I didn’t know what that meant yet, but I nodded anyway.
***
Our backyard became a hybrid workshop and junkyard over the following two weeks.
Ethan dragged out old bikes from the shed. He found a broken stroller that someone had thrown out. He even asked Mr. Alvarez, a close neighbor, if he could take the spare wheels from his old lawn equipment.
“I have an idea.”
PVC pipes started stacking up near the fence.
I offered to help, but Ethan shook his head.
“I’ve got it. I just need time.”
Every afternoon after school, my son measured, cut, and adjusted the items he’d collected. He was building wheelchairs for the dogs’ immobile back legs.
“I just need time.”
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