The plaza in front of Mainz Cathedral stretched wide and car-free.
In front of it, our kids ran around the plaza—arms outstretched, scattering birds from statue to statue.
“Pigeon, pigeon, pigeon!”
“Bird!”
It didn’t matter that their words weren’t legible.
It didn’t matter that they made a scene.
No one here minded.
Well, no one minded but the pigeons.
The chase carried them across the square, past statues and benches, through a maze of stone and shadow. They raced toward the central fountain, their feet pounding against centuries-old cobblestones.
And then Avery tripped.
It happened both faster and slower than seemed possible. In the half-second before impact, I already knew how it would end, but the actual event unfurled in slow motion like destiny playing out in real-time.
Right on queue then, his face smacked the ground, and when he lifted his head, blood covered his face.
I scooped him up without thinking. The nearest bathroom … the coffee shop. They had to have one.
Rushing over, with Avery wailing in my arms, I managed to explain. Sympathy came instantly. How could it not, with a bleeding toddler? But no, they didn’t have a restroom.
Then, I ran again, all the way back to our hotel room.
Through the plaza, past the cathedral, across streets and sidewalks, dodging tourists and bicycles. Avery’s cries faded as we moved, the initial shock wearing off. By the time we reached the hotel, he had stopped crying altogether. Still rushed through the doors and up the opulent stairway and through the halls, fumbling with the skeleton key lock.
Inside, I set him down in the bathroom, turned on the tap, and began wiping away the blood. No cuts, broken noses, or missing teeth. A lot of blood, and even that was already drying.
He had long stopped crying, and by the time I finished cleaning him up, the bleeding had stopped as well. His shirt was the sole casualty.
I swapped it for a clean one, ran a damp hand through his hair, and looked at him. His eyes were already darting toward the door.
This time, we walked.
~
Reunited with his family, Avery didn’t even acknowledge his fall. Within seconds, he was at it again.
“Pigeon, pigeon, pigeon!”
The birds never stood a chance.