Beautiful Carmencita and other short stories

The Kid at the Convenience Store

Along the way from my home to my office, there was this convenience store, on a corner of a busy street, surrounded by a number of street vendors and sari-sari stores (sort of like a convenience store but only have few items to sell, with only one window, and usually run only by one individual or one family). I personally prefer to go to the convenience store because the number of things I could buy there is more, including breakfast.

There was where I saw the kid.

He was around eight or nine years old, I think, thin, and wore dirty shabby clothes. The first time he approached me and asked for food or a couple of coins, I ignored him. The second time he did, I ignored him again. When he approached me the third time, I finally half-heartedly told him, "Okay! Pick whatever you like." He flashed a big bright smile and hurriedly went around the stalls, which he probably had memorized by then. He got himself three rice meals, two canned goods, a couple of candies, and before his hands could reach a number of powdered juices I said, "Hey kid, I wouldn't buy the whole store for you."

"You wouldn't?" He asked through his innocent eyes.

"I won't," I replied.

With reluctance, but to my great relief, he put most of what he took back to their stalls until only one box of rice meal was what was left in his tiny dirty hands. Guilt tugged my heart and I found myself reaching to the two boxes of rice meals he disregarded and eventually handed them back to him. His reaction was priceless, as though the meals would keep him full for a year.

Obviously, it did not. I kept on seeing him at the convenience store after that day and ended up sharing breakfast with him every day. I bought him the same amount of rice meal every time. I seriously wondered why he wouldn't gain a pound even though I had been giving him food for quite some time.

One day, I saw the kid inside the convenience store with two smaller kids and three others around his age. I honestly thought of ignoring him that day and exiting the store without him noticing me because I had a feeling about what would happen next. But, it was too late. Our eyes already met. The kids went towards me with so much joy that I swore I knew by then what it felt like being Santa. "Fine, pick whatever you want."

"Yay!" They squealed. The other kids did what the kid had done when I told him the same phrase before. They got a handful of packed meals, canned goods, candies, and all the drinks their little arms could hold. Before I could say a word, it was the kid who told them in my stead, "Stop it. The old man can't afford that much! And he's stingy!"

The other customers inside the convenience store looked at me. I looked back at the children. Darn. Kids. "It's okay," I mumbled through gritted teeth, then pulled money from my wallet. "I told you that you could buy whatever you want."

Goodbye, new shoes.

We exited the store like they've just bought groceries for a week's worth. Me? I settled for biscuits for breakfast. As we walked across the rows of sari-sari stores, the kid was called by a thin sickly woman in her thirties. She was holding with both hands a wide wooden box filled with different candies and cigarettes. "My child, what have you done?" She grabbed her son and faced me with her head bowed down in shame. "I am so sorry. My child has been bothering you and asking you for food for so long. I've told him to stop, but he would always come back home with food." She noticed the other kids holding the stuff I bought for them. Her eyes widened in shock. "Hurry and give that back to the man!" She ordered them.

"No, ma'am, it's okay. I did tell them it was fine," I assured her. It was already bought anyway and I would feel sorry for the kids if I suddenly take the items away from them. The sickly woman hesitated, then paused to think. After a while, she offered the wooden box she was holding to me. "Here, please, take all that you want." I don't smoke. I don't like candies either. "No, there is really no need, ma'am." "Please, I insist." Because I was about to be late for work, I complied and grabbed a handful of candies which I stuffed into my pocket. "Thank you," I told her. "You are so kind," she said solemnly as she led the kids towards a corner across the busy street. The kid waved goodbye at me. I waved back.

The next day was my flight overseas for work. It was almost after a month when I came back to our main office. When I went inside the usual convenience store, the kid was not there anymore. I tried asking the lady at the cashier about him but she did not know him at all. She was a new employee because the man at the cashier who I knew was transferred to another branch. Curiosity led me to walk across the streets and try to find the kid and his family on the streets' corners, but I failed to see them again.

Every now and then, I would still walk around the rows of sari-sari stores and street vendors, trying to find them. I bought and spent some time with the vendors there, but oddly enough, they all did not have any clue about the kid and his family.

"Doesn't it creep you out?" One of my co-workers asked when I told her this story. "Maybe, they're ghosts?"

Ghosts? No, I don't believe so. I realized why the kid won't gain a pound even though I had been giving him food constantly in the mornings. I realized it when we last saw each other. After waving goodbye to me, the family sat on the cold pavement, opened one packed rice meal and shared it to all of them. The other food, they saved for later. The kid was always sharing the food I gave to him.

What a nice kid.