Joe’s ears pricked up, caught by the wail on the edge of that faint call. Amidst a sea of legs, by the café sign, was a tiny person—a stocky toddler—who had just realised that Mama suddenly was not there. Little boy, Joe judged by the current skew of blue clothes towards boys.
“Hello.” Joe crouched, and then simply sat on his folded heels. “Have you lost your mama?”
The toddler nodded, tumbling burnished curls into his tear-filled blue eyes.
The toddler drew in a messy, snotty sniff. “Matty.”
“Hello, Matty.” Joe smiled. “Where was mama?”
Fat tears spilled down Matty’s cheeks. He was too young; all he knew was Mama wasn’t within reach.
The tropical sun was shining high in the noon sky. Despite the red cheeks, Matty’s sun cream was freshly applied; a touch of white cream marred his collar. Matty’s mama wasn’t too far away. It was lunch time and he was standing outside a café.
“Shall we find Mama?” Joe held out his hand.
Joe was aware of the image that he presented: man, Maghrebi, speaking to an upset, white child. No one else was helping. Half-stooped over, holding Matty’s outstretched hand, Joe pushed open the door and guided him into the café. The wave of cool air washing over them was welcome. The café was packed.
“Matty?” A young woman pushed through the press of customers, wielding a double pushchair holding two identical, chubby-cheeked babies. “Oh, Matty.”
She crouched, one hand on the handle of the pushchair. Matty barrelled into her side, spreading snot on her shoulder.
“What have I told you, Matty? You can’t wander off. I’m going to get the baby reins out again.”
“Noooooooooo.” Matty protested.
Matty’s mama finally noticed him.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you. I was in the queue and Beatrice was crying--” she glanced at the baby in the yellow sundress gnawing ferociously on the ear of a bedraggled teddy bear, “--and just—then I turned…he’s like lightning.”
“My son was exactly the same way.” Joe smiled wistfully. Sinjin had predated the invention of baby reins but a rope entwined around his waist had worked just as well as he and Nicolò had toiled on the farm.
“Aren’t they just!” Matty’s mama shared an understanding grin.
“So Matty are you going to run off again?” Joe asked.
Matty shook his head vigorously.
‘Reins,’ Matty’s mama mouthed. Joe couldn’t help but agree.
“Well, I’m glad we found you,” Joe said.
“Thank you. And thank you again.”
Joe slipped out of the café before they descended into the back and forth of a multitude of thank yous and it’s not a problem. Nile was waiting for him on the kerb.
“Yeah.” Joe jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“So what do you suppose he’s gonna to do? Cure Parkinson’s? The next Greta Thunberg?”
“Hmmm,” Joe mused thinking on small acts of service: a life time of caring for lost little ones; their last pennies in beggars’ bowls; holding open doors for elders, or smiles shared with strangers on the street. “I think he’s a little baby returned safely to his mother.”
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