I didn't understand what had just happened. For at least a few long minutes we remained in that state of refuge. I wanted to understand what was happening.
Slowly he released my body. With tears in his eyes, almost breathless from sobbing, he spoke a few words softly. I couldn't hear. I asked him to repeat. Slowly he said to me:
- Never, nobody has done anything like this in all the nights I come here to stay.
I was perplexed. How "every night"? What was he doing there? Many questions arose, without any receiving an answer. Seeing my concern, he touched my wet hands. The cold morning dew no longer mattered; at that moment I wanted to understand the situation.
- Well, I see you're worried, but I understand. Everyone looks at me from their windows with disgust. I don't know why, they think I chose the life I have, but I didn't. I was forced into it. I'm a prostitute, a pimp. - angrily - Do you know what that is? Do you know?
I nodded in affirmation. Then, as I was about to continue, the rain intensified and the church clock struck. It must have been five in the morning. I needed to go, but I wanted to help that boy.
"I have to go, but I want to see you again. I want to talk to you."
On a newspaper clipping that had just hit my shin, I scribbled my address.
"I'll be waiting for you. Come by."