When my little Ise turned six, I bought a bicycle. You might think she was excited to win, but her reaction was totally opposite. She even went very far when I broached the subject. Then, I realized that my girl was afraid of falling... I managed to convince her when I put training wheels...

However, I was sad to see her having fun without my company...

** Texas - 2004 **

That beautiful day invited her to step out from behind those walls and enjoy the pleasant beauty of nature. It was what she most wanted; run and feel the air of freedom on her face, and the sweet scent of the sunny morning, for once. However, Jack kept a watchful eye on her, like a guard dog, despite the intense boredom stamped on her face.

At some point he would "lower his guard" but he would surely let someone lurking, and that was Mr. Donald, who was paid for his work. However, Mr Donald was easily distracted; here is an opportunity to breathe new air.

The bar wasn't busy that morning, certainly sitting at the last table enjoying the frozen view and the smell of old wood was not a good way to spend the day. Overcome by boredom, Jack stood up, rubbing his eyes with his wrist, and opening his mouth in a tired yawn.

The girl straightened the towels on the table, surreptitiously followed Jack with her gaze to get up and go into the hallway.

After a few seconds, he returned with the same tired expression, and headed for the door of the establishment.

Donald came in shortly thereafter, taking a seat on one of the stools near the counter. He was distracted, entertained with some papers. But every five minutes he looked up over them, watching the girl's steps.

- Mr Donald... Can I take out the trash? - He asked

- No, but do you know how to do math? - He asked still distracted.

- I'm sorry, I don't know… – Clara approached the counter – But the bathroom trash is full, and the kitchen trash too. Will you take it off?

He stopped thoughtfully, his spacious fingers twirling the pen in the air:

-You can take it off, it's part of your job – he concluded proudly – ​​But your father is across the street, if you do anything, he made it clear that he will punish severely...

- I know, don't worry - Clara said, tired of hearing another threat.

- So go ahead, but we're keeping an eye on you...

Clara removed the trash and headed for the main door.

As she left the establishment, she breathed in the delicious fresh air, feeling it touch her skin and loosen the strands of her hair.

In these moments we appreciate how much we miss simple things, as we are used to the stressful routine, living in an automatic mode. We forget about the sun that rises every morning, even when there are thick clouds; the air we breathe and feel; from the blue sky like that morning full of beauty...

Down the defragmented sidewalk she walked, and turned into the alley beside the bar. She opened the metal bins, and the unpleasant smell rose. She left the black bags inside, finally capped them.

Sliding her hands together, she brushed away the residue of dust, feeling the scarred cut bother for a brief moment.

She walked back to the sidewalk, but looking up, for a few more seconds, she admired the beautiful couple from the night before; this time they were holding the hands of a little girl who was jumping absently, playing with the lines of the sidewalk and following her parents' smiles. It was seconds, but they made it infinite.

- Hey Girl!!!

She turned to meet the same grey-bearded man, his gaze creased by tight brows, there was hatred in his voice and eyes. - You're to blame...

Clara took a step back, deciding to ignore him, but it wasn't enough, as he caught her arm, and her hands brought the strength of a lion, pushing her, until her back felt the hardness and cold of the wall of bricks.

- You made me lose more than seventy dollars...

- I don't know what you're talking about - Clara showed the little courage through her gaze as she stared into his eyes.

- Don't make me lose my temper girl, if I won't tell everyone that Drake is your father, or am I wrong?

-If you don't let go of me now, I will...- Clara tried to free her arm uselessly from the man's hands.

- You robbed me!!! -He shouted furiously-Two options; either pay me, or I'll have to charge otherwise.” He held up a heavy hand while the other tightened his grip on her arm.

-Let go of me... -Fear started to pulse inside her and her legs tremble...

This was not the time for him to show up, he needed to be strong to scream and call for help. She looked across the street, but Jack wasn't there. Just now... He wasn't...

- Your daddy isn't coming to help you...

She couldn't deny it, fear and loneliness coursed through every member of her, until she froze.

- Let her go!!!

The two were startled by the boy's sudden voice coming towards them in quick steps.

"Let her go, please," he said, slowly raising his hands in a sign of peace.

- Keep yours, boy - replied the man, spitting out the words like burning embers.

- Whatever it is, we can resolve it peacefully - he said, stopping next to them, but directing the words to the man.

He let out a frightening laugh:

- You happen to have a hundred dollars, because this girl and her crook father owe me...

- Yes - replied the young man reaching into his jeans pocket.

- What are you doing? she asked in surprise.

He withdrew some bills from his wallet and offered them to the man, who took it without hesitation, letting go of Clara's arm.

- All right? - Said the boy adjusting his wallet inside his jacket.

With the money in hand, the man came out laughing.

- Are you okay? he asked this time directing the words to Clara.

- What did you do? – Despite sounding like a question, his tone flowed indignantly – He took more than he should have.

The boy rested his hands in the pocket of his jeans, his eyes strayed towards the street:

- The important thing is that you're fine...

"I didn't need your help." She went coldly beside him.

- Perhaps...

He accompanied her, and the two entered the establishment.

Clara went behind the counter, and gave him a defiant look as he took a seat in front of her, which by the way, the manager was not there.

- How's the arm?

-What are you going to drink?-She ​​asked sharply

- Well, - He looked around - Water, please...

She raised an eyebrow:

- You go into a bar and ask for water?

"Yes, that colorless liquid that comes out of the faucet…" she said, moving her lips in a smile.

"I know what water is," she replied, taking one of the glasses from the bar.

- Could you tell me where I can find a mechanic around here? He picked up the poured glass of liquid and brought it to his lips.

"No, I'm sorry..." The words were as rigid as the look in his direction.

Clara, moistened her hand, and took the reddish butch in her arm.

-I have something better- she commented opening her bluish black jacket-Your arm, please...

- What? -she said-Why?

He withdrew a small ampoule.

- I promise I won't rip it off.

Clara reached across the counter, and he noticed the scarred cut on the girl's hand. Quickly she made a fist.

"Excuse me, miss," she said politely, squeezing the bottle, and depositing some of the ointment on her fingertips. - I promise it won't hurt.

"I know not…" she said firmly.

Carefully, he passed over the red stain.

It cannot contain the certain embarrassment that was starting to emerge.

- That's it, now you're going to get a lollipop. - she said, closing the bottle.

This time she couldn't hold back her smile, and a small curve formed in her lips.

- By the way - - He held his fist closed - My name is Willian Clarke... But just call me Willian.

-Clara...-she replied, withdrawing her hand-What else is in that coat of yours?

Willian was approximately the same age; the fact of his youthful face, and the perfectly trimmed jaw, gave it away. Plus, the illustrated dress clothes and shoes said he wasn't from the region. On the other hand, her eyes in light shades of gold and brown revealed that there was a simple and charismatic person. I believe that, you have already noticed...

- A watch, a button that slipped out of my pocket, keys... - He showed some of the objects - Hair gel, perfume... anyway... and so on...

- Well, - after composing himself - At the end of the street there's a man who fixes a car, he should go...

He tilted his face slightly:

- Thank you very much Miss Clara, my father's car broke down and I really need help. But anyway" - he braced his elbows on the counter as he clasped his hands together in his jaw line - "My dad has some business here so I can stay a little longer, saving you from bad men...

"I don't need..." he replied, removing the smile from his lips.

- Why not? - He smiled - Let me feel useful here...

Saying those words aloud brought out a truth hidden behind that confident posture.

- I can take care of myself very well...

- I have no doubt about that, but anyway... - He held out the bottle in his hands - Apply the ointment once or twice a day, soon that stain will come out.

Clara took the small bottle, being silent as she watched him get up and leave.

***

That night Jack was quiet, it wasn't game night; Clara assumed.

Leona was waiting on the sofa, swirling a glass of reddish liquid. Upon seeing them, she addressed them both:

- How did our little girl behave? -Her hands covered with the glove, she touched Clara's face, squeezing her cheeks.

Jack removed his coat hanging behind the door:

"Well," he replied grumpily.

- We have one more guest to help us with the work here on the farm. – He commented while his unique accent sounded through the house.

- Like this? Jack asked, changing his voice.

Clara walked past the two of them, up the stairs to her bedroom. She had no desire to hear the end of the conversation:

"I feel sorry for this child," she whispered, opening her bedroom door.

A pair of eyes full of fear and sadness stared at her, while her hands gripped changes of clothes, whereas her garments were well preserved.

-Humm...- Clara looked back for some explanation until she turned her gaze to the little boy in her bed.

Hasty steps up the stairs, in a matter of seconds, Jack and Leona brought the speech upstairs:

"We agreed we wouldn't bring any boys," Jack said.

- I know my little love, but Leona decided to take in this poor orphan who was lost. - He said raising his face proudly, as if expecting applause.

- That's two mouths to feed...

- And one more to work, and give us the life we ​​always deserved - Leona took Jack's arm - We can't argue in front of the kids.

Jack closed the door, and his footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Clara left her bag by the door:

- This is my bed.

The boy rubbed his eyes, but remained with a faraway look.

- It's okay, I sleep in the other one. - Clara took some blankets and arranged the bed on the other side of the room, sat watching him.

She was probably the same age as when she came to live on the Drakes' farm. Her body that by the way was much more fed, but the clothes said that she possibly spent some time in the street.

He was scared by all of this, his hands were gripping the changes of clothes tightly, and at the same time they were shaking.

His gaze lifted and wandered across the room.

"I'm scared…" the words that left her slightly peeled lips.

Clara looked away, resting her head on the pillow. Something about him reminded me of who he was...

She turned to the wall so that she would no longer find fear in the poor boy's eyes. Her eyes filled with tears, she tightly repressed releasing a few sighs until she gently touched his neck, missing Him again.

...

The absence of certain things produces a feeling that we know all too well as homesickness.

People make us miss.

Memories make us miss.

And a bicycle without wheels makes you miss...

I miss being able to share smiles and scratches.

I miss saying "I won't let you go..."

See your hands shake but your fingers steady.

See you distance yourself from me while pedaling, freely.

I miss rushing to keep up...

Sorry to say that I'll be here even if I don't look back...