The younger boy said he’s 12 years old, and he’s probably 4’8″ or 4’9″, but he might not be done growing yet. He said he’ll be moving soon, to a place with acreage out in Shasta Lake City. He said it’s cheaper to live out there, like $500 a month, so that’s better.
The bad news is the move will mean he and his friend won’t see each other as often as they do now. The good news is that when they do see each other, it’ll probably be for longer periods of time, to make the drive worthwhile.
The older boy said people often think he’s older than 13, because he’s already 6’1″. He had a baby face, and he softly asked questions, such as about the trees. He said my palm tree reminded him of something that should be in Hollywood. When he saw a pair of cats across the street romping on my neighbor’s lawn, he said that I should get one if I don’t have one, because cats are nice.
The boys said they’ve been friends for about four years, and they live somewhere in the downtown area.
The bigger boy said they’d been walking and walking almost all day trying to earn money to go to the Aquatic Center, without much success.
“Most people say, ‘We don’t have any work’ and everything like that,” he said as he raked and motioned to the younger boy to hold the dustpan for the leaves.
“We looked all over the place,” he said. “We walked all the way past the Dollar Store and Movies 8 and up South Street. I guess people don’t have the money, or they have someone else do their yard work. Some people told us we were asking too late, that we should look for yard work in the morning.”
The younger boy piped up with examples of the things he’s learned about yard work in the last year, such as how fall can be a real money-maker, which is how he earned $80 last year. Conversely, he said there’s almost no money in going to trailer parks to ask about yard work, because most trailers don’t have yards.
The boys talked about how they would go swimming the next day, and how there used to be a huge high dive, but it was gone now. The smaller boy reminded the bigger boy that going to the Aquatic Center wasn’t a done deal yet, because it still depended upon whether his mom had enough gas for her car, which would take about $10. The bigger boy said he didn’t have sunscreen. The smaller boy said his friend could borrow his.
They agreed to let me take their photos, and I promised I wouldn’t post any that showed their faces, nor would I publish their names, until I heard from their parents, giving permission. (I gave them each a business card.)
I went back inside, and was there mere seconds before the doorbell rang. It was the younger boy. “This might seem a funny question,” he said, “but can I use your bathroom?”
I hesitated.
“I won’t go number 2,” he said. I opened the door, and before he stepped inside he asked if he should remove his shoes. I said no, that wasn’t necessary.
As I walked him to the bathroom, his head moved from left to right, taking everything in.
He said I had a big house, and that it was nice. I said thank you, then stayed in the kitchen, which is a few feet from the hallway that leads to the bathroom.
I heard no sounds at all, not even a flush. He left the bathroom and I walked him back outside. I returned to the house and looked in the bathroom. Nothing in the toilet. The window was still locked.
After the boys had worked outside about 15 minutes, it was starting to get dark. I told the boys they should probably get going, because their parents would worry.
The leaves were raked. The water pitcher was empty.
I paid them $5 each, which they said was OK.
The older boy said he didn’t have a wallet, because people just come and steal it out of your pocket anyway, which is exactly what he said happened to him once at the Aquatic Center. In fact, a kid actually ripped one of the older boy’s $1 bills as he tried to take it. Lesson learned there. Nobody can steal your wallet if you don’t have one.
I’m wrapping this story up now. It’s after midnight, and I never heard from either boy’s parents.
I won’t publish their names, nor the photo of them standing together, looking straight ahead, unsmiling, like a pair of tired-and-sweaty Redding boys’ version of American Gothic.
But the image that’s stuck most in my mind is as they walked down the street: a tall, big boy with a loping gait – his open shirt flapping – and a slight, smaller boy with perfect posture, both of them literally walking into the sunset.
With any luck, they’ll be just fine.
Independent online journalist Doni Chamberlain founded what’s now known as anewscafe.com in 2007 with her son, Joe Domke of the Czech Republic. Prior to 2007 Chamberlain was an award-winning newspaper opinion columnist, feature and food writer recognized by the Associated Press, the California Newspaper Publishers Association and E.W. Scripps. She lives in Redding, CA.
