Even that day, as I watched Sarah and I make shoes, Kirik the escort

"Hey, okay"

And I've been calling.

When Kilik calls, it's about safety.

When I interrupted my work instruction, I nodded and turned to Kilik.

When I look at Kilik, he's got a little kid.

I've been here a lot lately to help with work, my artisan son.

Kilik pushes his back gently and the child advances out.

"Look, just say what you heard."

"Oh, you know, me..."

And I've said something, but the words don't seem to come out well.

Well, you can't help but be nervous to be brought in by a tough guy like Kilik.

What's wrong, I'm thinking, Sarah crouched in, looking at me.

"It's okay, nobody gets angry, so I just need you to keep telling me what you saw?

Speaking of which, he had an attitude that surrounded small children as adults.

Now, you'll be scared and hard to talk to.

Attract a nearby chair so that everyone can sit down and align their gaze as high as possible.

"Look, Toma, why don't you talk to me?

Sarah prompted me gently, and the boy finally spoke out.

"Me, I go to all kinds of craftsmen on the street to pick up rice, ask them if they have any shoes ingredients, any leather washing pills, etc. So, the people in the street generally remembered their faces and names. 'Cause if you don't, you're gonna have trouble delivering stuff."

"Yeah, you're Eli. So?"

and Sarah will put a pair of hands in for you.

You got the power to do that, boy. Talk about it.

"So when I got home from work again this morning, in front of Mr. Barnes at the Leather Street entrance, I was about to bump into some uncles I didn't know. When I was running, I was about to hit my arm. But, you know, I don't know your faces, but those uncles, their hands are so pretty, they're so hectic, I thought. 'Cause he's dressed like an artisan, and he's quite an uncle, but he didn't have any hand nails or color at all, and he didn't have any scratches or anything."

Certainly suspicious, but that alone lacks a basis.

"You never meant a merchant? Or someone with a church connection."

That's what I asked, but the boy shook his neck wide left and right.

"Shit, if you're a merchant, your clothes wear something unspoilt. Because if you don't, they don't think you have any money... And the church takes you every week, so you know what you're wearing."

"Hmm."

Sure, that makes sense.

"Well, that's weird, 'cause I thought to Mr. Barnes, do those people come here often? I heard that. Then you weren't from the company (of ours)? I was put aside..."

To sum up the boy's words, there was at least a pair of guys at the Leather Street entrance store this morning who pretended to be company (of ours) craftsmen.

It's not suspicious.

"Well done. You're in good hands. But it's dangerous, so if you see a suspicious guy, you can never speak up. Tell this scared uncle. Do you understand?"

After paying attention after praise, I did a bag with a few bitches and dried fruit as a formality for reporting.

Then the boy jumped momentum out of the chair and while relaxing he made the clever mane of stretching his spine.

"Oh, thank you!

and replied out loud, so shortly after I heard the information that caused the tension, the surroundings were wrapped in a small laugh.