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T h e  W a y  o f  D r e a m s : T h e  O r p h a n

One long conversation in the park

 

 

“That was not a very clever attempt to steal,” he suddenly whispered in her ear.

The girl did not answer. She felt exhausted, and his words still echoed in her mind - keep silent.

“You will stay with me for now,” he said in the same low voice.

The girl just nodded, hurrying to keep up with him. The end of the day was approaching and the crowd was slowly dispersing. They reached the market exit, and John led her through the streets, slowing his pace to that of the other walkers.

“I am taking you to a park where we can talk,” he briefly informed her.

The girl did not answer. Her head was becoming clearer, however, and she started thinking that she might be in another danger now, with this unknown man dragging her somewhere. He sensed the reluctance in her step.

“Be calm, I won’t turn you to the police. I want to talk to you. And here, have a plum,” he smiled gently, pulling out a fruit from her pocket.

 

They found a little park hidden between residential buildings; reaching an isolated bench, John sat her at one end and sat himself on the other. He watched her with an expressionless concentration.

“I will ask you a few questions, and then you can go if you choose. Have your plums meanwhile. Is that alright with you? You may talk now,” he again changed his voice.

She nodded her head, but did not reach for the plums in her pocket. She merely sat there, dangling her feet and returning John’s gaze.

“What’s your name then?”

“Lara,” she answered slowly. She was examining him.

John was old, but quick in movement, with sharp features protruding from under bushy white hair. His eyes caught her attention. They were so brightly grey, that she felt practically transparent in the,. As he locked his eyes onto her, her stomach convulsed; for a moment, she could not remember how to breathe.

“Lara,” he confirmed. “Do you steal because you are hungry, because you like it, or for another reason perhaps?”

“I,” faltered Lara’s voice reluctant to admit that she stole, “take things because I am hungry most of the time, and then also because we compete.”

“’We’?”

“In the orphanage.”

“The orphanage? Which one?”

Lara gave him the name of the institution. It was in another part of town, far from the Green Market.

“Why did you come this far then? Don’t you have markets and shops nearer to the orphanage?

“We do, but I thought I may find better things here.” Lara blinked and looked away.

John raised his eyebrows questioningly: “And…?” The solid silence following John’s unfinished question made Lara feel almost sick.

“Well, I ran away from the orphanage!” she exclaimed. The sickness in her stomach vanished immediately.

John’s expression softened. “So, you are an orphan and an escaped one. Where do you live now?”

“On the street, with the street kids,” she admitted meekly. “You won’t make me go back to the orphanage, will you?”

“I’m not going to do anything you will not decide for yourself,” he assured her seriously. “You can make choices for yourself.”

Lara straightened up, feeling all grown up. That she could do, make choices for herself.

“So, what happened here today?” continued John.

“I got caught.”

“Are you good at stealing, or are you always this clumsy?” he asked coolly.

Lara smarted at this sudden insult to her stealing skills.

“I am good, I am the best in stealing from all the street boys, but today, it was that wicked woman, and that stupid policeman, and the heat, and I was so hungry…

“Now, now,” John interrupted her coldly. “Shall we blame everyone else, even the weather, just to excuse ourselves for our mistakes? That is not too interesting, is it? Tell me what did you do wrong?”

She looked at him not knowing how to react.

“Think it over,” John almost ordered her, “if you try to steal again from that woman, how would you do it differently, so that you manage to take the plums and get away?”

“I…,” she looked at her dangling feet and started thinking. “I would not have rushed so much to steal the plums…. I would not have chosen her stall to steal from…”

“Right, these are the things you would not have done. But what would you have done instead?”

Lara thought again. “I would have watched her longer and chosen a better moment to take the plums. Then, I should not have picked a woman with shiny eyes. And small ones, on top of that.”

“Why wouldn’t you pick a woman with small and shiny eyes?” he asked her quite attentively of the suddan.

“Because people with shiny eyes see better what happens around them, and with people with small eyes it’s harder to tell what they are looking at and what they are thinking.”

“So, you like watching people’s eyes, right?”

“Well, yes,” she answered with surprise. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, not everyone. And when you were with that policeman… Yes, I saw you,” John intercepted her questioning gaze, “Accidentally, I was near-by when you told the policeman about your forgetful granddad. That’s where I got the idea how to present myself. Now, when you were walking with that policeman,” repeated John, “describe to me what you did.”

“I was scared…” began Lara and stopped.

“That is how you felt, you were scared, I understand,” said John, “what did you do after that? When you prepared yourself for the escape, tell me exactly what you were thinking, step by step. What did your mind do? What did your body do? Tell me as if I wanted to learn to escape in the same way.”

“I… got myself in one place… and the policeman was the only thing I was watching, and then I walked exactly like him, and then I escaped. At least, I tried to,” she corrected herself ruefully.

“You ‘got yourself in one place,’ you mean you focused, and then you tricked the policeman into forgetting you,” laughed John. “Well done! But you could not control the crowd in the same way and make it open a passage for you. That’s understandable, it is something even few adult people can do.” He suddenly relaxed and Lara felt the tension subside in her stomach.

“How old are you?” he asked her good-humouredly.

“Eleven,” she said quickly, but then, after a pause, she admitted, “No, I’m nine really.”

“Well, you are young enough.”

“Young enough for what?” she frowned.

“For learning. Listen, I can offer you the chance to learn the art of … stealing… with me,” he smiled again with a wicked but warm smile, “and one day, if you work hard, you can become the best thief in the world. If not, you can always change your mind and go back to the street. Would you like that?”

“Like what? Stealing? Or the street?” she wondered aloud. He waited.

Lara did not particularly enjoy being cold at night on the street, but her friends were there. Learning to steal? Just her? That sounded too good to be true.

“Can you teach me? Are you a thief?” she asked with a cautious tension.

Before answering, John looked away, sighed deeply, but then smiled as if laughing at himself.

“I used to be a thief, and quite a good one,” he answered her reluctantly. “I had learnt how to steal the most precious possession human beings can ever hold. But then I got tired of all that, and I quit. Now I invent stories.”

“But why do you want to teach me? And what do you want in exchange?” asked Lara stubbornly.

“So, you’ve learnt that many things work ‘in exchange’ already. This is my offer: I need someone to help me with my stories.”

“Only that?” she asked in deep disbelief.

“It’s ‘only that’ if you think of ordinary stories. However, my stories twist and turn and are as wild sometimes with me as you were with that policeman. I need someone to walk my stories and explore them; and then, to help me finish their paths. Not many are up to the challenge of some stories.”

“What kind of stories are those?” asked Lara, thoroughly interested now.

John’s gleaming eyes darted around her. Lara felt something like a breeze touch her.

“I can tell you a story,” he replied, “not of the dangerous kind, but only for you to see what your part would be. Would you like that?”

“Here? Now? Well, yes!” she exclaimed.

The day was slowly coming to a close. Twilight was rushing in from the shadows, and the park lied silent. Lara leaned back, waiting for a story.

John began. His voice flickered like the space around them, with dark hues drawn from the hidden recesses of the air.

 

 

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