The chats over the short wall

In the small house across the lane opposite Chamil's house, lived a small boy around his age and they were good friends. Every evening when Chamil cycled down the lane, he'd stop by the short wall of the boy's house and have a chat with him. The boy would give him Lovi fruits plucked from the big tree in his garden and Chamil would give him a few toffees he had bought from the small wayside shop.

But to Chamil's great dismay, the boy and his family left for another house, because they were staying on rent. Although Chamil did speak to the boy over the phone after he left, he missed their little evening chats over the short wall.

The small house was closed for weeks. But after sometime the gates were unlocked and some men came and cleaned the house and garden.

"Has someone taken this house on rent again?" Chamil peeped over the short wall and asked one of the workers.

"Yes, they will be here next week," replied a worker who was busy whitewashing the walls.

"That's good," thought Chamil, "at least I'll have a friend to chat with in the evenings.”

After a week or so, a truck came and unloaded furniture. Chamil cycled up and down but couldn't see anyone else other than the movers who were busy carrying furniture into the house. The next evening when Chamil was cycling, he looked at the house again. The curtains were closed but there was still no one to be seen.

Chamil went near the short wall, ready to say 'hello' and to make friends with the newcomers.

He stood there and looked around. Suddenly out of nowhere a huge dog umped at him, barking ercely. Chamil almost fell off his bike but the wall prevented the dog from coming near him. The dog kept his paws on the short wall and continued to bark.

"Who is it Flash?" asked a deep voice and a smart looking elderly gent walked out with the help of a crutch. He had a deep scar across his face.

"He looks as erce as the dog " thought Chamil cycling off as fast as he could. "He looks like he has got into a lot of ghts. He looks like trouble "

"I wish a kid moved into the small house across the lane," sighed Chamil. "But it turned out to be an unfriendly gent and an unfriendly dog "

" on't be rude Chamil " said his mother, "maybe you'll make friends with them."

"Never " sulked Chamil. "That dog won't even let me go near the wall. So much for the happy chats I had with my friend over the short wall, when he was there."

That evening Chamil looked at the small house while cycling. The garden was messy and not swept. The ripe Lovi fruits were perishing under the tree. "What a waste," thought Chamil. The dog was not to be seen. "I wish I could have some Lovi fruits," thought Chamil. He went near the wall and looked up at the tree. The red fruits looked like rubies.

"They don't seem interested in Lovi," he thought. "No point letting these go to waste," he thought leaning his bike against the short wall. He tried to balance himself on the bicycle, and tried to reach for a branch. But it was not as easy as he thought it would be. Suddenly the dog came running to the garden out of nowhere, barking like crazy. Chamil lost his balance and fell on top of the short wall and then into the gentleman's garden.

"This is my end " thought Chamil, closing his eyes and thinking that the dog would shred him into pieces. But someone shouted "Flash, sit down " and the dog sat down at once. Chamil looked up in surprise. The gent limped towards him with his crutch. "This time it's de nitely my end; he will hit me till I break into pieces " thought Chamil.

"Are you okay Putha?" asked the gentleman in a kind tone, stretching his hand towards Chamil. He grabbed the gent's strong hand and got up. Chamil's knees were wounded. "Wait here. I will get something for that," said the gent helping Chamil to sit on the bench under the Lovi tree. The dog sat there like a statue. Chamil was too surprised to say anything, by the unexpected turn of events.

The gent came back with some water and medicine. He washed Chamil’s wounds and put some ointment. "We used this when we got wounded during the war," he smiled. "The war?” Chamil stared at him. "Yes, I am a retired soldier and Flash is a retired police dog that I adopted."

Suddenly the limp and the scar across the gentleman's face made sense to Chamil. He felt shy for wrongly judging him. "If you want Lovi ask me the next time, Putha. Don't do dangerous things like this again "

"I won't do anything like this again Sir. Thank you " said Chamil. The gent plucked and gave a handful of Lovi for Chamil to take with him.

After that day, whenever Chamil cycled down the lane, he'd always stop by the short wall. Just like he did before, during the time his friend was there. Flash too stopped barking at Chamil as he got used to the boy.

The gentleman would give Chamil Lovi fruits and tell him stories about the war. Chamil would stop by the short wall and listen to the war adventures in awe. Some days he'd even help the gentleman to sweep and clean his garden. And so the chats over the short wall continued between Chamil and his new friend, the war hero, every evening.