Lost Odyssey - 1000 Years of Dreams Little Liar (Part 1) Narrated by David Grandmont Everyone in the marketplace hates the little girl. Not yet ten years old, and far from having outgrown the sweet innocence of childhood, she earns only open contempt from the grownups that have shops in the market. The reason is simple. She lies about everything. Hey, mister, I just saw a burglar go into your house! Look, lady, everything just fell off your shelves! Hey, everybody, did you hear what the traveler said? Bandits are planning to attack this market! Even the most harmless white lies can be annoying if repeated often enough, and the shopkeepers have found themselves growing angry. You better watch out for her, too, the lady greengrocer warns Kaim. Nobody here falls for her lies anymore, so she's always on the lookout for newcomers or strangers. Somebody like you would be a perfect target for her. She could be right. Kaim is new to the town. He arrived a few days ago and has just started working in the marketplace today. What do her parents do? Kaim asks while unloading a cartful of vegetables. The woman frowns and shakes her head with a sigh. She doesn't have any. They died? The mother did, at least, maybe four or five years ago. She was a healthy young woman who never so much as caught a cold in her life, then one day she collapsed, and that was it for her. How about the father? She sighs more deeply then before and says, He left to find a job in the city. The parents used to operate a variety store in the market, though the mother almost single-handedly took care of the actual buying and selling of the many goods they carried. As soon as she died, the shop's fortunes took a plunge, until it was eventually taken over by someone else. The father went off to the distant capital city in search of a good- paying job that would enable him to cover their debts. He promised to come back in six months, but he has been gone a whole year now. Letters used to arrive from him on occasion care of his friend the tailor, but those, too, gave out about six months ago. I guess you could say it's sad for such a little girl to be waiting around for her father to come home, but still... The girl now sleeps in a corner of the communal storehouse run by the people of the marketplace. We all used to talk about taking care of her- to be stand-in parents for her until her father comes back. This is no surprise to Kaim. He knows from his own experience that all the people who work in the marketplace---and not just this plump, kindly woman---are good- hearted and generous despite their limited means. Otherwise, they never would have hired a stranger like himself. But long before that first six months went by, we were all heartily sick of her. She was a sweet, simple girl while her mother was alive, but this experience has left her kind of twisted. All her sweetness is gone. Of course we all feel sorry for her, and we take our turns feeding her and dressing her in hand-me-downs, but the way she keeps telling lies to all the grownups, nobody really cares about her anymore. Why can't she see that...? She must be lonely, don't you think? With a pained smile, the woman shrugs and says, That's enough gabbing for one day. Work, work! and she goes back inside the shop. Kaim is sorting the vegetables he has unloaded in front of the shop when he hears a little voice behind him. Hi, mister, you new here? It's the girl. Uh-huh... You're not from the town, are you? No, I'm not... Are you living upstairs while you work here? For a while, at least. That's what I'm hoping to do. I'll tell you a secret, okay? It's starting already, Okay, Kaim says without pausing in his work. There's a ghost in this marketplace. The people here don't tell anybody about it because it's bad for business, but it's really here. I see it all the time. Really?! Kaim responds with a feigned surprise. He decides to play along with her rather then scold her for lying. In this endlessly long life of his, he has encountered any number of children who have lost their parents or been abandoned by them. The sadness and loneliness of children who have been cast into the wide world alone exactly what Kaim feels himself as he continues to wander throughout the infinite flow of time. What kind of ghost? A woman. And I know who she is. It's the ghost of a mother who lost her child, she says. Her little girl---her only child---died in a epidemic. Overcome with grief, the mother chose to die, and now her ghost appears in the market every night, searching for her daughter. The poor mother! She killed herself so she could be with her daughter, but she can't find her in the other world, either. So she keeps looking for her and calling out, Where are you? Hurry and come with Mommy to the other world. The girl tells her story with deadly seriousness. Don't you think it's sad? she asks Kaim. She actually has tears in her eyes--- which is precisely why Kaim knows she is lying. Even if he had not been warned by the woman, he would know this was a lie based on what she told him about the girl's background. Kaim carefully arranges bunches of well-ripened grapes in a display crate and asks the girl, Why do you think the mother can't find her daughter? What? The girl asks him with a dazed stare. Well, he explains, the girl is not in the other world, and she's not wandering around in this world. So where is she? Kaim does not mean this to be a cross-examination. He simply feels that someone who lies out of sorrow can have a far easier time of it by recognizing the lie for what it is. The loneliness of a girl who has lost her mother and been abandoned by her father consists not in telling on little lie but in having to keep on lying. Hmm, now that you mention it, that's a good point, the girl says, smiling calmly. Really--where did the girl go? Kaim momentarily considers pointing at the girl as if to say Right here, but before he can do so, she continues: This is the first time anybody ever asked me that. You're kind of...Different. I wonder... No you are, you're different, the girl insists I think we can be friends. Her smile deepens. Kaim smiles back at her, saying nothing. Just then, they hear the lady greengrocer coming from the back of the shop, and the girl dashes away. Just before she disappears around the corner into the alleyway, the girl gives Kaim a little wave as if to say See you soon! For the first time, the face of the girl with the all-too-grownup speaking style shows a hint of childishness befitting her years. The girl begins coming to see Kaim at the shop several times a day when the lady grocer is not around. She tells him one lie after another. I baked cookies with my mother last night. I wanted to give you some, but they were so good I ate them all. Bandits kidnapped me when I was a little baby, but my father came to save me and beat up all the bandits, so I didn't get killed. My house? It's a big, white one at the foot of the mountain. You're new here so you probably don't know it. It's the biggest house in town. You don't have a family? You're all alone? Poor Kaim! I wish I could share some of my happiness with you! All her lies are born of sorrow: sad, lonely lies she could never tell to marketplace people who know her background. At the end of every chat with Kaim, as she is leaving, the girl holds her finger to her lips and says, This is just our little secret. Don't tell the lady grocer. Of course, Kaim says nothing to anyone. If he happens to find himself in a situation where the market people are speaking ill of the girl, he quietly slips away. Lies and disparagements are funny things. They don't take shape because someone tells them but rather because someone listens to and voices agreement with them. A truly isolated individual can never speak ill of anyone. The same can be said regarding lies. Because she has someone to tell her lies to, the girl need not fall into the abyss of true isolation. To protect her small, sad share of happiness, Kaim plays the role of her listener, raising no objections.