Opowiadanie-wymyslone pt. Lonely Hooligan

A sunny day. Blue sky without even one cloud. Every thing was heated to its peak. Red bricks of the building were looking or maybe just seemed redder than usually. And suddenly a cry:
‘Come back, you little hooligan!’ an old man shouted running after a boy. The boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old was running like mad, trying to escape from the old man. He jumped down the stairs that were going into one of the brick houses, and turned around the corner.
Wrong decision! This street was closed. But he realised this too late, when he stood before a high wooden fence.
Although the man knew where the boy went, he was still quite far behind him.
‘Waht to do? What to do?’ These desperate thoughts started to run through the boy’s mind as fast as lightening. But there was no more time to think. The old man was already behind him, putting his arm on the boy’s shoulder.
‘Wrong path you took, didn’t you?’ said the man not without satisfaction. ‘ You should be ashamed of yourself, young man’
‘Leave me alone!’ the boy shouted, shaking his body, in an attempt to get rid of the hand, so firmly holding him in one position.
‘Oh, no. I won’t just leave just alone; there is no doubt of that. What's your name?’ Asked the man.
‘Mathew...’ the boy answered.
‘Well, then Mathew. Why were you running away from me? All I want from you is just to clean the mess you made and I will let you go.’
‘No. You can do it yourself!’
The face of the old man wrinkled, as if anger was cumulating inside him.
Slowly, choosing words carefully he said:
‘Yes, I could do it myself but I want you to do it and teach you some manners, as long as your parents apparently cannot do it’
‘I’ve got no parents’ Mathew shouted, and then total, frankly dead silence set in.
Tears ran into the boy’s eyes. Driven by an impulse and pity the old man hugged Mathew and tried to cheer him up.
‘I’m sorry Mathew. I didn’t know, but don’t cry everything is going to be all right.
Where do you live?’
‘In an orphanage.’
And it was only now, that the man noticed, that the boy was looking negleced. Despite all that his face was still good looking: swarthy, with big, sparkling, blue eyes and long eyelashes. His hair, although carelessly cut, nicely suited his face.
After a moment of silence the man continued:
‘Look I’m a good man, despite what you may think, and I’m alone, living in the house down this road’ there he pointed at the street. ‘I suppose you may feel lonely, so when you want you could visit me from time to time. I mean if you want, as I assumed that you don’t like where you live now...’
It seemed, as if Mathew’s face brightened, and the tears that a second ago were running down his cheeks dried up. After all it was only couple of months since his parents died in a car crash. He was the only one that survived. Soon he was left on his own, as he didn’t have any relatives. Still he was just fourteen. He needed a friend, and deep down his heart, even though he did not realise it yet, he liked the old man standing before him. Although he didn’t know this yet, the man standing before him would become the best friend, he ever had.