The stroller rumbled along the brick walkway. The ride was bouncy, sproingy, a bit topply and tumbly. Especially whenever Mama said, “Oop!” or breathed in through the back of her teeth. It made Rory’s red bottle cap jump into the air and fall back down onto his tray with a clatter and clack and kck-kck-kllll.

The stroller stopped at another glass window. This one was near a big tree. Rory looked from its bottom, where parts of the tree were poking up through the brick path, all the way up to its top. The branches were full of squawking birds. Rory wondered if Mama and Daddy knew what the birds were saying.

“Wow!” Mama said, kneeling by the stroller. Her cheeks were red and she had a smudge of dirt on her pants right where Rory’s foot sits when she picks him up. “Look, Rory. Zaboomafoo!”

Rory looked where Mama was pointing, but only for a moment. Mama might have seen a zuh-boo-muh-foo, but Rory had decided back at the floppy-eared elephants that he was too tired for this anymore. “Done,” he said and let his eyes wander.

That’s when he saw it.

It was sitting near the bottom of the tree, mixed in with all the brown leaves and twigs and seed pods. It wasn’t one of the “great” legged and tailed and horned and fuzzy’ed things hiding behind the glass windows and fences. No, it was the real greatest thing.

“Done, done,” Rory said, grabbing at the straps around his waist. Rory might have been too sleepy to watch the zoob-ah-muh-foo, but he had the perfect amount of energy for this. He prodded at the red button holding him to his seat and looked up. Mama was too busy watching the things on the other side of the glass window. But that’s what Daddy was for.

“You wanna walk, buddy?” Daddy asked, bending down so his face was in Rory’s. He smelled like lunch. Daddy pressed the button and lifted Rory from the stroller.

There was no time for thanks. As soon as Rory’s feet were on the cobbly brick path, he made for the big tree. He only paused once, when a particularly big white bird turd caught his eye. “Kaka, kaka,” he said, looking back at Daddy before moving on.

Rory walked through the tree litter. Crunch, crunch went the leaves. Snip, snap went the twigs. Thunk, roll went the seed pods. Caw caw eh-eh-eh-eeehhh! went the birds in the branches above. Sometimes, this many sounds made Rory feel scared, but not today. Today, Rory was too focused on snatching up his prize before anyone else saw it was there.

“Ehhhh,” Rory said as his fingers wrapped around a stick—the stick, the perfect stick. The kind of stick that’s just the right bit of long and thick and doesn’t have any extra knobbly bumps or twiggy branches that could poke Rory in the eye. Rory lifted his stick in triumph and looked around.

Because what does one do with the perfect stick? Read, of course. And this place, for all of its kind of interesting, sort of cool stuff, had one really awesome thing going for it: there were signs everywhere.

The closest sign was the one by Mama. It had a picture of the zah-bah-moo-foo on it and lots of words. Rory was so excited to read the words with his stick that he ran across the grass—and right into the ledge along the brick path.

“Oof!” Rory’s shoe whacked against the brick. Before he knew what was happening, he’d flopped right onto his tummy with his arms and legs spread out like a squished bug.

Mama froze and looked at Rory, but she didn’t say anything. Daddy either. They’d been doing that a lot lately. They always waited when he fell, instead of running up to him like they used to. Rory guessed that was because falling didn’t hurt as much as it used to. He laid on the bricks for a second. There was a spot on his leg bumping like a drum that hurt. Rory scootched off his tummy to his bum. He was about to call for Mama to come kiss his leg when he saw his stick. And that was about as good as a Mama kiss.

Rory used his empty hand to push himself off the ground. “Hmph!” he scolded the brick ledge for being so sneaky. Then he turned back to the sign and smiled. “Ehhhh!”

With his perfect stick, Rory poked at the pictures and the letters. He read every single word out loud, making sure he was loud enough for Mama and Daddy to hear. All words are better when you have a perfect stick, and Rory was an excellent reader. He was so good at reading that he finished the entire sign before Daddy did!

Sometimes, Rory was sad when he finished reading because he liked it so much. But at this place, there was no need to be sad. Because as soon as Rory finished with the zuh…oofoomahoo! sign, he saw another sign. They really were everywhere!

Finally, after it felt like Rory had read every sign along the brick path, Mama called out, “Rory, baby. You want some lunch?”

“Luhh?” Rory repeated. He froze with his stick still pointing at the stripey, roary animal picture.

“You look a bit tired, baby,” Mama said. She rolled the stroller next to him and leaned down. “How about we take a break and have some lunch?”

Rory blinked and then realized Mama was right. He was too tired for this. He tucked his stick under his arm and climbed up into his stroller. As Mama clicked his straps into the red button, Rory tapped his stick against his bottle cap. It jumped into the air as the stroller rumbled along the path. Rory was asleep before they made it to the lunch place, but that’s okay. In his dreams, he was awake enough to find another perfect stick and read all the signs in this place.

KHM.

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Inspiration for “The Stick & the Sign” came from a family trip to the Johannesburg Zoo. Our daughter had been content in her stroller all morning, refusing to get out even if it meant looking at concrete dividers instead of elephants and cheetahs. It was only after a snack and the right motivation—in this case, a stick—that she found her feet. And once she did, she didn’t stop!