I have been standing here since the sun came up. My feet inside my boots start feeling numb. I have to sit down. I sit down. It is easy to take off my boots. These boots I got from my dead brother are one size bigger than they should be. I look at my pink heel of my right foot. It is not as bad as the left one. A tiny ore hides inside the boot. The skin is broken. Something gooey oozes out. What can I expect? I walked fifty miles to come here.

I am not sure if this is the right house. I couldn’t have missed it. I only see this house within twenty miles. No one answers the door. The lamp above the front door is on. Someone must live here. I have tried a few knocks. No answers.

I have to wait here. The letter sent by Madame Lawyer instructs me to come here exactly ten days after my brother’s death. That’s all the letter says. There is no further explanation of why I have to be here and what I should do here.

The house is right off the dirt road. The wooden roof looks so leaky that I can almost see each sun ray penetrating it through. The door is made of wood in lighter color, maybe birch. There is a rusty metal knocker on it, at a concave point about six feet from the ground. By the thick, heavy sound as I knock on the door, I can tell it is rather solid, not like the shattered roof. The spot I sit down now is near the left side of the house. There is only one window on this side. It is above my height. Even though the glass on the window is all broken, no way can I peep inside.

Luckily I am able to find a shade under a fig tree. I am tired. My stomach is drunk with hunger. I’ve only had a few crackers that I found next to the payphone on the way here. I didn’t know my growling stomach can be louder than my fart. I find a piece of dry hay in my right pocket. I put it in my mouth. I am trying to fool my stomach with this chewing offering.

Perhaps it’s because of enough saliva down the throat into the stomach, my stomach stops growling. But I hear something else. It seems it is louder than normal breeze rustling the leaves. I look up the tree. I startle. I see a little guy crawling on the branch.
“What are you doing there?” I ask.
“I am hungry.” He replies.
“You should come down and rest. There is enough shade for both of us here.”
“You are an idiot!I am looking for food. When you are hungry, you want to eat, not just sit there.” He doesn’t show much appreciation for my generosity.
“Is there any food on the tree? Perhaps you can kindly find me some as well?” I request embarrassedly.
“No, I am trying to jump through the window from here to find some food in there.” He solves the mystery.
“Oh. If you see someone in there, could you ask him to open the door?” He rolls his eyes and ignores me. The next second he has already jumped into the house. I hope he has heard me.

It is getting warmer. I take off my jacket.

There are two little black spots far away down the road. They are approaching on my direction. When they are close enough, I see a boy leading a man with a stick. Both of them dress in rag. The boy doesn’t even wear a top. I ask the man where they are going. Instead of the man, the boy answers me mischievously: “We are going to the place where Papa can see.”
“You mean you are going to a doctor?” I ask with pity.
“What is a doctor?” The boy asks back.
“A doctor enables your Papa to see.” I reply with diffidence.
“Papa can see. We are going to the place where he can see.” The boy insists.
I am confused. I give the boy my jacket. It seems they still have a long way to go.

This is not a busy road. But guess what? A peddler comes by. He has figs in his cart. I am not sure if he comes here to fetch the fruit off the tree or he is actually on his way selling his figs. He pulls his cart aside and sits down next to me.
“Oy, there is not even a single fig on this tree. What a useless tree!” He seems more like talking to the tree than talking to me.
“It would be very nice if there is any fig on the tree. I can have some and I don’t have to stay hungry.”
“However, even though there is no fruit, I can still enjoy its shade. It is not really useless.” My argument sounds as weak as my voice.
He looks at me. Without too much hesitation, he reaches some figs in his cart and hands them to me.
“If you like figs, you can have some here.”
Perhaps he is too disappointed of the barren to stay. He flaps the dirt on his bottom and leaves. I am busy eating the figs. He has gone far before I remember to thank him.

I didn’t know dogs like figs. This grey-eye cur with broken tail is licking the seeds I left carelessly on the ground. He soon lowers his belly to rest. I am happy to have company.

It’s not really polite to let someone wait for such a long time. I grow impatient and start pacing back and forth. I must have bad influence on the dog. He starts barking at the distance.

I smell her before I can see her face. Too much chemical in this rose fragrance. She greets me. I recognize her voice. I was talking to her on the phone. The bar owner tapped on my shoulder when I was resting outside of the bar. “You’ve got a phone call.” He informed me. “Who would have phoned me?” “Only my sister-in-law knows I am on the way to the house.” I have questions in my head. “Hello?” I greet suspiciously. “Hello, my dear. I am going to meet you there.” “Hello? Hello? Who are you?” The phone was hung up. She sounded like a lover who doesn’t have to identify herself. Now here she is.

She doesn’t say a word. She opens the door with a key, and calls me to come in.