The Little Hobo Boy



I followed the young boy down the street, under a freeway overpass, and through an alley. I knew he couldn’t outrun me forever. After all, the baby bum didn’t even have shoes on his feet! He was fast, but the little bastard had something that belonged to me, and I wanted it back. What a world we live in! I took my eyes off my bag of groceries for one minute, just long enough for me to pop the trunk of my car, and next thing I knew the little thief was running down the block with it!

I turned a corner just in time to see him duck into an abandoned building. I had him cornered now.

“You dirty little vagrant!” I shouted, “Give me back my groceries or I will report you to the authorities!”

I was mad, but as I entered the building, I felt my rage completely wash away only to be replaced by a sense of sympathy for the young one. The little hobo boy, still clutching tight to the bag of groceries he had stolen from my shopping cart, was huddled in a corner trying to comfort three younger children. They were all girls and their clothes were just as unwashed and filthy as the thief’s. Upon closer inspection I could see that they were mostly skin and bones. The poor kiddies looked like they hadn’t eaten in a week! My stomach began rumbling out of empathy for the children.

“Please Mister,” begged the little hobo boy. "You have to understand, I did it for my sisters." I waved my hands as a showing of peace.

“I get it. You’re hungry. That’s why you took my groceries. Look at how scrawny you all are! Why don’t you keep the food so you can have something to eat.”

“I didn’t take your groceries for the food,” said the little hobo boy. It was about this time I noticed that neither he nor his sickly siblings were looking at me. Instead their gaze was focused over my shoulder. “I did it because I promised the monster I could find it a heartier meal than my sisters and I.”

It was then that I felt a warm breath on the back of my neck.