The Adventures of Soap Boy

Part 2: The Streets of Caracas

I had set out from my home for the very first time since the war reached my city, and the danger was beginning to dawn on me. Even before the bombs had started dropping, I had never set foot outside of my neighborhood without supervision. Yet there I was, two full blocks from the safety of my apartment, without having seen my parents in months. Every few minutes, I passed an impact crater from where a bomb had struck. Several times, I saw terrible sights that I knew children weren't meant to see. The worst of which was the completely obliterated remains of Dr. Vasquez' office. I had hoped to meet up with him before leaving town, but that hope was dashed in an instant. I didn't dare check inside, lest I confirm my worst fears, so I just assumed that he'd managed to escape. Nonetheless, even as a kid, I knew that blowing up a medical clinic wasn't okay. All Dr Vasquez was doing was trying to help people, and they targeted him anyway.

Seeing that innocent people were on the menu, I slipped my knife into the rear loading straps of my backpack. I tested my ability to draw and sheath my knife. It was pretty hard to get it back into the straps, due to how tight I had pulled them, but putting it back wasn't the important part. What mattered was that I could get the knife out quickly and easily. Once satisfied with my ability to draw my weapon, I continued on my journey.

I actually managed to get pretty far without encountering any trouble, so I stopped to see if I could get some food. Crunchy beans were a step up from that morning, but that morning was rock bottom. I would much prefer something better to eat if I could get a hold of it.

After walking past a few stores, I saw that there was very little left. Windows had been broken and stuff had been stolen. It was a war out here. Of course hungry people had gotten there before me. I did take a look inside the empty looking stores anyway, though, and the third one actually had a bag of masarepa on the back of a low shelf. Out of sight for most adults, but just barely in view for me. I didn't have the stuff for arepas, but I would be able to mix it with some water and make a basic cornbread, like the people in the United States did. I had learned about many different ways that different cultures used maize during a school event, and was quite fond of cornbread. If I remembered correctly, it was an extremely simple dish made using some form of masa, an egg, some milk, and some fat to keep it from sticking to the pan. I had even heard that most of those ingredients were optional. Truly the simplest of dinners.

Having decided on what I was having for dinner, I made my way out of the store. That was when I finally encountered some trouble. It seemed some looters had spotted me going in, and were waiting outside to confront me. There were two of them. They were both wearing thick clothes and masks, fully concealing their identities. Though, I could tell that they were both unarmed. Even still, both were adults, and I wasn't confident I could take them even with a knife. My only option seemed to be to abandon my food and start over. The situation seemed hopeless. I was going to have to give up my hard earned food to some filthy, unkempt looters just because they were older than me.

That's when it struck me. I had a bargaining chip they needed. They were filthy, and I had unlimited soap. I was always the kind of kid that could get whatever he wanted from his parents. That is to say, I knew my way around a conversation far better than one would expect of someone my age. With a plan in mind, I walked up to them with as much confidence as I could muster. I needed to seem larger than life. One-hundred percent fully confident in myself. That would be the approach they would expect the absolute least from the small child they were planning to rob, and pulling them out of their comfort zone was the first step of my plan.

They were obviously taken aback by my approaching them. They were probably expecting a chase. In my experience, people were more likely to listen if you caught them off guard first. That completed phase one. Next, I'd let them take the initiative in the conversation. If talking was their idea, they'd be more willing to hear my terms. In general, people hate self-contradiction. I could exploit that to keep them from attacking me, so long as I got them to set that particular flow for the encounter.