A school bell rang somewhere to his side, and he turned to take in the old grammar school where he went to kindergarten. Somehow he knew it was going to be there, looking just as it had so long ago, with pristine angles and windows, and a lush, friendly landscape full of shrubs and trees. Even the flag pole was there, out front where he used to look up and dream of climbing it all the way to the top. Those were the days when he was on top of the world. He was happy then, with friends to spare.

Seconds after the bell, a barrage of toddlers came pouring down the front steps, alive with chatter and the excitement of youth. It was recess time, Harvey knew, a child's favorite time when school became play and the imagination could jump in to transform the most ordinary into whatever one wanted it to be. Harvey remembered fondly the many times the jungle gym had become a spaceship, or the tunnel had become a dungeon. Yes indeed, recess never seemed to disappoint.

All at once, a group of the children merged around Harvey, tugging him back toward the swings. They were surging with energy, an energy that was contagious even to Harvey. He knew that their choosing of him was no accident when he got a better look at the kids.

"Charles? John? Becky?"

Becky was the wildest of spirit by far, a young girl with blond curls and bright blue eyes. Her dress was a floral pink, and filled with lovely frills, which only added to her overall prettiness. It was all just as he remembered it, but how?

"How can it be you guys? Still this age?"

Becky giggled and rolled her eyes to Charles.

"Silly, Harvey. We can play when we get to the swings."

"C'mon, Harv," John added, pushing from the back, "You're holdin' it all up."

Then it dawned on him. These children, his dear friends of the past, didn't see him as he was. To them, he was still five years old, one of them, ready to play and carry on for all it was worth. He allowed the early spring air to invigorate him as he came to that conclusion. It had been way too long since anyone had actually wanted to be with him. And what more perfect day was there to become a child again than this one?

"All right, guys, all right," he chuckled, moving on his own in the direction they were leading him.

"Do ya still have your car?" Charles chimed, bolting for an empty swing and claiming it before anyone else could beat him to the prize.

On every side of his friend, other little ones swung to and fro, reaching higher and higher as they screamed with glee. Harvey could feel the butterflies in his stomach as he thought back to what that felt like, the freedom of soaring on a swing.

"I brought mine, Harv." John added. "Let's race!"

He looked into his hand and realized that Blazer was still there, just as it had been when he was in the room with Mrs. Bloomfield. The sun gleamed off of the metallic front bumper as he proudly brought it out in front of him.

"I've got Blazer right here." he answered, kneeling. "You're on, John."

"Harvey," Becky innocently called from behind him. "Can I race with Blazer today? He's such a purty car."

She batted her eyes and looked at him with the hopefulness of a lost puppy.

"Becky, I told you before. Blazer's mine! He's special! Only I can race with him."

"Okay Harvey," she sighed and sat down on the edge of the sandbox where the swings were. She was pouting ever so slightly. "I know, I'm just askin'. I like Blazer... just like I like you."

He virtually ignored her and got down to the serious work of zooming Blazer along the sand against John's blue sports car, both of them cutting trails that wound in directions that would have made real drivers extremely ill. John began to get into it, adding sound effects such as the roar of the engine and the screech of tires on the tight curves. Harvey suddenly realized that he had missed this kind of thing a little more than he thought.

Then, for no apparent reason at all, John lunged forward, crashing his car into Blazer in a mock accident of epic proportions.

"Ah no!" John shouted suddenly, his imagination going overboard. "My car's outta control!"

Harvey was caught off guard and knocked backward, hitting the sand face up with such a force that the wind was knocked out of him for a few moments. Somehow, crying seemed out of the question, but he was dazed and feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"Oh, Harvey!" Becky called, running to him and wrapping him up a big hug. "Are ya hurt? Pleeeese don't be hurt!"

"What did you do that for, John?" Harvey cut in, leaning up slightly on his elbows.

"Sorry, Harv. Just playin'. Don't tell on me."

"I don't care 'bout the cars, Harvey," Becky continued on. "Just be all right."

Perhaps it was impact of the push, perhaps it was many other things coming from the perspective of a man much older and presumably wiser than the situation now demanded of him. As he looked at Becky, he remembered what had eventually driven her away. He had cared greatly about her, but at the same time, he had always been overly concerned with himself and his own needs in life. It had been his own importance which had finally won out and led him down the path to bitter loneliness, despite success in his career. Blazer had been his favorite treasure, a toy that defined just how special of a kid he had been. That treasure had gotten him nowhere, though, despite all his self confidence. He began to get a faint understanding of what had gone wrong.

"What's wrong, Harvey?" Becky's sweet voice chimed in, laced with devastating concern. "Do ya' need the nurse?"

To children, even small injuries could seem like a prelude to death.

"I'm okay, Becky," he smiled.

He looked into her face, which was full of unconditional caring, and then back to Blazer, resting upside down in his hand. What was it that Mrs. Bloomfield had said? Some treasures were meant to be shared. It was something he never put together before, but he wondered for a moment if that was the way happiness worked in life. He wondered if that was why he had never found it. Perhaps, just perhaps, the treasure wasn't in the car itself, but in the sharing of it.

He had lived his life in lonely sadness, each day no better than the day before. He had placed blame everywhere but on himself. It was going to end now, he told himself. The pain was too much to bear. A new path was going to open up for him, and it was going to begin with a simple gesture, a true treasure.

"Becky," he smiled, pulling back from her hug. "You can play with Blazer. You're special enough for him too."

He reached out and gently placed his favorite toy in the world into her hands. She stared at him with unbelieving joy, her eyes brighter than the sun itself at that moment.

"Oh, thank you, Harvey! You're the bestest friend I could ever have!"

She hugged him again, and that was it. Something shifted in his soul. Some ominous, inner wall came crumbling down, and freed him to experience the side of life he had longed would come to him, but never understood why it did not. He closed his eyes and basked in the warmth of his feelings. Life would still bring it's challenges, it's endless hardships, but now he could be truly happy and truly free. Everything was going to be okay, at long last.

He opened his eyes to find himself in a bed, though exactly where he was not yet sure. It looked like his own room, but everything was vastly different, from the furnishings and plants, to the very size of the bed itself, which was big enough to accomodate two people. Rolling to one side and sitting up, he tried to clear his head of the fog that had overcome him just then. What had just happened there? Had his journey back to the grammar school all been a dream? And what about the task he was doing before that?

"Mrs. Bloomfield," he muttered. "She never signed the papers..."

He must have gotten drunk again somehow. That had to be it. Still, his head felt clearer now than it had ever felt before. Why did he now feel a new energy deep within him, a hope that colored the world so differently than it was before?

As he picked up the phone to check on the status of Mrs. Bloomfield's foreclosure, a vision of a woman marched through the door. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes a deep blue and filled with gentle love. She moved with a purpose and confidence Harvey could only envy. He stared profusely before finally finding himself able to speak.

"Becky!?"

"Yes, dear. Time to get up.... you're late."

She was beautiful, now fully grown, but what on earth was she doing here? The last he remembered, she had moved to Alaska after her parent's divorce, back when they were in junior high.

"Becky... was I... was I drunk?"

"Sweetie, you don't drink, what are you talking about?"

She looked at him with a calculating eye.

"Do you need one of my special hugs again?"

"I'm... I'm fine," he smiled, getting an idea of what may have happened here, of the forces that were now at work. "Becky, humor me, please. You... being here?"

"I'm your wife, Harvey. Of course I'm here. Did you have one of your bad dreams again?"

"Dreams... er... yes. A very bad dream. Tell me... what do I do? What's my job?"

"All right. We'll play this game. You're a judge... the best judge in the whole county as far as I'm concerned."

"A... a judge?"

She walked up and sat beside him, wrapping him up in her offered hug, which would have melted steel given the chance. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled with a glowing radiance.

"And the best husband. The kindest, sweetest man a gal like me could ever ask for."

Unable to hold back, he let loose the feelings inside and kissed her with heartfelt passion. When at last it was done, she spoke breathlessly, as if her very life was being channeled through her words.

"And I love you very much."

He stood and took her hand.

"I love you, too, Becky. I always have, and I always will."

She chuckled again.

"Now get ready, Harv. John's ready for school and you need to get to work."

"John?"

"Our son, sweetie. He'll be disappointed if you don't send him off today."

His son? This was all so overwhelming, so hard to believe, but with a smile, he knew that it was what he had always wanted and would not trade it for anything in the world. Anything, not even the love of a toy car that had filled his childhood with such wonder and magic. A toy car that now caught his eye as he looked onto the nightstand sitting beside the bed. Blazer was still there, still very much a part of his life. Now, though, it would be a greater life, full of meaning and purpose. He would do all the things he only dreamed of before.

As he looked at the car, he felt sensations of immense gratitude. Blazer had helped him change his life, and he would certainly repay the little car. Lifting it up, he threw a robe over his pajamas and headed downstairs, knowing exactly what the right thing was to do.

As he reached the base of the stairway, a voice very much like his own as a child rang out.

"Hey, Dad!"

A boy of six approached, dressed for a serious day of study, complete with a small backpack and lunchbox. Harvey smiled and lowered to one knee, knowing that this couldn't be anyone but his own son.

"Hey, Johnnie. You have a great day at school today."

"I will, Dad. Today, the teacher's takin' us to the zoo."

"She is?" Harvey beamed as Becky, his wife and friend forever, came down the stairs to stand behind him. "Well then, you'll need something to look after when you're there."

He brought Blazer out from behind his back and gave it to his son, knowing that it would do the most good there. The circle completed itself this way, but opened up many future paths at the same time. The little car would be passed from generation to generation in a grand tradition of love started right here and right now.

"Thanks, Dad," the boy breathed, his face lighting up. "What a neat car!"

"You're welcome, sport. Just promise you'll always share it with the other children. Blazer there likes to be shared."

As Harvey turned to look at his wife and then son again, the looks of devotion and acceptance he received justified all the pain he had gone through in a life that was now nothing but a bad memory. Somewhere out there, an old woman had given him a second chance, and he would be a fool not to make the most of it. Yes indeed, some treasures were at their absolute best when they were shared.

The plumber pulled his old white van up to the curb of Number Fourteen Harcourt Avenue. In practiced seconds, he retrieved his case of tools from the back of the vehicle and then trudged up to the door of the house, ringing the musical doorbell as he took in the flowers and trees outside with idle interest. There was a time he had learned to appreciate things like that, but now he had neither the time nor patience to do so. There were better things to do in life than stare at landscaping all day.

The door creaked open after several moments and a very old woman greeted him with eyes that were an odd shade of rich silver. They surveyed the plumber for a bit before the woman finally spoke, in words that were somehow knowing and laced with a certain amount of mystery.

"Please come in, Mr. Porter," Mrs. Bloomfield smiled, standing to the side and opening the door wide. "I've been expecting you."

THE END