The Boy and The Man, Offer R [ereader for textbooks .txt] 📗

his journey was to absorb the adulation of the people and be pointed out to children as an exemplary soldier and an epitome of virtue. He would sometimes spend entire afternoons basking in the admiration of people twice or thrice his age, some so wealthy that they could buy the entire Guard. In fact he never had any business to arrange, there or elsewhere, and it just so happened that his pretense eventually became his heart's desire.

'A Lieutenant in the King's Guard shouldn't have all his stakes piled on the blade of his sword', he thought, and he decided to start doing business. 'My outstanding reputation should be of use to me almost to the same extent as it is in deterring my enemies on the battlefield. Being the son of a carpenter and later a resident of the royal palace, he'd had no interaction whatsoever with the world of business. But he knew all he needed to know: you must use the money you have to make even more money. And so the only obstacle that stood between him and success was that he had virtually no money. You see, in the palace he was provided his every need but had no possessions of his own. As for his service in the King's Guard, it was a well-known fact that the members of the Guard received their compensation mainly in the form of honor. They were housed, fed and clothed by the King, but their monetary income was quite scant. To make things worse for The Boy, the rate of the income was based on seniority rather than rank. And so underneath all the glamour, luxury and popularity, our boy was very poor in terms of his materialistic wealth.

So what our boy needed was money, and since as we've already seen he excelled at seizing opportunities, what he really needed at the moment was a mere opportunity to earn money. In order to get an opportunity, especially a golden opportunity like he was hoping for, he was in need of a stroke of luck. There were two ways he could meet a stroke of luck: he could go and search for one, and since there is always luck hiding somewhere, with enough persistence he should eventually find one. And there was the quicker way, which consisted of wooing the auspices of the Gods and having them send a stroke of luck his way.

The latter being the more efficient and easily accessible way of the two, he didn't hesitate much before opting for it. Since he was still indebted to the Gods and knew it was useless to ask for their assistance before clearing his debt, his first move on the way to wealth was to repent. For those of us lacking the sharp, solid memory of the young let's recall briefly the roots of The Boy's debt.

On the morning of the momentous encounter with the Capitals, while our frightened boy was waiting for the results of his outrageous attempt to save his skin, he'd asked the Gods to intervene on his behalf. He'd asked for a miracle that would allow him to keep hiding behind his lies, on the condition that he would never lie again. The miracle was granted (it was rather silly, he felt, to believe that the whole thing would've worked without divine aid), and yet he hadn't waited for the sun to set before lying to Aphrodite and later to the prince.

'Those were necessary lies', he thought, 'that adjusted the unfair truth so that it became more realistic. But even so, technically speaking I violated my oath and must therefore repent.' And there was no better form of showing repentance that praying at church, and in extreme cases confessing one's sins.

You may've already noticed that our boy wasn't a regular practitioner of religion, but he never renounced his faith in God. And he was especially devout when he required a particular favor or blessing. Being a very reasonable young man, he realized that for his current enterprise to bear fruit a special measure of kindness from above would go a long way, so he resolved to be unusually reverent. He was convinced that this was the best first step he could make on his short path to wealth.

He attended the church with his most humble attire and with a servile heart. It was an ordinary day at a time when the sun was still gaining strength in the sky, so the pews were almost empty. Churches are normally very lavish, but this one was old and simple, reminding the people that pain and glitter didn't mean stronger divine presence. There was another, far more opulent church not far from the palace, but The Boy feared some aristocratic acquaintances might see him there and become too curious of his intentions. In accordance with the ways of our world, the simple church was frequented mostly by simple people, and very few simple people had any personal relationship with The Boy. This didn't mean that they wouldn't recognize his face, as even the birds in the woods and horses in the stables were familiar with his far-famed features, but at least their deference to him would avoid any unwelcome nosiness.

When he entered the silence in the closed space was so deep that even his light steps on the paved floor echoed like thunders. There were five people in total inside, and they all turned to investigate the source of the unexpected noise. The Boy didn't return their gazes, and luckily in the soft candle light and limited sunshine filtering through the windows nobody seemed to recognize him. There was an old couple seated in the very front pew, and three other prayers seated in the first few pews, separated by long stretches of wood from one another.

'Good', thought our boy. 'They like their privacy, so they should respect my privacy as well.' Of course this was a rather faulty deduction, as the well-known rule that states 'Do to others what you want them to do to you' is golden rule, and like all golden rules is very difficult to abide by. But let's not forget that The Boy wasn't looking to commit a crime but to repent, and therefore there was no need to place too much suspicion in others.

So The Boy took his seat in one of the back pews, clasped his hands together and leaned against the back of the pew in front. He wasn't very fond of praying, and he was as averse as anyone to admitting his past wrongdoings, but once he reflected on his goal his reluctance vanished and his heart and soul rallied for the task. He prayed in a rasp, not silently as many people like to do since he thought it showed God he was more serious. An outspoken contract is always more valid than an implicit one, and why should there be any exception in the case of a contract with God?

"Dear God", he whispered into his clasped hands. "I have come here to- well, you know why I'm here. And we both know what I need to make amends for, so there is no need for me to repeat it."

A man with a tattered jacket and a scraggly beard sitting a few rows ahead of him turned his head halfway and snuck a glimpse at him. The rest of the prayers also took more interest in him than he would've liked, so he lowered his whisper to an undertone that even God should've had trouble making out.

"My regret for my sins is deep and authentic, as I'm sure you can tell. I give you my solemn word that I will keep regretting them after today and will refrain from repeating them. What I ask of you in exchange is meant for a good cause, so you have double the reason to oblige me! I've been a poor boy my entire life while others have bathed in golden water, and yet I have never uttered a word of complaint. I'm your humble servant, and all I ask is that justice be distributed between everyone. I will do with the money I gain the same kind of good that I've done with my sword, and so my wealth will be enjoyed by many. I'm not asking for much, and don't ask it for free. I pray you will bless me with your consent."

Many people have some misguided notion that they are obliged to remain at a church for a certain minimum amount of time. But once the purpose of the visit has been served, one's time is better spent elsewhere. God doesn't become lonely without the company of his prayers.

Before he stood and left, The Boy wondered whether it was misguided of him to have asked something in return for his prayers.

'Who am I to make conditions? I'm only a Lieutenant, yet He is the creator of all things!' he thought. But then he looked around him and realized, without knowing a thing about the other prayers, that they were all expecting something in exchange for their devoutness. Whatever they were praying for- that was the reward they were hoping for.

'Coming to church is just like doing business', he thought. 'And it's the best kind of business, because God never cheats.'

His doubts allayed and his mission complete, our faithful boy made for the door when something caught the corner of his eye that he hadn't noticed before. At the back of the church's main hall, just behind the last left pew, there was a remission in the wall that led to a small room that housed the Confessional. This, he knew, was the small enclosed booth where sinners (or in other words people) came to confess their sins to the priest. It wasn't surprising to find the Confessional empty at this time of day, but it was indeed surprising to see an object that seemed to be of value lying ownerless on the floor. The Boy's curious nature led him without indecision to the displaced object, which turned out to be a purse.

'Someone must've dropped it during a confession. Then, their minds lightened by the gift of absolution, they didn't notice its absence as they left.' The purse was small but heavy with the weight of certain clanking metal objects inside. It was made of a white fabric and had a black seal at the top, and it took some effort to be opened but yielded without breaking or tearing. It may seem like an uncivil act for The Boy to force open a purse that didn't belong to him and therefore must've belonged to someone else, but remember that there was nobody around and it was the only way to discover the identity of its owner.

But our boy discovered something far more valuable than the identity of the purse's owner: pure gold. Yes, the purse was filled with gold coins, which he could tell were authentic from their weight and smooth texture.

What were the odds of someone having lost such a valuable possession in a public place? And in a church! There was no conceivable explanation for it but one.

'Eureca! It seems God has already decided to complete His part of our deal', thought our animated boy. Now, you mustn't see in him an unreasonable dreamer, as he didn't believe God had simply conjured up a purse filled with gold coins for him to take. All he believed was that God had coaxed the owner of the purse to attend a confession that morning.

'The owner of such a valuable possession was surely reluctant to leave the purse unattended, so they took it along. Then God, perhaps through the priest, had made sure that the experience of the confession would be so emotional for the owner of the purse that they would drop their guard leave it behind.' This is how he traced the turn of events in his mind, and it led him to the conclusion that he would