It was late afternoon when they drove out of Muria. It was summer, the season when the sun set late. And so, the night was young when they drove into the city. The governor's house wasn't far from the road they drove in on. And so, they decided to drive straight over.
The drive was silent. YaYa was comfortable in the back, looking out at everything with great curiosity. The two men in the front couldn't think of anything to say, primarily because, for some reason they couldn't understand, they could see that YaYa's excitement wasn't toward the sights they were driving past but about the ice-cream he was promised. And that left the men too confused and too scared to open their mouths. They wanted nothing more than to drop YaYa off at the governor's house and be done with the assignment.
Just as they turned into the street which ended at the gates of the governor's huge house, the silence was broken. There was a small bakery in the corner of the street. YaYa had seen it.
"Can we stop for ice-cream?" He asked.
The two men exchanged glances, but the car didn't slow. They had been in the field before, and they had developed the sense of anticipation that agents in the field develop toward danger. It was screaming at them. But the end was so near they could see it. They decided to push it.
The next second, the taller one driving the car felt his foot lift off of the accelerator. And the other foot was pushing down on the break pedal. The men looked at each other in horror.
YaYa's voice came from the back.
"Can we stop for ice-cream?"
The answer this time was very different. The two men nodded. Turned the car around, drove to the bakery and parked outside.
"Let's all go," YaYa said.
As YaYa opened the door, so did the two men. As he stepped out, so did they. And as he walked into the bakery, they followed after. YaYa was beaming as he greeted the young woman behind the counter who couldn't be more than a couple of years older than him.
"Hi. We want ice-cream."
"All of you?" She asked dubiously, looking at the men in the suits.
The street was home to families of ministers high in the government. All of them had security, who looked exactly like the two men in black suits. She was no different. Which was why she was confused. Because agents tasked with security weren't free to have ice-cream with the person they were protecting.
"Yeah," YaYa answered, nodding vigorously.
"You're not from around here," she said.
It wasn't a question. YaYa couldn't bother to answer.
She realised this, and led them to the freezer.
"What would you like," she asked.
YaYa drooled at the many flavours, but didn't speak. When she prodded again, he looked at the taller man as if asking for help.
"You don't know which you want?" The taller man asked hesitantly.
"No," YaYa answered honestly.
"You've never had ice-cream?"
"No," YaYa answered, looking thoughtful. "I think I did once. When I was very little. Mother said I got a cold that lasted a whole week. I wasn't allowed ice-cream ever since."
The men understood why YaYa's mother was glaring at them, and realised they truly couldn't return to the town. Not unless they were ready to accept the mother's fury.
"Try chocolate," the girl suggested. "Almost everyone likes chocolate."
YaYa was delighted.
"Three chocolates then," he said.
"How do you want it? In a waffle cone? Or a cup?"
YaYa didn't need help understanding this. His mother made the best waffles in town, even though she didn't sell waffles in the patisserie.
"Cup," he said without the shadow of doubt.
No one could make waffles better than his mother.
The girl looked at the men.
"Waffle cone, please," the shorter one said.
"Cup," the taller one said with a shrug.
YaYa tasted the ice-cream and beamed at the girl. Without waiting for her reply, turned around and walked out. The men paid for the ice-cream and rushed out after YaYa.
"Is it far?" YaYa asked.
"No," the taller one answered, pointing to the end of the street. "A short walk."
"Let's walk then," YaYa said.
There was no room for discussion. The men quietly walked along.
"It's fun, walking while eating ice-cream," YaYa said with a smile, as the two men nodded. "But I don't like chocolate very much. I should remember this."
The two men could only show the hardship on their faces silently. The moment YaYa said he didn't like chocolate, their hands froze. They could neither eat nor let go of the ice-cream in their hands. They were helpless. YaYa's will was their will.
"We shouldn't waste," YaYa said with a frown.
He stopped, looked at the taller man and asked.
"You like it?"
The taller man shed tears as he nodded. How could he not? He couldn't say he hated chocolate.
YaYa didn't look convinced. He looked at the other man and spoke.
"You have them all."
The shorter man nodded with a smile even as tears spilled out of his eyes. He held the waffle cone in one hand and a cup in another, and continued to eat as they walked on.
An old man immaculately dressed in a deep blue suit was waiting at the gate at they arrived.
"Good evening Mr Riegh," the two men greeted with a bow. "This is YaYa."
YaYa smiled at the old man as he walked over. Stretched his hand. And asked.
"I'm all sticky with ice-cream. Where do I wash?"
As the manager of the governor's house, Reigh was at a position higher than the two government agents. They struggled to keep a straight face as they looked at Reigh.
"We'll leave," the taller man said.
Reigh nodded, and the two rushed away.
YaYa had dropped his hands and was looking in through the open gates. Reigh sighed. In his long life he had seen many powerful and eccentric people who didn't abide by what was popular as common sense. He knew better than to judge YaYa by the same rules.
"Please follow me in, little YaYa," he said, and led the boy in.
If the two agents were to witness the scene, they would be frozen in disbelief. Mr Reigh who they looked up to, was bowing to YaYa deeper than they had. It was a strange world indeed.