Words From Mystery
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The old man looked at the young boy who sat before him, and he felt an odd twinge of pity. The child had been born to a family that was as poor as any he knew in his long life, yet his mind still shone with possibilities.
This lad seemed to have no understanding of how much the world hated him—that it would take all that he could do just to survive the next day, let alone plan for tomorrow or beyond that. He saw himself only as another mouth to feed among many others in his family, not even aware that there were people far worse off than his own.
In truth, this boy did not understand the meaning of “impoverishment.”
But perhaps this ignorance worked both ways; maybe if he were wiser than he was now he might understand more about the world around him. Perhaps then he could see things more clearly than those who were less ignorant. He had heard from some that a person’s character revealed itself over time.
If so, then his own character showed signs of promise for better days ahead. But what of the young girl seated beside him? She had a strange aura about her that frightened him. It hinted that she had a knowledge greater than anyone else, except the young master whose face lit up with delight whenever they spoke together.
There was a darkness within her, one that made him feel uneasy. And yet despite her dark demeanor, she seemed oddly familiar somehow…
“I can’t imagine that I have any influence on you,” she said as she watched the old man closely. “Yet you keep coming back every few weeks to tell me the same thing again and again.”
He looked at her steadily but said nothing. After several moments she continued, “Perhaps this is my chance to learn something new, even if only by asking you questions. What do you know of me?”
The young boy shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing special. You’re a student. That’s all I need to know.”
“Oh really? Then why are you always here?”
She frowned slightly, as though she had asked too much. As if sensing that, the old man nodded silently in agreement. “It seems that your presence has become part of my routine. When I come into town after a while, I look forward to seeing you and listening to whatever it is that troubles you.”
She smiled gently at the thought. “You seem to care little for the other students in class, which makes me wonder why you speak to me at all.”
As he considered that question the young boy shook his head. “That isn’t true,” he whispered. “I do think of you, but perhaps not the way that you want me to. At least not as friends. But sometimes you give me the feeling that you know me better than almost anyone else does—that you even know my thoughts.”
The young woman smiled at this. “Then perhaps I’m not telling you something important. Is that possible?”
“Maybe. Why don’t you ask me what I think when I come here? Maybe you’ll hear something interesting enough to make you think otherwise. And even if it doesn’t, that won’t change anything between us.” He paused and looked away, then turned his eyes back toward her. “And speaking of unbelievable, what is it that troubles you most about your studies these days?”
“I’m afraid that you aren’t going to like what I say. But the truth must be told regardless.” She sighed and shook her head. “There are many things that trouble me about school these days. Most of them center on this place. I’ve learned a great deal since coming here, and yet the more I learn about the outside world, the more I realize how little I understand.
I can read and write as well as any, yet my vocabulary seems limited to simple words like “good” or “bad.” The language that we use in class seems dull compared to the stories that I read in books or hear around town. My fellow students don’t share my interests. They talk about trivial things without even realizing that I might find them uninteresting.”
With a sad look on his face, he nodded. “Many of the boys and girls in my classes seem to think the same way—at least those who have no interest in books.” He sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair.
“Sometimes I wish that I were older so that I might leave school behind and try my hand at a trade or profession. There are too many of my fellow students who seem to have found their calling already, while I feel that I am still searching for mine.”
His companion frowned slightly and said softly, “But I suspect you will find what you seek soon enough. You seem to be very interested in certain topics. I wonder what kind of career could possibly inspire someone like yourself to work so hard?”
He hesitated before answering her. “Perhaps you’re right. Sometimes when I’m out working with others in the field, I feel that I have a better grasp of the land and its resources than most of the students do.
Even though I’m younger than most of them, there are times when I feel that I have a greater understanding than some of my teachers, and even more so than some of the other workers.” He paused for several moments, then added sadly, “It frightens me to think that one day I may end up working for another who is much wiser and knows far more than I ever will.”
She stared at him, surprised by his admission. “I see. Perhaps you know more about me now than I did just a moment ago.” She smiled, hoping that somehow it would put him at ease. It was rare to meet an honest person. “Do you have family or any friends from home that you wish to visit?”
He nodded silently as he considered the question. “Not particularly. In fact, I haven’t spoken to them since I came here.”
This news stunned her somewhat. “You haven’t seen your parents since you left home? Or even your sister?”
The boy shook his head silently. “No. We didn’t get along well enough to spend time together after we grew older. Now they live too far away for me to make the journey easier.”
She nodded knowingly, and as the silence deepened she wondered whether or not that meant he wanted to speak openly. After several seconds she spoke again, as calmly as possible. “What is it that troubles you most about leaving school for good?”
He shrugged and shook his head slowly. “My greatest worry is that I won’t have the chance to tell my father about the things I learned in school. I don’t mean only my studies, but everything that goes into becoming a skilled worker in this town.” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs.
“For instance, there are so many things that I know now that I wish that I had known years ago—things that will help me to become a better craftsman in my chosen field. There’s so much information to absorb that my mind feels full, yet I feel as though I have barely begun to scratch the surface of what lies within the walls of this building. That’s why I often feel as though I’m being pushed aside and replaced by those younger and less experienced.” He sighed and shook his head.
“I fear that one day I’ll be too old to start anew in another place. I want to make myself useful somewhere and continue learning new things, even though I may have lost a few of my skills along the way. Yet I don’t see how I can possibly stay if this is where my life ends.”
A smile crossed the girl’s lips as she realized how easy it would be to console him. He seemed to need reassurance that all would go well for him, and his fears were reasonable ones. She knew that he was right, and she had seen plenty of others who had suffered similar fates over the years. But he was different because of the depth of his knowledge and his ability to apply it effectively.
The End