A Town Called Nowhere

Amends. And a Story.

Noah and Niilo have decided that their last encounter with Mr. Hendersson went poorly, to say the least. It's always a good idea to be friends-- or, at the least, not enemies-- with the person in charge of ones' grades, especially if said person used to live in the Big City. They want to make amends. Hopefully they'll learn a bit about the Big City in the process. 

Mr. Hendersson walks towards the school gates, breath visible in the cold morning air, keys jangling on his belt, briefcase slung over his shoulder. He opens the front gate, and Noah and Niilo slip in behind him. Today, they will be the first ones in his class.

Noah's the one who speaks first. He's less afraid of breaking the silence, less afraid of frightening Mr. Hendersson, who hasn't yet realized they're in the room. 

"Mr. Hendersson?" he calls out, cautiously. 

Mr. Hendersson jumps a bit. Turns around, sees who it is. Calms down. "Yes?" he asks.

Niilo jumps in. "Noah and I were, um, we were wondering about the Big City," he says. 

Noah glares at him. They had planned this before they entered the school building. Apology first, story later. Niilo seems to have his own plan.

"We also wanted to say sorry about interrogating you before. We know we were a bit rude, but--" Noah jumps in.

"--but we are really curious is all, and we were wondering what you could tell us about, well, Stockholm," Niilo finishes.  

Mr. Hendersson's face hasn't changed expressions. "You want to know what life was like when I was growing up?" he asks. Noah and Niilo nod. Yes, they do want to know. "I'm a very busy man," Mr. Hendersson continues. "I have papers to grade-- yours, Noah, needs a lot of work, I'm afraid--"

"I'm sorry," Noah whispers. 

"Let me finish. I have a childhood-- friend, shall we say. He grew up next door to me, moved around the same time, too. Let me give you his number, if you really are so curious." Mr. Hendersson digs around in his desk for a sheet of paper and writes a telephone number on it. Hands it to the boys.

Noah and Niilo turn to leave, their thank-yous consumed by the wind. "Noah?" Mr. Hendersson calls. "Finish your essay by Thursday." Noah nods.