On such a lovely balmy afternoon in this beautiful inner city park it seemed odd to see the little boy slumped sullenly against a large old tree near the edge of the lake. Swans and birds abound in the park and at this time of the year it is teeming with life. People walking along the paths that interweave around the lakes, trees and shrubs that are such a magnificent part of nature's slim foothold against the cities encroaching menace. Families sitting, spread amongst the patches of grass, picnic baskets set against the contrast of blankets of varying colors and designs. Everywhere the laughter; sounds of children enjoying the open air delights, cricket games in the throes of test match victories, football, world class soccer in the making and of course this countries beloved Aussie rules last minute goal kicking bringing victory for the home team. Yet there he stood out of place in such a setting of vitality, this lost lad, spawn of the inner city lifestyle.
Of course to go into the depths of explanations here would not be appropriate but it succeeds in describing and setting the scene about to unfold. "Hey little boy", said a voice. "You by the tree with the sad sack face". No noticeable difference could be seen in the boy his attitude or expression had not change but that does not mean a lack of recognition. The voice sounded somewhat hollow and had a strong accent not unlike that of a deep Irish brogue tinged with an almost rascally sense of excitement and mischief that would be tantalizing to anyone. "Well now 'tis sad that you do not answer a voice that has no face", he said trying to encourage the young lad to answer. "Perhaps if you were to look up towards the sky", prompted the voice again. Changing tack and being somewhat more direct the mysterious voice said, "Here up in the tree half way down the branch, can you not see myself right before your very eyes?", he asked. A hint of interest seemed to race across the boys eyes and was gone but he was looking up just ever so slightly trying to see without being noticed, who it was jibing at him from up above. "So a glimmer of interest from you at last young laddie, thought did you that I had not observed your reaction", the little one said.
With a sparkle in his eyes he could be seen to be smiling almost from ear to ear as he sat confidently on his lofty perch. As the boy watched him carefully he could see that although very small this little fellow was quite old with a greyish to white beard and seemingly slightly pointed ears and a ragged green hat of a strange shape.
"Tis that you will be sure to be ending up like the statue at the other end of the park if you continue to lean and sulk against that tree young fellow", said this strange person. Well one would have to call him a strange person at this stage not knowing quite what he was the little boy was thinking to himself. "Is there nothing for it then than to take you to places and show you what could be if you let go of the badness inside of yourself that troubles you my lad", he said. And with that the boy started levitating off the ground and sort of disappearing into what appeared to be patchy sections of mist at the same time. In an instant as it were the little one and the boy came together almost as if by some miraculous means of transportation not yet know to man, they were standing on a cloud, looking around the boy could see, although kind of hazy, the far horizons all around him below, yet although they seemed not to be moving a faint breeze he could feel over his face. "So some learning for you it is then my laddie", he announced. "To be sure that you know who is doing the teaching my name is Devlin of Dunrobin", he proclaimed with a sense of pride. "To what shall I be about calling you now"? He asked. "Cameron McGinty ", replied the boy still somewhat aghast and stunned. To amazed even to raise any complaint to the fact of his present whereabouts, he stood motionless with not even a thought that the cloud they were standing on could not possibly hold them.
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