Noticing the Boy.

A young man of about twenty walked past me in Ashbourne yesterday. He was around medium height, but thin as a bean pole. That and his pale features, fine blond hair, delicate walk, and apparent lack of even the lightest beard growth gave the impression of something unnaturally insubstantial. I imagined a slight gust of wind would carry him off and deposit him somewhere on the lea side of the nearest hill.

As he walked past me he smiled and nodded in a way which I thought oddly benevolent. I’m sure I must have returned his smile and nod with a different inclination of my own head and a quizzical frown. And then I saw that he had a large black patch on his cheek. If it was a keratosis, it was a very big one. Beyond that possibility I couldn’t guess.

And as he walked beyond me I saw that he was carrying something black in one hand. It looked like a book. I thought it was probably a Bible. The suspicion that he was an X-file subsided and I assumed he was probably a Jehovah’s Witness missionary. (They’re not the same thing, are they? I know the Mormon missionaries are redolent of an X-File, but this lad looked anything but well-fed and American. And his oddly benevolent smile looked real.)