What was he doing? I kept asking that same question all over again. Each time I came into the room and sat down I found a boy in front of me. I could not see his face, in fact it was impossible to get a clear look at his face. I was sure he was doing something important, for he was very focused on what he was doing, as if nothing else existed, in fact it made me look like a worthless worm. I proposed myself to find out, and I was willing to go to the end of the world to seach for that answer; well just to the other side of the room.
I did not know the boys’ name so I decided to name him Esteban. It was wednesday and I was back from work, I was exhausted, but as soon as I saw Esteban sitting in front of me, I realized that my day at work meant nothing compared to that thing he was doing. I sat down and called him: “Esteban, Esteban, what are you doing?” After a few minutes of silence, I asked again and again, yet there was no response.
I was frustrated, and about to give up, when I decided to stand in-front of Esteban. As I got near, I could feel Esteban was aware of my presence, for the first time in my life. Yet I decided not to be directly in front of him, I decide to back off, I could call it a day, Esteban was aware of my existence.
The next attempts were similar in results, although one time I did stand directly in front of Esteban, I could never figure out what was he did. I did not matter anymore if I found what it was Esteban did, in fact I never attempted to discover his doings. The only thing that mattered was that he knew I was there, and that soon he would be eager to find out what it was that I did. And I don’t know but I called him Esteban, a good name, maybe he would call me Jean Pierre.