Pavement. 

   Some of the people queried said pavement was concrete or cement that they walked on. Others claimed pavement was the black tar and gravel mixture that they drove on.

  Curious creatures, the little man thought as he plodded along. Unable to agree on such simple things.

  A precious few believed it was unimportant what pavement was comprised of and instead claimed that it was the use, and not the material, that defined the word. He supposed they were most likely to be correct.

  He continued to walk, his little shoes clicking happily against the pavement. To most who viewed him, he looked like a small boy no older than ten years of age. Certainly he couldn’t have been taller than a yard stick. That, combined with his fanciful clothes, gave him the appearance of quite an odd boy indeed.

  Some people, generally those who gave him the better answer regarding pavement, were more astute and recognized the age in his round, handsome face. True, his hair was as thick and ruddy as it had been in his youth, and no wrinkle had ever besmirched his face, but his eyes could not conceal the number of times he’d seen the seasons pass.

  His shoes clicked on, the sound of it bringing a wide grin to his face.

  Such good shoes, he thought. They were dreadfully hard to come by these days. In fact, proper clothes in general were getting harder to find with each passing year. He’d been fortunate enough as it was to be so finely dressed; brown cotton pants, white collared shirt, suspenders, a light jacket with a hint of green and his red cap tucked under his arm, a peacocks feather protruding from the upturned side of the brim.

  And then there were his shoes. Deep, earthy brown leather molded comfortably around his feet, firm but not too stiff so as to provide support should the urge to dance strike his fancy at a moments notice. There were no laces, but rather a pair of fine brass buckles. One over the bridge, the other above the ankle. The soles were padded an inch thick with a hard leather bottom that clicked so merrily as he walked, while at the same time cushioning each step.

  Yes, he thought, a fine pair of shoes.

  The little man rounded a corner and was met by a roving mongrel of a dog. It’s hair was matted and the ribs along its side stuck out like the surface of a washboard. The little man stopped. The dog eyed the little man.

  “And what will you be wanting?” The little man asked, a soft lilt in his voice.

  The dog backed warily away but did not take its eyes off the little man.

  “Your life has been a hard one,” The little man went on, almost singing as he spoke. “Oh poor pooch with bony sides, come let me ease your way. Some meat, a bone, what ere ye ask, I’m sure to grant this day.”

  The dog whimpered but it stopped backing away. The little man smiled, nonthreatening as he placed his red cap on top of his bushy red head. A steak flopped onto the pavement between them, fresh and warm, juices running over the ground and being soaked up where it touched the shoes and paws on either of its sides. For a time it looked like neither one would move again, they stood so still while facing one another. At last, the dogs head stooped, ever so slightly, lower. It sniffed the air, licked the juices on its paw and took a step forward.

  The little man’s eyes twinkled in an uncharacteristic sinister way. The dog, however, didn’t notice as it became engrossed in the steak. Its jaws snapped messily, flecks of bloody meat speckling its snout. As the dog ate, the little man pulled out a block of wood and a carving knife and, sitting down cross legged on the ground, began to widdle away at the block. No matter how hastily the dog ate, the meat did not seem to lessen. The dog bit and tore large chunks away, swallowing them down and moving in for more, and yet still there remained the steak. And still the little man carved. The block of wood was taking shape, a head and slender body.

  The dog ate, frantically trying to hurry its meal. Its eyes were fixed on the little man and his carving and it managed a whimper between bites as the carving gained two pairs of bony legs.

  The dog tried to fit the whole steak in its mouth, to swallow the thing whole and be done with it but the meat flopped and folded itself into impossible to swallow shapes. The dog tried to drag the steak away from the little man but its teeth tore through the meat like a hot knife through soft butter. Still the dog ate; it couldn’t stop now even though it wanted to. Its sides began to bulge, it had eaten so much. And still the little man carved.

  “Oh and aren’t you a pretty thing,” The grinning man said, patting the carving of the dog with his finger and putting away his knife. “I’m sure you’ll come in handy.”

  With that, the little man resumed his walk, pocketing the small carving. The pavement behind him was empty, not a sign of the meat left on the ground, not a dog in sight.

  The little man’s pocket, like his shoes on the pavement, clicked merrily as several little wooden figures knocked together until the newest addition found its place among the rest and they settled back into stillness.

  Faint cries of youthful play reached his ears.

  He smiled, mischievous and cunning, walking along and tucking his hat back under his arm. His little eyes darted to the side as he turned another corner and he spotted his real goal, the whole reason he’d wandered so far for so long, the reason he’d collected the dog.

  Children, he thought.

  How long had it been since he’d had one of those? They were both the easiest to collect as well as the most difficult. The greedy little buggers would take just about anything without thinking twice, but there were rules that prevented him from being able to make such an offer except for in very specific situations. The children he now watched with eager anticipation all met those requirements and he wondered if he might not be needing a larger bag before the day was done.

  He tapped out a little dance as he approached before calming himself and focusing on the task at hand. There were children to collect and they were worth more than his weight in gold.