Memorial Art Gallery

A Thursday evening at the Memorial Art Gallery in downtown Rochester. An attractive young couple is out on a date. They walk slowly from exhibit to exhibit, murmuring softly to each other about about the pieces that they pass. The young woman brushes a strand of blonde hair out of her face and looks sideways at the man in a crisply pressed shirt beside her while he looks over a terracotta sculpture in the Asian room. The room is brightly lit and the only sounds are the quiet shuffling of other patron's feet and their own hushed murmurs--the jazz duo in the lobby can't be heard from here, nor the clinking of wineglasses outside the giftshop.

As the attractive young woman turns to say something to her date she suddenly discerns an unexpected sound--the sound of tiny feet pitter-pattering much more quickly than any of the heavy shuffles of well-made adult dress shoes all around. She looks back over her shoulder and a tiny blonde boy emerges from behind a piece of statuary wearing an unzipped yellow coat and grinning from ear to ear. He wobbles unsteadily, looks behind him, then pat-pat-pats over to an iron sculpture of a horse. He looks surprised, grins again, and waves to the horse.

The young woman gently nudges her date with an elbow, and points at the little boy, just barely more than a baby, and clearly still unstable on his little feet. He weaves in and out of surprised patrons at knee length, and makes several circles around the center of the room, not particularly caring to look where he's going and smiling all the while. Wondering if he's running through the museum unsupervised, the young woman looks back to the door and sees a man in a peacoat enter with a slightly older boy who is his father's image in duplicate, just several feet shorter. The father beholds the little blonde boy, who has run into a display case and tipped over, with a tired smile.

"Stay with us, Owen. James, in this room there is a boat, a fox, two horses, and a little girl. Can you see if you can find them?"
"I want to hold the map again, Daddy."

The blonde girl smiles at her date, who waves at the little blonde boy. His grin widens, and he halts, lifts up an arm, and waves back.

The couple make their way into the next room, and exhibition of European painters from 1800-1900. The museum's Monet is in here, along with several other of the most valuable paint works. She stands with her date and asks him for an opinion on something, when she suddenly feels something brush against her leg.

She looks down, and there is the little blonde boy grinning and looking up at her expectantly. She smiles in surprise, and he waves at her, then lifts his arms expectantly.

The father in the peacoat steps over quickly and retrieves his son with a hasty apology while the older son sizes up an elephant. The father brings the younger son over to the elephant statue. This leads to several seconds of surprised interest, more waving, an attempt to lick the glass display case, and then wiggling down and running off (pat-pat-pat-pat) into another room again.

"The last horse is over in that corner. Do you see it? Well, never mind, let's go catch up to Owen again."
"Hey, do you think that Owen would fit in the mummy case?"