He awoke the next morning with a light knitted blanket on top of him. It took him a moment to remember where he was. The lights confused him; the grown-ups at the orphanage usually turned them off for him after he falls asleep and the window in his room at the orphanage was boarded shut. When he sat up and looked around, fear gripped his chest. He wasn’t in the orphanage. What was the old man going to do now? He couldn’t remember the man’s name but he did remember those glossy eyes of his wife staring at him. He shuddered just thinking about them but thought they would still be asleep.
He slowly got up and tried to stand on his feet again. He stumbled a bit but managed to remain on his feet. Out of habit, he threw his arms back for his routine morning stretch but broke short as he remembered the old man was somewhere nearby. The sunlight, however, shone in through the window and eased Corbin’s fear a little. At least he could make a scene if the man tried to hurt him. He hobbled over to the kitchen and saw Yibson sitting at the small table, a cup of coffee in his hands.
As Corbin entered, Yibson looked up and a warm smile jumped onto his face. “Good morning, Corbin. Come on in, son. Sit down. Let me get you something to eat.” He rummaged around in the cupboards and pulled out a bowl and a small bag of cereal. From the refrigerator he withdrew a small milk bottle and poured out the last of the milk. “Here you go,” he said as he set the bowl and a spoon on the table. “Don’t be shy. Come sit down and eat up.”
He sat back down and resumed sipping his coffee while looking out of the widow above the sink. He occasionally glanced over at Corbin who had slowly crept over and sat down and was now eating whole-heartedly. Corbin’s eyes danced around the room and occasionally met Yibson’s. He was glad to see they weren’t black like he had imagined them the night before, but dark brown. They made him look more human and more welcoming.
When he had finished eating, Yibson turned and looked at him. “I see we had quite an appetite.”
Corbin looked up, worried that he should have left some for Yibson but he was reassured when he saw the man smile at him warmly. “Thank you Mr… um…” he mumbled.
Yibson chuckled. “Forgot my name already have you? It’s Yibson. You can call me Yibby, though. How’s your foot?”
“It’s better. Thank you for healing it Mr. Yibson,” he quickly said. He felt awkward calling this older man Yibby but Yibson smiled.
“Now do you want to tell me what you were doing last night? Is it you that I’ve been seeing walk around the wall for the past few nights?”
Corbin hesitated then nodded.
“Come on now son, I’m not mad at you. I just want to know what you were doing.”
“I… I was just…” he choked down a sob but his eyes still watered.
“It’s ok, son,” said Yibson solemnly as he watched Corbin try to master his emotions. “I understand. Where do you live Corbin? We need to get you home.”
Corbin shook his head.
“Come on son, we have to get you home. Where do you live? You’re too young to be out alone. How old are you?”
“I’m eleven. And I don’t want to go back to the orphanage. Please. They will hurt me for sneaking out. You can’t take me back.” Corbin began to cry quietly.
“Alright Corbin. Take it easy, son.” Yibson pulled his chair around the table and sat beside him. “Don’t worry son. I heard about that place. I’ll figure it out.” He pulled Corbin into a hug. “I’ll figure it out. I won’t take you back there,” he added, talking more to himself than to Corbin.
“Now come on. I need to go to the market to buy a few things for lunch. Do you own anything at the orphanage?” he asked as he pulled Corbin back.
Corbin’s hand reached for his chest before a worried look jumped onto his face.
“What’s the matter son? Oh, that’s right. Don’t start getting worried. I took it off of you last night so that it doesn’t choke you.” Yibson walked into the living room and returned a few seconds later with a small square locket on a bronze chain. “Here you go.”
Corbin grabbed it and immediately put it back on, holding it tight against his chest.