Frosty Wind Made Moan

10

10

The boy appeared to have made a diversion to see the console in the heavily guarded shop. As soon as he had fulfilled his longing for the machine, he set off once again, following a maze-like set of streets and alleys, back to the less affluent areas of the city, near to where they had first seen the boy.

Toby wondered why he had made such a journey. It seemed obvious the boy had had to defend himself along the way, and successfully, too, judging by the fact that he still had his little box of money. But, then, Toby knew himself, only reading about these things was never enough. To see the things you wanted, maybe even touch them? That built up anticipation for those things.

But that anticipation could also ruin the entire thing. If, like Toby, the boy never got what he wanted, it could make the boy feel as bitter about not having anything as Toby felt. It wasn't as if Toby hated his parents for not getting him what he wanted. It was more that it made him like them that little bit less. He still loved them, only not quite as much.

If that made him a bad person, then he had to accept that. Just as his Mum and Dad had to accept that they'd disappointed him. Disappointment went both ways. Even as he ran all these things through his mind, Toby realised he hadn't paid attention to the boy, or the streets around them, or the old man.

The old man had stopped, in the middle of the dusty street, staring down at Toby as though he could read Toby's mind. That made Toby's cheeks burn with embarrassment. If the old man could read his mind, he would definitely think Toby selfish now. Of the boy, Toby only caught sight of him rushing into a shabby looking shop that had an array of different kinds of stock.

Toby could see a little of everything, both inside and outside. Sitting on tables, shelves, even the floor. Some things hanging from hooks and in baskets. Food and clothes and utensils, tools and toys and games. And, sat outside, on either side of the shop, Toby saw a pair of older boys. Older and rougher and, as one moved, Toby saw a gun tucked into the back of his jeans.

He felt the old man grip his shoulder, stopping him from running. Long enough for Toby to remember that they couldn't see him, so long as he stayed near the old man and he resolved to stay within arms length for as long as those older boys stayed near.

"Aren't we following him?" He wanted to go into the dire looking, overstuffed shop, searching for signs of the boy. "This all looks well dodgy. Is he up to something wrong, this kid?"

"He's getting something." The old man moved towards one of the tough older boys, peering into his eyes and then left a piece of coal beside him. "But I think it will mean more if you see it later."

The boy ran out of the shop, looking both ways up and down the street. In his hands, he had a brown paper package, wrapped tight and square. He no longer had the Caixinha box with him. Licking his lips, the boy lifted his dirty vest at the back and tucked the package into the waist of his shorts. He gave the two tough looking boys a nod and set off down the street, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"That's drugs. I've seen enough tv shows to know that's drugs." Toby pointed after the boy, feeling rather full of himself. He had never had anything to do with drugs and that made him feel a little superior. "It seems a lot for that little box-worth of money. Was that what he was doing? Getting money for the drugs then taking it back to them?"

"Let's see." The old man stepped forward, pulling Toby along, and the world zipped by as though on fast forward again. "Let's see how right you are. In so many things."

Toby wondered what that could mean. The world stopped flashing past and he could see they had moved forward in time again. It looked quite a bit darker, now, and the way people dressed looked different. Everywhere Toby looked, he could see people dressed as though were heading for a night out. Men dressed in their finest shirts, women in their best dresses.