The Childhood of Jesus Read Online Free PDF Page A

straps the cashbox back on his bicycle, shakes hands with Álvaro, dons his hat, and pedals off down the quay.
    â€˜What are your plans for the afternoon?’ asks Álvaro.
    â€˜I have no plans. I might take the boy for a walk; or if there is a zoo, I might take him there, to see the animals.’
    It is Saturday, noon, the end of the working week.
    â€˜Would you like to come along to the football?’ asks Álvaro. ‘Does your young man like football?’
    â€˜He is still a bit young for football.’
    â€˜He has to start sometime. The game starts at three. Meet me at the gate at, say, two forty-five.’
    â€˜All right, but which gate, and where?’
    â€˜The gate to the football ground. There is only one gate.’
    â€˜And where is the football ground?’
    â€˜Follow the footpath along the riverfront and you can’t miss it. About twenty minutes from here, I would guess. Or if you don’t feel like walking you can catch the number 7 bus.’
    The football ground is further away than Álvaro said; the boy gets tired and dawdles; they arrive late. Álvaro is at the gate, waiting for them. ‘Hurry,’ he says, ‘they will be kicking off at any moment.’
    They pass through the gate into the ground.
    â€˜Don’t we need to buy tickets?’ he asks.
    Ãlvaro regards him oddly. ‘It’s football,’ he says. ‘It’s a game. You don’t need to pay to watch a game.’
    The ground is more modest than he had expected. The playing field is marked off with rope; the covered stand holds at most a thousand spectators. They find seats without difficulty. The players are already on the pitch, kicking the ball around, warming up.
    â€˜Who is playing?’ he asks.
    â€˜That’s Docklands in blue, and in red are North Hills. It is a league game. Championship games are played on Sunday mornings. If you hear the hooters sounding on a Sunday morning, that means there is a championship game being played.’
    â€˜Which team do you support?’
    â€˜Docklands, of course. Who else?’
    Ãlvaro seems in a good mood, excited, even ebullient. He is glad of that, grateful too for being singled out to accompany him. Álvaro strikes him as a good man. In fact, all of his fellow stevedores strike him as good men: hard-working, friendly, helpful.
    In the very first minute of the game the team in red makes a simple defensive error and Docklands scores. Álvaro throws up his arms and lets out a cry of triumph, then turns to the boy. ‘Did you see that, young fellow? Did you see?’
    The young fellow has not seen. Ignorant of football, the young fellow does not grasp that he should be attending to the men running back and forth on the pitch rather than to the sea of strangers around them.
    He lifts the boy onto his lap. ‘See,’ he says, pointing, ‘what they are trying to do is to kick the ball into the net. And the man over there, wearing the gloves, is the goalkeeper. He has to stop the ball. There is a goalkeeper at each end. When they kick the ball into the net, it is called a goal. The team in blue has just scored a goal.’
    The boy nods, but his mind seems to be elsewhere.
    He lowers his voice. ‘Do you need to go to the toilet?’
    â€˜I’m hungry,’ the boy whispers back.
    â€˜I know. I’m hungry too. We must just get used to it. I’ll see if I can get us some potato crisps at half-time, or some peanuts. Would you like peanuts?’
    The boy nods. ‘When is half-time?’ he asks.
    â€˜Soon. First the footballers must play some more, and try to score more goals. Watch.’

CHAPTER 4
    RETURNING TO their room that evening, he finds a note pushed under the door. It is from Ana: Would you and David like to come to a picnic for new arrivals? Meet at noon tomorrow, in the park, by the fountain. A.
    They are at the fountain at noon. It is already hot—even the