#cornfox&bros

“Mesmeroth. What are you doing here, and so late?”, he asked surprised.

The boy tread in place for a moment, hesitating to approach. “Err… Mister Corbin, sir, I just came to give you this.”

Mesmeroth then quickly stepped across the room towards Pierre and placed a metal box on the table. It was an older radio model, one of Archimedes’s inventions that had found its way into all households across Arcadia.

Pierre carefully observed the radio and knowing the boy’s passion for malfunctioning robots, he expected it to start moving any second now. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with the boy’s reckless inventions right now.

Mesmeroth seemed to have noticed his suspicious stare and quickly reassured the knight. “It’s not going to do anything, because it’s not a ‘real’ robot but… it’s still my favourite… thing.” He gazed at the radio with a sad smile.

Pierre looked from radio to boy and back in confusion. Why on earth was that kid here? They knew each other to some extent, after all he had to deal with Mesmeroth’s rogue robots on occasion and he also had to drag the kid to school from time to time, as his father left the boy to his own devices most of the time. Yet, despite all of Pierre’s reprimanding and scolding, the boy was here now, standing at his dinner table, as if they were… friends.

“What is it then?”, asked Pierre carefully.

“A radio! But it’s a special one. It was broken and when I repaired it, I made it so that when you hold THIS button it can record a message and then, when you press THIS button, you can listen to it again.”

Mesmeroth became excited telling Pierre about his favourite object but when he was done he became his more timid self again.

“And … what shall I do with it?”, the knight inquired.

“Listen to it, when you’re all alone.”

Pierre moved to ask what’s on there but Mesmeroth continued to talk, gently holding the radio between his two hands.

“I know you cried, I can see it. I cried a lot, too. I missed her a lot, that’s why. Listening to this always made me feel a little better, though. I am a little too old now to still cry, I think, and … I don’t want you to be sad so that’s why I decided that you should have it.”

Pierre leaned heavily on his arm observing the boy as he realised that Mesmeroth, a kid 10 years of age, came to express his sincere condolences. He knew that the boy had lost his mother 3 years ago. Unfortunately, it was the talk of the village back then. The way the boy looked at the radio now, nearly tenderly and longingly told Pierre that he must have loved his mother very much. The fact that this neglected boy from the streets felt inclined to share a means of comfort with him, touched him deeply. A very unexpected gesture, Pierre was stunned that Mesmeroth cared about him.

He felt his throat clench and he swallowed a couple of times to reduce the tension. He didn’t know what to say.

Luck was on his side, as the change of subject came in form of an aggressive growling. Hastily Mesmeroth turned away to hide his hunger but it was too late.

Pierre raised his eye-brows and smiled gently. “Are you hungry?”

“Hmmm.” Mesmeroth didn’t seem to want to admit it. Again he moved about a bit.

“Have you not yet eaten at home?”

The boy’s gaze fell onto the food laid out on the table. “Err… well, there wasn’t anything left for me today”, he admitted embarrassed. Then he hastily continued. “Why haven’t you eaten yet? Don’t you like it?”, he asked.

Pierre’s question was stifled in his throat as he rushed to answer Mesmeroth’s questions. But his mind wondered, why was there no dinner left for the boy?

“Oh, I- haven’t felt like eating, I’m afraid.”

“And will you feel like eating it soon? Who will eat this if not?” With open, curious eyes Mesmeroth had turned back towards the knight.

“Maybe you would be interested in having a bite?” Pierre offered warmly as he gestured towards the chair on the other side.

“Oh yes, I do! I can tell you if it’s any good, too!”

“Yes, please do.”

Without another second lost, Mesmeroth took a seat and watched intently as Pierre took the serving spoon in his hand to give the boy a small serving.

“I’m afraid it’s cold already, but it should still taste just as good.”

Eagerly Mesmeroth put a full spoon into his mouth. He had not yet swallowed when he exclaimed “Shit, that’s really tasty!”

“No swear words at this table”, Pierre responded sternly. Mesmeroth quickly looked over and then, without stopping to munch simply replied “Okay, sorry, sir”.

“Why haven’t you eaten this, it’s so good!”, he continued.

“Is it really, eh? I guess I should try myself then.”

Pierre was still not exactly hungry but at least he wasn’t alone. He finally helped himself to a small portion and hesitantly took a spoonful himself. He had lost his thoughts, his feelings and his taste in the last couple of days. Yet, somehow in this strange boys presence, who was rather excited to have such a basic meal, taking in nourishment became actually bearable.

Until now Pierre hadn’t thought much of this peculiar young man. But now that Mesmeroth had… approached him on such personal level, he felt curious about him. Pierre pondered for a bit. Mesmeroth came from a poor family and his living conditions weren’t exactly the best. Unfortunately, the boy’s interest in magic and machines rubbed the villagers the wrong way and it caused minor annoyances at best but had also incited a tragic incident in which even the valuable life of a human was lost. Pierre was certain the boy didn’t act out of malice… but without guidance, he feared for the boys future. Why couldn’t his father care for him properly? Where there no friends Mesmeroth could connect and play with? Why do even children have to suffer already from the world’s trials and tribulations?

Pierre’s somewhat miserable thoughts were interrupted and uplifted by more of Mesmeroth’s fantastical praises for the food. Amidst this sorrowful time they managed to amuse Pierre and he felt glad that he had cooked after all. Mesmeroth had a big appetite and Pierre’s efforts were handsomely rewarded.

They were nearly done when Pierre decided to ask. “What do you mean, there was no food left for you today? How so?”

Mesmeroth looked up at first, then evaded Pierre’s gaze.

“I don’t really have dinners at home. Sometimes I get to have dad’s leftovers, though!”

Pierre was a little stunned by that answer, but couldn’t say he was actually surprised. It’s just not what he would have liked to hear.

“Your father is not cooking for you?”

Mesmeroth thought for a bit. “I think he did but… not anymore. I am not really allowed inside the house either. Not that I want to go there anyway, it smells.”

The boy proceeded to lick the final remnants of the dish from the cutlery. Pierre shook his head in disbelief. “Goodness Gracious. But you do get lunch at school, right?”

“Yeah. It’s not as awesome as THIS, though. Other kids often leave like half their meal so I wait till they’re gone and eat that, too! Then I am late for class but that’s okay, it’s mostly boring stuff anyway. Oh, and I do get snacks for sharing my homework!”

Pierre had never chatted to Mesmeroth so casually and he was very pleasantly surprised, despite the heavy topic, that the boy answered so frankly. “I am glad to hear that. It may not be an ideal situation but you sure know how to help yourself.”

“Hm, yeah, I suppose…” Mesmeroth sighed a little. “I’ll be fine and… I am sorry for… for making you work so hard.”

Pierre sighed as well and nodded in gratitude. “I know that you are. I know.”

Then, Mesmeroth picked up his plate and stood up. He questioningly stared at the plate and gazed over at the door to the kitchen. Pierre extended a hand and gestured him to place the plate back down.

“You don’t have to worry about that for today. I will clean it all”, responded Pierre warmly. The boy had enough to sort out and Pierre had to clean the rest anyway. Albeit he’d probably do it tomorrow.

“Oh, really? But what if I would like to have food again?”

Pierre understood the boy’s desire to eat again but what did that have to do with the dishes?

“How do you mean?”, he asked.

“I mean, what if come ever again and then, at that time you happen to have made food that you don’t feel like eating, then I would like to be allowed to eat it for you.”

Pierre looked at the boy in amused astonishment. “How nicely put. Well, let me reassure you, that if you ever came by again and I happen to have just made dinner then you are very certainly allowed to have a share.”

Mesmeroth grinned widely at him and put the plate back down. “Oh, okay. Thanks, Mr. Corbin.”

“Hmhm”. Pierre sighed and smiled at his guest, who now walked back around the table to look at the radio again. He even reached out to turn it around a little and brush over the corner with which it hit the floor earlier. Mesmeroth murmured something Pierre didn’t understand and just as he began to ask about it the young man turned to him abruptly.

“Be good, okay?”

“O-Of course, Knight’s honour!”, Pierre replied surprised, once again. Wasn’t that something he should have requested of Mesmeroth instead?

Mesmeroth showed his teeth in a large grin. “And you should eat your food, it’s super great! See you, Mr. Corbin!”

Then he sprang around and dashed towards the hallway. Pierre half-way rose from his seat as he shouted after the boy, but he was already out of sight.

“Be careful on your way home!”

“Ye-hes! Bye!”, came the answer from somewhere around the front door. And then, there was silence again.

What was going on in the boy’s head, thought Pierre. He was perplexed, but very pleasantly so. Children could be so demanding it distracts from anything else and they also manage to bring down any possible defence in seconds.

He had wanted to be alone but still, he was glad the boy had come. He had finally eaten and maybe, it dawned on him, he had allowed this boy in difficult circumstances to have a proper meal, also.

Pierre’s eyes now fixated on the radio. He was curious to find out what was recorded on there and he extended his arm to reach the button. His finger rested on there for a moment. He leaned forward and rested his chin on the other arm, then pressed the button down.

The radio first emitted a few cracks and noises of it being moved around. Two voices were audible, that of Mesmeroth and that of a woman. “Okay, I am holding it down, see? Now you can sing. Closer, right there…”

Mesmeroth gave instructions, presumably to his mother, who then sang a common but beautiful lullaby for her son. The recording ended with another short conversation between the two.

Pierre hid his face in the fabric of his sleeve and pressed the button again. He was listening to his own, lost dream: a mother singing a lullaby to her beloved child. His eyes teared up and his throat clenched. In his thoughts, his wife was walking up and down the bedroom, rocking their baby, singing this lullaby. Then the same kid came climbing into their bed at night and again, his wife sang a lullaby. More and more scenarios flooded his mind and Pierre cried for all the lost moments he had hoped to experience in the future.

When the worst was over, and his body had calmed down a bit, Pierre allowed Mesmeroth to enter his mind again. The radio was a precious item to the boy. For an instance Pierre wanted to return it but then he reminded himself of something he had learned becoming a knight: Presents are not to be made OR accepted lightly. The boy didn’t bring this important keepsake lightly. And so, Pierre would honour the gift and keep it.

In fact, there was something else he wanted to do. Tomorrow evening, he would cook again, and even though he was alone, he would cook for two. Yes, his wife wasn’t there anymore to dine with him but… a certain troubled boy might just be hungry enough.

THE END.

(or is it a beginning?)