Chapter 2: RUN WILD OR GO FREE
Everything happened so quickly. The loaf of freshly baked bread sailing through the air, the dazed looking customers watching in surprise as the confectionery hoped over their on its way towards the exit, and shouting, "O V E R H E R E!" Samson waiting beyond the door, Seeing how smoothly the plan was going was going the vagabond was about to snatch another loaf from the tray.
An alert, quick thinking shop assistant raced towards the boy shouting, "thieves stop them!!" The street urchin was forced to beat a hasty retreat as the first loaf was tossed towards Samson's outstretched hands.
"Run!", shouted Samson catching hold of the warm confectionery as it landed in his open hands. Luckson who had been straggling behind the other boys and had just arrived, at once sensing the alarm in Samson's voice fled for dear life. By the time the people in the bakery recovered their senses enough to realize what was going on, the other boys were running out in different directions, deliberately confusing any would be pursuers. But as Samson secured the loaf of bread firmly in his fell in his grasp, all the peoples attention was focused on him.
"Catch that boy!!", shouted the shop assistant to people standing close to door, but it was in vein. Samson was already fast retreating out of their reach leaving them clutching at the air.
All together as with one accord the other people in the bakery took up the chase with the shop assistant leading the charge. Shouting , "thief! thief! at the top of his voice in order to attract attention.
Realizing that he was not being pursued, Luckson looked back only to see Samson being pursued by an angry mob.
As the chase proceeded the smob swelled in size as they were joined by sympathetic members of the public some of whom had seen what had happened. Even some who were clueless about what was happening but just got caught up in the mob psychology and joined in the chase.
While others waited ahead for the fleeing rascal to get close enough for them to try to attempt to trip or grab him.
However well meaning their intentions were, they had not contended with how desperate Samson was to evade capture. Skillfully leaping over outstretched legs and fiercely breaking himself free from all attempts to catch him, Samson was a man possessed. Shoving, pushing and running, all the time, hard running for dear life. Samson was so determned to get away with his ill acquired prize. In that moment he was so single minded in his determination that nothing was going to deprive him of that fresh loaf of bread. As he fled leaping and shirking off possible capture, he was a hero in the eyes of the other vagabonds. He was fighting not only for his own freedom but for their very survival.
Samson was beginning to get tired from all the hard running. Even the shop assistant had fallen behind in the chase while fresh pursuers had taken up the cause.The initial burst of energy he had started of with in the beginning was all gone, he felt he was running on fumes. He knew that he couldn't go on much longer running on reserve as he was.
Looking around desperately for a hiding place as he ran, Samson suddenly caught sight of Luckson standing on the other side of the road. Doubling back he weaved his way through the crowd of clueless shoppers to evade his pursuers. As he sped past Samson tossed the still warm oven fresh bread at Luckson, calling out, "catch!".
Luckson, without giving any thought to what he was doing made a grab for the confectionary as it sailed through the air. He ravenously tore into the oven warm confectionery enjoying the taste of fresh bread bread in his mouth.
At the same time the hard running now exhausted Samson was making a beeline for a delivery lane up ahead with the last iota of strength in his body. As Samson dived into the lane with the last of his strength, his pursuers suddenly paused unable to see their quarry who had seemingly just vanished from sight. They stood around in confusion, and unsure how to proceed. Then an old woman pointed her walking stick accusingly at Luckson, like an elongated wooden finger with which she was going to bewitched him, "There is one of them!", croaked the old woman.
Her announcement whipped the mob once again into a frenzy of activity and they descended on Luckson who oblivious to the danger was doing justice to the bread.
Looking up in surprise he found himself surrounded by the angry mob who were bent on administering instant justice.
Just then an authoritative voice was heard calling out, "make way!", getting close.
The speaker, a policeman burst through the crowd before they could lay a hand on Luckson.
Taking a pair of handcuffs from his belt, the policeman clapped them on Luckson's hands. He "Okay show's over, break it up now", the policeman, called out dispersing the crowd as he led Luckson away told him".
Three weeks later, Luckson was laying on a bed roll in juvenile detention. He heard voices, the speakers seemed to be getting nearer. One was saying, "you don't know these kids father, they are like wild animals".
"Come on they are just kids", the other who sounded jovial was saying .
"Okay don't take my word for it you 'll find out what I 'm talking about for yourself".
"I intend to", replied the other cheerfully.
They were now standing in front of the prison cell in which Luckson was being held. One of the two speakers was a prison Warden, the other was jovial looking priest with an easy going smile which seemed permanently welded to his face.
"Is that the boy", asked the priest affably.
"Yes", replied the warden.
The warden unlocked the prison door and held it open for the priest.
The warden was about to walk into the cell but the priest stopped him.
"Thank you but you can leave", said the priest.
"Are you sure you don't want a body guard", the warden pursued.
"I believe we 'll be just fine", the priest said with a reasuring smile at Luckson as he lay on the bed roll facing the wall".
"Ok suit yourself", said the prison Warden withdrawing from the cell and closing the door behind him.
"But if you change your mind, just holla".
"That won't be necessary thank you", replied the priest smiling down at Luckson, who pretended not to hear.
With that the prison Warden turned and walked away.
The priest walked towards Luckson and introduced himself with his trade mark smile.
"I 'm father Michael, you must be Luckson Lungu, I 've heard about you, well not in too much detail. May be you care tell me a about yourself?"
Stubbornly ignoring the priest, Luckson Lungu stared at the wall.
Receiving no response father Michael proceed to ask, "May I sit with you?"
Father Michael proceeded to sit at the foot of the bed roll.
"Ok you don't want to talk but I 'll tell you a bit about myself. If you still don't want to talk I 'll leave you to enjoy your solitude. If is that ok with you?"
Still there was no response from Luckson.
"I 'm someone who loves to travel and to talk about the places I have been to.
I have seen truly breath taking settings. But I can tell you in all of creation there is no sight to rival the Victoria falls, and I am someone who has seen some of the most spectacular places this world has to offer. I am talking about dramatic scenes such as an avalanche cascasding down the swiss Alps, an unstoppable sheet of snow moving at phenomenal speed at once, beautiful and terrible in it's destructive power knocking down everything and anything in it's path.Or a thousand eagles taking to flight, imagine all those wings beating the air at once, the sheer energy.
As father Michael spoke Luckson set up listening intently, no longer pretending to ignore him.
"Well that's my two cents worth of talking, I will now leave said Father Micheal with a friendly smile getting up from the bed roll.
Assuming a sterner but calm tone of voice, father Michael extended a hand to Luckson."Take my hand and we can walk out of here together right now".
Again he was met with silence. Turning towards the door, father Michael called out, "Warden I 'm ready to leave!".
As the warden unlocked the door to the cell, something broke on Luckson and he called out in panic to father Michael, "please don't leave me here.
"I won't leave you", father Michael replied warmly with a reassuring a smile.
Moments later they were in Father Michaels car. It was dark when they left juvenile detention. All throughout the journey they hardly talked as they drove past the brightly city centre with it's neon signs, past the Granite park where Luckson had grown up, past the school which he had attended, right to the suburbs on the other side of town.
It was like journey down memory lane and as they drove on in silence father Michael kept smiling to himself, as though he was holding on to a secret that only he knew. Finally they arrived at their destination and got into a driveway with paving and well manicured gardens on either side.
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