It Takes More Than A Village--It Takes A Villager

I had a chance meeting this evening on the trail. 

After school, I needed to get gas and run by the pet store before heading home, so I didn't arrive home until around 4:30.  With the sun setting in 18 minutes, the priority was to harness-up Romeo and head for the park.  By the time "we'd done our duty," the sun was set and the remaining light was fading fast. 

As we returned to the playground from the trail, I made the spot decision to go left and extend his walk by going over to New Hampshire Avenue and around the neighborhood to it's entrance instead of just going back up the hill through it.  I was feeling better and Romeo had spent an atypically long day at the house sleeping.  This portion of the trail led us past a half-court basketball court were a group of boys was squeezing the last possible seconds of light out of the day in a game of three-on-three.  From there we walked the length of the little flood plain and up a slight hill to the bridge crossing Sligo Creek.  By now, I had turned on his flashing blue light because it had gotten dark.

As we approached the bridge, I heard the sound of running feet.  It was a young man and he ran up to us out of breath and said rapidly, "Excuse me.  Can you help me?  Do you know how to get to SSI School?"

Not quite understanding what he was saying, I asked, "What?"

"SSI School--Silver Spring International School.  I was visiting my friend at his house and now it's dark and I have to get to SSI School."

"Oh my," I said, "You're running in the wrong direction." 

"Oh no.  Oh no.  Can I use your phone to call someone for help?" 

I explained that didn't have a cell phone, but that I lived close by, and he was welcome to use the phone at my home.  So, he said, "Okay" and as we walked he added, "I know you're not supposed to ask strangers for help."  That's when I started to suspect that I had misjudged him.  He was every inch of six feet tall and very lanky.  I made the assumption that he was probably around sixteen like the boys we'd just passed playing basketball.  He told me his name was Francisco, and I introduced Romeo and myself.  As we were nearing my home he asked me if it would be possible for me to drive him to SSI.  I said I could.  And as we entered the driveway I unlocked my truck and then took Romeo to the house to leave him behind.

In the truck we chatted some more and I made sure to tell him my full name and every street that we turned onto.  By the time we got to Flower at the campus of the Seventh Day Adventist Hospital, he recognized were he was again.  He shared that he lived with his mom and they were from Uruguay and that he ran cross-country at Takoma Park Middle school where he was part of the magnet school in mathematics.  He explained that he runs everywhere and so thought that he could easily run from his friend's house back home, but had a problem after he left his friend's house.  Okay, between he had a problem and he went to Takoma Park Middle School my mind was suddenly very attuned.  He had to be an eighth grader, but still that would mean that he was actually only thirteen years old....  But before I could inquire on that score, he went on to describe his problem.

About a block after leaving his friend's house he noticed that a white van was following him.  He started to run harder and it kept pace.  Then at some point someone in the van rolled down the window and began going "Pow.  Pow.  Pow."  He said, "I'm still shaking thinking about it.  I will never go to my friend's house again."

I asked, "Where does your friend live?"

He said, "Near the food co-op."

And I thought, that's a good neighborhood.  About a mile and half from where he ran into Romeo and me and asked us for help--(and about 3 miles from where it turned out he actually lives...)  I told him he was lucky to run into us, because further down the trail from that spot it turned into woods for over a mile.  I assured him he was safe now, and didn't have to be afraid.  Then he asked me if I could take him all the way to his house.  And I said, sure.

We continued to chat the rest of the way.  I explained what I did for a job.  And he asked me at one point if I lived with my family.  I explained that Romeo is my family. He told me that his father was in Uruguay working, and that every summer he went there to practice his Spanish and learn about his culture.

When we got to his house, He exclaimed, "Oh no, my mom's home!"  I thought about asking him if he would like me to meet her, but he gathered his backpack up and dashed off with a hasty "Thank you!" to which I offered, "You're welcome.  Take care of yourself."