21

Darkness looms in the gloomy horizon as I sit by thaay, the strength of the light and spits out the venomous spate of grief and agony. I hear hushed moans of yearning for the safety of the sun from the people who had come to watch the last battle for the day, the sun against the imminent victory of the night.

Crouched between the stones aged by the weight of moss and the acrid water, the city's breeze tickles my nose.

"Thirteen...fourteen...fifteen..."Those familiar words roused me from a minute's snooze. He had already begun his nightly ritual. "You seem not to tire of it." I said to the boy who snugly sat beside me. "I haven't counted them all yet." He said in a less interested way. I trief to muff my laughter but the sound was alreadt obvious to him. He continued his hobby while turning his back on me.

"Sixteen...seventeen..eighteen...nineteen...twenty." I already knew he was through with his play. "So, there were only twenty tars tonight?" I said sarcastically. "No." came the mechanical remark. "There are more than twenty, there are millions out there, mymother told me so." He said.

This would have been the end of our repetitious nightly conversation, being irritated I chose to say something more. "Why then did you stop?" I retorted. "I can only count up to twenty you know, my mother died before she could teach me the next number." The boy said in a sad way. I was taken aback by his frankness. I had been sitting with this boy for the past ten sunsets on the aged breakwater, all I knew before was he enjoyed counting stats, just that. Guilt laden, I tried to make up for my rude attitude by being kinder. "Why are you here every night, don't you have a family or someone to take care of you?" He kept silent for a while. "Hey! Are you mad at me?" I said with further guilt. "No, I am used to being laughed at by people when I count stars, about a family, my mother was my only family." He looked up and pretended to countr his stars again just as he did this a tear rolled down his cheek, which he quickly wiped with his shirt. I wanted to say something but my tongue got numb at the sight of the little boy.

"Bit you tongue, Mister?" The boy asked. I could not answer him for a couple of minutes. "You seem to enjoy yourself when you count stars here in the breakwater." I heard myself mutter. The boy spoke in a sadder tone, "They're the only one's I've got and I have no other place to go to." I knew then that I had been a trespasser of his home starting the night I comfortably took a big portion of his spot. "Don't you have a family of your own?" The boy asked me eagerly. I felt awkward and refused to answer. "Hey! Are you mad at me?" The boy kept chuckling. I felt my lips grin at his action, my first smile in a week's time.

"I have no use for one." I lied. "I wish you have one because it really feels good to have people who care for you." I heard him say this as he got closer to my side. "When my mother was alive we were a happy family, just the two of us." He added, as he threw a stone at the calm ocean.

"Why do count stars?"I asked him, trying to think of a better way to change the subject about families. He replied, "Because they're beautiful." He pointed at a star with the most lustrous ray, "That star is my mother!" He said happily. "How did you know?" I said puzzled. "Because my heart says so." He answered in utmost certainty. "Why count the others then?" I said in further puzzlement. He sighed, "For them not to be lonely." I looked at the sky and told him, "How can they be lonely? There are a million of them out there!" The boy earnestly looked at my face and studied it carefully. He stood up, took a heavy breath and said, "Stars do not know each other, a star can only see the light of another. The distance between them is too great to let their lights warm each other's loneliness."

"Do you think you can make all of them happy? You cannot count all of them you know." I said truthfully. He replied, "I may only know how to count until twenty, but each night I look at the sky and try to count all of the stars, my heart has counted them a million times." His faced beamed with satisfaction.

The boy sat down and pulled his shirt over his legs to coverhimself from the cold. His eyes began to close as the ocean stirred from its slumber. The sea breeze blew against his youthful skin, making him shiver. I took off my worn out coat and covered his frail body, rubbing his back to make him feel a little warmer.

I slowly looked at the night sky again and heard myself count, "Twenty-one..."