Hey, Wait For Me
The younger boy follows behind her little brother, hands outstretched, rope walking the one-foot block wall. The mother follows behind, on the sidewalk, keeping an eye on both boys. The one in front puts one foot after the other confidently, with ease. Soon, the distance between the two daredevils increases considerably, although the leader is too absorbed in following his imaginary tight wire to notice. But the one lagging behind begins to whimper, and seeing his brother getting too far ahead of him, suddenly loses his confidence and begins to whopper. He calls out finally, his voice trembling: "Hey, wait for me." His mother hastens her steps towards her trembling son, as he extends his little right hand to her, urging: "Takes my hand." Now, it is the mother's turn to call out to the one totting in front: "John, wait up."
Walking behind the trio, the spectator's mind fast forwards the captured scene, to a future time. She sees the trio, now at a different walk of life. On a different type of wall, the brothers, now much older, still follow each other. The bolder one still launches on towards higher and steeper summits, racing after all the promises: money, women, status. His more cautious brother still looks carefully before taking each next step, his calmer face looking up to check the progress of his brother, to urge him firmly: "Slow down, John. You are risking it. Come back, it's not worth your life, John."
From beyond the earthly scene, the mother, now invisible to both her sons, witnesses the rope-walkers silently, tenderly, but sadly, her extended arms outstretched, yet powerless.