97. Friends?

"Go and play with the kids of your age." I said, gesturing my hand around at the kids who were playing. Some of their parents were sitting on the benches while they play. I looked around for the lady who was his caretaker. Why do I have to encounter with these people again. Meeting them at the airport and now here. Where they travelling here along with me? Even so. Why the same city.

"I don't like those kids." He said, folding his hand against his chest.

"I don't care whether you like or not. I don--" I was about to tell that I don't like him. But telling that to a little kid will not be appropriate. So, I halted my words before that could hurt him.

"C'mon why not you play with me for a while and I will help to fix your hand." He pleaded.

"My hand is completely fine. Just need some oiling which I can do. So no thank you." I said, putting on my glove.

"Do you have oil?" The kid asked.

"Why?" I asked.