“They are planning something.”
The plot thickened. I was embroiled in an event I had no control of.
I chanced upon the youngest of my godchildren. He was the most notoriously honest child I had encountered in my life that often we wished he would lie sometimes. There was a time he asked a cross-eyed stranger why he looked at him in a funny way. To us adults we would not have pointed the disability in such a harsh manner.
“Do you know what is it?” I asked innocuously so as not to make him nervous. “I can help you.”
“They won’t tell me,” he replied, sounding a bit hurt for being left out in the dark, “I said I won’t say anything to you.”
Aha! That revealed something. In some way, I was indirectly part in the plot, obviously not as a conspirator.
“Do you have an idea what is it? You are a bright boy. I am sure you notice something.”
He thought for sometime, running around for a minute, trying to remember a thing or two from the past.
“They will buy something,” he said finally, running away after the revelation.
“Wait!” I shouted, knowing fully I could not make him turn back. Perhaps, that was the first instant he was coached successfully to lie.
I never thought I would resort to spying, especially against the innocent machinations of a group of children. I was nagged by my curiosity to discover the whole story.
Hours later, another two of them walked the road near my house. But as they saw me came out, they turned around and scampered away. I was sure the youngest related to them my inquiries.
What are they up to?