Chapter One_The Meeting

Small feet pattered down the road, towards the sweet smells emanating from the roadside shop.

Liyal's mouth watered at the scene before him, as he approached the shop showcasing the goodies his stomach so longed for, these past days.

There were cakes, buttered bread, different types of pies, various sweet teas, and appetizing soups in various containers; so many delicious things, not counting the fruits that were also on vivid display on wooden stands, in front of the shop.

Little children like him crowded the front of the shop, pointing at, and buying so many things.

Some adults were also there, purchasing items for themselves, and their families.

Liyal looked on, with hunger glowing in his dark eyes.

The shop was built like a kiosk in front, and had a large, enclosed space behind it where the owner prepared his delicacies, then large stands placed outside, on which he showcased his goods and made sales.

Liyal moped for a while, then gathered enough courage to approach the crowd in front of the shop, his hunger propelling him.

"Hey, little tramp, scram!" A well-dressed buxom woman shooed him away angrily.

"Yes, go away from here!" A man chimed in, "I bet he has come here to steal," he continued, making a show of clutching his satchels and bags tighter.

"Everyone, look out for your bags and purchases, we have a thief around!" Another man warned, as he picked up a sturdy stick from the ground to chase Liyal away.

Feeling emboldened by the adults' actions, the horde of little children crowded round Liyal, and began to hit and kick him mercilessly.

"Thief, thief!!" They all yelled at the top of their little voices.

"Go away from here, dirty thief!" They shouted again and again, as they pushed and hit Liyal around.

But little Liyal proved quite strong for them, as he fought back with equal measure.

For a little, hungry tramp, he sure had great fighting energy and spirit.

Hinam was inside his shop getting some change for his customers, when he heard the commotion.

He quickly rushed outside to behold a large crowd gathered in front of his shop.

"What is going on here?!" He shouted, looking perplexed.

"Master Hinam," began one of the righteous-looking adults in the crowd; by now the commotion had garnered the attention of some of the owners of the other shops along the road, including their customers, and they had all rushed to Hinam's shop to know what was happening.

"This little thief wants to steal from you and your customers, the children are preventing him from doing so," the adult informed him.

"Is that so?" Hinam asked, looking around, not quite believing what he heard.

Choruses of 'Yes!' and 'Absolutely! greeted him.

He took a look at the little boy accused of trying to steal from him.

His dirty clothes were now in tatters, as a result of the fight with the children of the crowd.

He had a great amount of mud and other indescribable things on his face, neck, and limbs.

He looked the very image of a thieving, hungry tramp.

Hinam sighed gravely in his heart.

He had seen many children like him; hungry, dirty, orphaned runaways, or castaways.

His shop had always been a sort of beacon to them, why, he did not know.

But he always gave kind words, food, water, clothes, and more often than not; money.

He was that sort of busybody.

People had said he was too kind, but what was he to do? He had experienced that kind of life, and knew the horrors associated with it.

His heart always went out to children like that.

"Who are you, and what is your name?" He asked the little tramp a little loudly.

For answer, the little tramp just shook his head.

"See, he refuses to answer because he knows he is guilty," sneered one of the people in the crowd.

"I say let's hand him over to the authorities. Let them deal with thieving tramps like him!" Spat yet another voice from the crowd.

There were various murmurs of agreement to the suggestion.

"Enough!" Hinam shouted, quieting down the riled-up crowd.

"Let me handle this," he told the large crowd and made shooing motions with his hands and spatula, to disperse them.

"Suit yourself," a woman spat with dis-satisfaction as she clutched her purchases and stomped away, her children tagging behind her.

"You will regret this, Master Hinam," said yet another customer as the crowd began to trickle away, murmuring in discontent.

"Yes, yes, thank you for your good advice, but please kindly clear away from the front of my shop, if you are not making any purchases," Hinam further shooed them, annoyance on his face.

When the crowd finally cleared away, Hinam beckoned the little tramp to come closer.

He did.

"What is your name?" Hinam asked Liyal again.

Liyal just shook his head once more.

Exhaling deeply, Hinam took the little boy by hand and led him inside his shop, away from prying eyes and nosy passersby.

Once inside the shop, he let down the thick metal door to ensure further privacy, then focused his attention on the dirty-looking boy.

Hinam bent down to his level, his hands placed on his knees, then began;

"Are you dumb?" He asked Liyal, who just shook his head in response.

"Are you deaf?" Hinam asked again.

Liyal simply shook his head.

"Where are you from?"

Hinam was met with yet another head shake.

"Do you have parents, guardians, anybody?" Hinam pressed on.

Liyal bravely shook his head again.

"So you are an orphan?" Hinam asked, deliberately lowering his voice.

His eyes fixed on Hinam's face, Liyal shook his head once more.

By now Hinam was getting exasperated.

Something was fishy with this little boy standing before him.

He blew out air from his mouth and straightened himself, then folded his arms across his chest, his eyes now warily scouring over the little tramp.

Liyal, not minding the skeptic attention on him, slowly raised his hand and pointed at the various delicacies inside Hinam's shop.

"You want me to feed you before you say anything to me, is that it?" Hinam asked the little boy, noting his glittering eyes.

Laughing lowly, he pushed the little boy to a wooden stool at a corner of his shop for him to sit, then began piling up some food in a plate for him.

Hinam put some slices of buttered bread, two cobs of fresh corn, and large chunks of stewed meat in a plate, then poured fresh, hot milk in a cup, put them in a wooden tray, and approached the hungry boy.

Liyal gulped audibly as the food neared him.

"Pretty clever of you," Hinam said in a neutral tone, as he placed the tray over the boy's laps.

Liyal's hand immediately shot out to grab some bread, but Hinam slapped it away.

Liyal looked up with a frown on his small face.

"Your hands are very dirty. In fact, the whole of you is very dirty. So do both of us a favor by washing your hands in that basin over there," Hinam scolded, pointing to a corner of the shop.

"And use the soap. Do you understand me?" Hinam commanded the little boy, looking into his eyes.

For answer Liyal nodded, and carefully got up, placed his food tray on the stool, and went to do as he was ordered.

"That's quite assuring," Hinam mused pensively, as he watched the little boy scrub and wash his hands furiously, like he was afraid of displeasing him.

For a little tramp, he sure knew good hygiene.

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Hinam watched the little boy wolf down his food and gulp down the cup of hot milk he gave him, not minding the hotness or coolness of it.

He even belched for added measure.

He had been trying to have bits of conversation with him as he ate, but they were all in vain, as the little tramp was so concentrated on his meal.

Hinam sighed again, his hand placed on his chin in a thoughtful manner, as he watched the little boy's head loll sideways now and then in a heavy, post-meal sleep.

Liyal had quickly dropped the food tray on the floor after eating, and proceeded to have himself a sweet sleep, while still sitting on the stool.

Rousing himself from his thoughts, Hinam picked up a straw mat from a secluded corner of his shop, and laid it on the ground, beside the nodding boy.

He then shook Liyal awake, who looked at him with bleary eyes.

"Mat. You sleep." Hinam said, his fingers pointing from the laid straw mat to the sleepy boy.

Without further ado, Liyal glumped down on the mat from the stool, and continued his much needed sleep, quiet snores escaping his small lips.

Hinam shook his head, then moved around to tidy his shop, and resume his business.

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Evening came, and shop owners began to shut down for the day, while their customers hasted home with their wares.

Hinam was not excluded, as he packed in his goods, and folded his stands.

Inside the shop, Liyal was meditating, his legs folded in a lotus position, his face looking very restful.

He had entered into meditation as soon as he woke up from his slumber, much to Hinam's surprise.

But he said nothing.

Having finished what he was doing, Hinam approached the still figure, and tapped him on his shoulders.

"Time to leave, I'm locking up shop." He said.

Liyal opened his eyes and nodded at Hinam, then got up, neatly rolled-up the straw mat, and stood it in a corner of the shop.

Hinam raised up one of his eyebrows in surprise.

Having completed his task, Liyal came closer to Hinam, who motioned him to step outside the shop so he could lock up.

Liyal did so, and Hinam carefully locked up.

With his deep, wooden basket, which contained his unsold goods hung snugly on his back, and his slender wooden staff held securely in his fist, Hinam was now ready to go home.

Facing Liyal he spoke softly; "I'm very sorry, little boy, but we must part ways here."

"Here, have some money, and take care of yourself," He implored, handing a small, brown satchel to the little boy, who was staring at him like he wasn't talking.

"You are always welcome to my shop for food. Stay out of trouble." Hinam advised, then walked past the little boy, who stood rooted at the spot, having no reaction whatsoever.

"What a strange child..." Hinam mused, his footsteps taking him farther and farther away from the little figure.

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Someone had been following Hinam, though the person was doing a very poor job of hiding it.

When Hinam paused, the person would pause, and when he moved, the person followed suit.

It was becoming annoying, and had it not been that the person had a non-threatening aura, Hinam would have long attacked his stalker.

But no way was this person getting near his house.

So he stood still and called out strongly; "Who's there!"

"I command you to show yourself!" He further demanded.

With this he swiftly turned round, jabbed his slender wooden staff forward forcefully, but withdrew it hastily, when he saw who was standing before him.

The little tramp.

Hinam raised both of his eyebrows in surprise.

"Little boy, what are you doing following me?" He carefully asked the boy as he neared him.

Liyal stayed mute, but stared hard at Hinam, who found it a little disconcerting.

That kind of gaze was too hard to be, on the face of such a little boy.

"Did you not hear what I said?" Hinam, now standing directly in front of the dirty-looking boy, asked him, with a bit of impatience in his tone.

Liyal unfazed, stepped closer to the man he considered his saviour, and said with as much steel as he could muster in his young voice; "I want to go home with you."

"And yet another surprise; the dumb could speak!" Hinam mused within sarcastically.

"I don't want to go anywhere. I want to go home with you!" Liyal spoke again, now clutching the down part of Hinam's garments.

"And what if I refuse, young man, that has no name?" Hinam asked, snatching his clothes off the dirty boy's grip, and putting some distance between them.

".... My name is Danit.... Then I will keep following you. You cannot get rid of me!" Liyal declared, his little chest puffing up with determination.

"Such strong words from a stinky brat!" Hinam spat, angrily shaking his wooden staff at the arrogant thing.

In all his years, he never imagined that a young child could speak to him in such a fearless manner.

"How dared you!" Hinam continued, almost throttling him.

Putting down his staff, he turned away from the annoying brat to calm down a little.

It was ridiculous, him having a face-off with a little child, in the night, of all times.

He took a deep breath, and faced him again to ask; "Say, how old are you?"

Smiling sheepishly, Liyal answered, "Your humble servant is almost nine."

What a wolf!

He had no time for this.

Shaking his head, Hinam strongly refused the little tramp; "Go away, you cannot come with me. Use the money I gave you wisely."

And without waiting for a reply or any tantrum, Hinam turned away from Liyal, and resumed his homeward journey, humming an uppity tune to lift up his spirits.

Liyal stood where Hinam left him, the fire of determination burning in his eyes, as he watched the basket-strapping figure disappear from his sight.