Until one day, a shy boy stopped beside him.
Mason noticed the boy's shoes first. They were worn thin at the soles and too small at the toes. Then he noticed the schoolbag hanging from one shoulder, patched twice with black tape. The boy could not have been more than ten or eleven.
He stood a few steps away, pretending not to stare.
But his eyes kept dropping to Mason's notebook.
Mason smiled without lifting his pencil.
"Do you like math?" he asked gently.
The boy hesitated. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag.
"I'm... trying. But I don't understand it."
Mason closed the notebook halfway and studied him for a moment. The boy's voice was soft, almost swallowed by the street noise. His face carried the tired look of a child who had heard too many adults sigh before helping him.
"What's your name?" Mason asked.
"Lucas."
"Well, Lucas," Mason said, patting the bench beside him, "trying is a good place to start."
Lucas did not sit right away. He looked down the street as if afraid someone might see him. Then he lowered himself onto the far end of the bench, leaving a wide space between them.
Mason did not rush him.
"What are they teaching you?" he asked.
"Fractions," Lucas muttered, as if the word itself had insulted him.
Mason chuckled softly.
"Ah. Fractions. They look meaner than they are."
Lucas glanced at him, doubtful.
Mason leaned forward and used the end of his pencil to draw a circle in the dust near his shoe. He divided it into four uneven parts, then wiped it away and drew another one more carefully.
"Imagine this is a pie," he said.
Lucas' eyes narrowed. "What kind?"
"Apple, if you like apple."
"I like chocolate."
"Then it is chocolate," Mason replied, serious as a judge. "Now, if you eat one piece out of four, what do you have?"
"A stomachache if it's big enough," Lucas said before he could stop himself.
Mason blinked, then laughed. It had been a long time since anyone had surprised a laugh out of him like that.
From that day on, they met almost every evening.
At first, Lucas came slowly, always glancing over his shoulder, always ready to run if Mason seemed annoyed. But Mason never was. He explained patiently, drawing numbers in the dust, using bottle caps, pebbles, and even leaves to make lessons easier.
