An otherwise beautiful day was scarred by an incident of wanton brutality.
Bending over the tattered shreds of poverty and despair, Marcus gently slipped his sturdy right arm under the slender shoulders of the frail young man. He carefully raised Sergei's trunk to a slightly more elevated position, yet all the while being careful not to inflict any further pain upon the victim. Marie and Ava Sturges, elderly spinster ladies, had been taking their usual early morning walk when they happened upon the poor boy, crumpled in a heap in the narrow lane behind The Book Stall. Ava, the spryer of the two sisters, hastened to Marcus's cottage while a distraught Marie kept watch that no further harm should befall the destitute immigrant. Her protective spirit and the righteous indignation she felt on Sergei's behalf were weapons far greater in strength than any her tiny body could literally wield.
Scarcely able to utter more than a few unintelligible words, Sergei's blue eyes, now opened, told more the story of his life than his garbled speech ever could.
Marcus, the third-generation owner of The Book Stall, recognized the lad immediately. Sergei had arrived from "the old country" some weeks before and had been frequenting the tiny but surprisingly well-supplied book store. The owner, a patient and good-hearted man, listened attentively to Sergei's poor English and deduced that the immigrant wanted a French-English dictionary. Naturally, Marcus knew down what row and on what shelf the somewhat worn yet still serviceable Dictionnaire Larousse sat. It was still too early to understand why a man named Sergei was of the French tongue. Names had yet to be exchanged. Nationality to be learned.
Purchase made and in hand, Sergei motioned with the other hand, which was clutching a notebook and pen, over to the little set of table and chairs by the sunny, cheerily curtained window.
"There ... there?" he continued pointing.
"Yes, of course!" Markus beamed, taking Sergei by his elbow and escorting him to what would become his new classroom.
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