The boy

This time, one of the boys threw a rock at him, causing the skin to let out a thin stream of blood. The little boy cried silently, feeling the pain. He was silent, he just stared at his leg, which was shorter than the other. And there was no one in this world who could help him.

"Why are you silent? Did you swallow your tongue?"

"He's crying! Guys, he's crying!"

Tears have always been indicators to hit harder. So anyway, that's what they did. And when the little boy was on the ground, they stopped and spit on him at the same time. And then as they were taking off their pants, they let out the yellow liquid. They coated him with yellow liquid and then the oldest of them threw a rock at him with the words, "Next time, you'll see what we ate for lunch!" But the little boy, hugging his short, slightly crooked leg, said nothing. He prayed like a proper inhabitant of this world and his prayers were answered, for he saw an angel before him.

"What are you doing?" Adelard asked, looking with horror at these boys.

"And who are you? Also a mistake of nature?!" the boy with the red dots on his cheeks asked.

"It is Monsieur Adelard, isn't it," the youngest of them said, looking at him with judgment.

"Monsieur Adelard?"

"What are you doing? Why are you hurting him?" Adelard asked, running up to the boy.

"He is the mistake of nature! So are you!" the other boy said and spat angrily right in Adelard's face. The humiliation received from the children did not have too much of a side effect in Adelard's soul and instead of calling the gendarmes or chasing after them as any other man would have done, he lifted the little, skinny boy and not paying attention to the yellow liquid, which stank strongly, said, "It will be all right."

The little boy remained silent. He felt pain, fear. But still, he had a hope. After all, he was being carried by a kind man who would not hurt him.

After putting him in the carriage, Adelard held out his white handkerchief to him and quietly, not to frighten him, asked, "Where do you live?" To which the little boy replied, "Old houses."

"Old houses? Where's that? There are so many old houses, aren't there?" But the boy didn't want to say anything else. "Well. Don't be afraid. We'll be home soon," Adelard said and tapped the ceiling. The coachman turned in the opposite direction. After a few minutes of long silence, they stopped in front of a large house, at the door of which, Celeste stood. The second angel the little boy had seen. He was beginning to think he was dead and now in heaven. After all, such people, such beauty did not exist in his world, where there was only dirt and empty bottles.

"Who is this boy?" Celeste asked, looking at him with horror in her eyes.

"I don't know. I found him when he was being bullied by other children."

"Monsieur? Is it a boy?" Mathilda exclaimed, covering her nose with her handkerchief. "What is that smell?"

"Children are too inventive these days," Adelard said and lifting this small boy in his arms entered the house.

"What do you want to do with him? Do you want to leave him here?"

"He needs help. Look at those wounds. It's scary to imagine what could have happened to him," Adelard said, setting him down on the couch. The little boy forgot his fright, his condition. All he thought about was that this world is beautiful and he doesn't want to leave this place. Namely the cozy place under the angel's wings.

"What's your name?" Celeste asked, wiping his face with her dress.

"Peter," the little boy said quietly. Only Celeste heard him.

"And my name is Celeste. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Peter said, watching the nimble movements of Nicholas, who was trying to call someone.

"Don't be afraid. No one will hurt you here."

"Nicholas, did you call the doctor?"

"Yes. He'll be with us shortly."

"Good. In the meantime, Mathilda, can you bath him? And find some clothes for him."

"But we don't have clothes for children."

"Right. Then, just find my shirt and make something up."

"Yes Monsieur."

"I'd help you, but I have an important meeting. I have to go!" Adelard said and just left little Peter in the big house.