A GOOD MAN PART 1

Hello, you. This will be the first of several stories which I won't promote. No personal messages, no sharing links in groups, just letting the algorithm do its thing. That way, the people who read this will be those genuinely interested in reading, not because I force them to click on the link and scroll straight down. At most, two people will read this. If you are one of the two, thank you so much. Anyhow, this story is dedicated to those who are struggling to find purpose in life, frustrated at how nothing goes their way, and flabbergasted at how despite everything you do, in the end, when you look in the mirror, you fail to see someone of significance. Enjoy…

“So, the horse moves in an ‘L’ shape, like this,” Father said, showing me how the knight piece in chess moves. I looked at how the piece moved rather peculiarly in my opinion, then up to my father, who was beaming with a smile. I always liked his facial hair, and wanted to grow my own just like him.

I copied the movement, and received a nod of approval. An hour ago, I was going through the many boardgames in my house, which were kept in a large drawer, and found this game called ‘chess’. I was intrigued at the various designs of the pieces. Usually, there were just many cones of different colours, and die. This ‘chess’ game didn’t even have a die!

Once I was shown the moves, Father challenged me to a match, of which I gladly accepted. A few moves into the game, I anxiously looked at the clock on the wall. There was another clock on the wall behind me, but being the seven-year-old that I am, I couldn’t understand clocks with numbers and fingers yet. The clock in front of me displayed 9.20pm. My bedtime was 9.30pm. I struggled to decide which pieces to move, and where, making each move take some time on my part. Father moved almost instantly. The next time I glanced at the clock, it was 9.35pm. I looked at the clock, then back at Father. Father stared a few seconds at the clock, but looked back at the board, and made his move.

Why is he not asking me to sleep? Usually, he is so strict about bedtime. Is he enjoying this game too much? “Hey, don’t daydream. Make your move,” Father scolded, snapping me out of my trance.

The next morning, whilst I held a firm hug on Father’s motorcycle so I won’t fall off, I yelled out the questions I had of last night, trying my best so that my voice wouldn’t be drowned out by the gushing wind. “Why did you let me sleep past bedtime last night?”

“We were having a game. It would be sad if we were to stop, right?”

I nodded. At school, we learned of ‘ambition’. Basically, what we wanted to be when we grew up. I leafed through the pages of my textbook, which had a sticker with my name ‘Ikhwan’ on it. I was most interested in this ambition ‘palaeontologist’. I couldn’t say it right, nor could I spell it, so I just called it ‘dinosaur man’. The thought that so many big and scary animals once roamed the Earth, and that dinosaur men had the job of finding the bones of these dinosaurs seemed so interesting to me.

In the evening, I watched cartoons as usual. I found myself glued to the television screen when this one cartoon, about dinosaurs on trains came up. I especially liked the conductor. When the show was over, I switched channels but couldn’t find any channel that showed the same cartoon. I eventually found this ‘National Geographic’ channel that was explaining about dinosaurs. It blew my mind! I saw these dinosaurs fight each other. So cool.

At night, Father taught me of ‘castling’. I found it weird, but interesting. I was about to ask for a match, when Father held up his hand, and told me that there was more. I learnt about ‘promotion’, and weirdest of all, ‘en passant’. After my game with Father, which started early as Father didn’t have much work that day, I played ‘Chinese Checkers’ with Mother. The rules were very simple, and I even got close to beating her. Come to think of it, there were so many amazing games out there waiting for me to play them. I will master them all! Maybe I should make my own game?

The following day, during recess, I sat at the school foyer. Students would gather here before class started, and before recess ended, so that the teacher could dismiss us to class. I wasn’t hungry, so I didn’t want to eat anything. It felt lonely, though, as the other students were at the canteen. I got up, crossed the big court used various sports, went through the hall, across the courtyard, and arrived the school library. 2/3 of the space were shelves of books arranged in alphabetical order, with tables and chairs placed transverse to them. The right side of the library was the librarian’s desk, and a show for activities such as storytelling or public speaking.

“Yes!” I exclaimed when I found what I was looking for. A dinosaur encyclopaedia! I was so engrossed in the various names of dinosaurs, that it took the bell signalling the end of recess to bring me back to reality. I rushed out, and went back to the foyer.

In the evening, Mother, who had had a big belly because she was about to give me a new sibling, invited me to watch a movie with her. We watched ‘Jurassic Park’. I loved every second of it. I was super proud that I could name each dinosaur even before the movie announced it. I was ecstatic, but sceptical at first. However, when it was explained that the dinosaurs which had been extinct for the past 65 million years were to be revived using their DNA, I was satisfied, impressed even. There were a few scenes that made me scratch my head, however, like the Dilophosaurus spraying acid, or how the Velociraptor being bigger than what the encyclopaedia said. Anyhow, it was a good experience.

That night, Father taught me chess notations. It took so long, but I finally managed to reenact a famous chess game which Father had printed out. In fact, I was so tired of looking back and forth from the notations and the board, struggling to pinpoint the coordinates, that I ended up refusing a game with Father. I just wanted to go to bed.

The next few days, I spent reading on dinosaurs, and playing chess. My brother, four-years-old, couldn’t understand the rules of chess, so I just played snakes and ladders with him. He would win almost every time, though. I had horrible luck with rolling the die, while he had excellent luck. My bad luck quickly made me dislike die-based games even at an early game. I had cartoonishly bad luck.

The weekend finally arrived. As I have come to realize through extensive watching of television, the dinosaur cartoon only aired on weekdays. Thus, I just turned on the television, and watched any cartoon that came up. There was this cartoon about a small man in a laboratory. Then, there was another cartoon about a boy with spiky hair, also in a laboratory. Afterwards, there was a cartoon movie, about a bald adult, also in a laboratory. The one thing in common, besides the laboratory, were the cool gadgets they used. I wanted to use them so bad. Thus, I declared my resolve. “Mother, besides a palaeontologist, Hehe”, I began, proud that I was able to say the word correctly after much practice. “I also want to be a scientist,” I said, hand on heart. Mother simply laughed and patted my back.

Thus, the journey began. To be a palaeontologist, unearthing the secrets of the past, and a scientist, creating crazy contraptions. At the same time, I also wanted to beat Father at chess. One day, at school, we were tasked to list down three wishes we would like a genie to grant. My first wish was to make a ‘freeze ray’, like the one I saw in the cartoons. Some time ago, Mother started to really like watching news, not missing any session be it in the morning, afternoon, or night. It was really weird. I asked Father about this, but he told me that I would understand in a few years. This answer just confused me even further. Why the sudden interest? Considering how I got myself suddenly interested in dinosaurs and science-y stuff as well, I reckoned that perhaps something got Mother suddenly interested in news as well.

News was boring, though. There was a lot about ‘elections’, and ‘parties’, the latter not referring to birthday parties, but a group of adults wearing similar shirts. One news report did catch my attention however. It was announced that the world was getting hotter. The instant I heard this; I shot up form my seat. “Is this true, Mother?!”

Mother nodded. She even went further and told me that back when she was a child, they could have sports training at 3pm. My eyes widened comically. To do that now, would spell death by exhaustion, and would also give you a terrible sunburn. The news reported that the ice on the poles were melting, and it was at that point, that I decided, my future contraptions as a scientist would not be used to mess around, not all of them anyway. I would invent things for the good of the world. Hence, the freeze ray.

The first day of the third week was special. It was finally time for some physical education! The way my school worked, was that physical education was split into lessons in class, and on the field. The two types would switch every two weeks. The teacher split the class between girls and boys. The girls played ‘netball’, while we played ‘football’. I think I’ve seen this before on television. Weirdly, sometimes, the sport is also called ‘soccer’. Why would two names be needed for the same thing?

“Sometimes people confuse football with American football,” Father explained. He then showed me this ‘American football’. By sheer luck, after showing the latest results for American football, the news reported the latest results for rugby. “They look the same, but without the armour,” I commented, so confused that at the end of my sentence, my jaw was left hanging.

“Well, there are supposed minor differences, but even I’ll admit, I don’t see them,” Father said, scratching his chin. So, American football is just an altered version of rugby? Why is it even called American football? Only Americans play it? They don’t even use their feet that much!

Back in present, it seemed simple enough; all you had to do was kick the ball around, and make it go into a net. I was wrong. The other boys looked like they were used to playing. When the ball reached me, I pulled my right foot back, and thrust forward.

The ball went sideways. “Huh?” The other boys were quick to scold me, but I was just confused. I waited for the ball to reach me again, but the same thing happened. The ball came to me for a third time, and I tried to carry the ball like I saw the other kids do, but after a few seconds, I noticed that the ball wasn’t even on my feet anymore. It was behind me. After that, the other boys made sour faces at me, and I never received the ball again during that session. I asked politely for the ball, but was just ignored. I ran around a lot, though. In fact, I think I ran the most during the session.

Eventually, I just stopped. This feeling, what was it? I clutched at my heart, and winced, not in physical pain, but pain that couldn’t be felt by the body. My body still had energy, but I just didn’t feel like going. I just watched the boys go from post to post. Was this, sadness? Besides the news, Mother also started to watch what she called ‘drama’. It had a lot of scenes of people crying, walking in the rain, or just staring at the sky, tears falling of their faces. Was this what they felt? I stared at the sky myself, and felt my eyes getting heavy, watery. I watched the clouds move ever so slightly. For the first time, I noticed how beautiful they looked. How have I not noticed this before? I could watch this for hours. Before a tear could fall, the bell rung. I jumped at its sound, almost losing my balance.

One week later, and I found myself at the field again. All week, I had been dreading this, a stark contrast to my eagerness the week before. Two boys stepped forward, and they picked their teammates. From last week’s game, these two were the best players. One by one, the boys on my left and right were picked. Eventually, no more remained. I was the last one left. There were boys shorter than me, fatter than me, but still, I was last. I sighed, but I had been preparing for this.

When we separated into our groups, our captain eyed me with a look of annoyance, like I was some burden. Eventually, I was selected as keeper. Unlike last week where we boys were separated into groups by the teacher, and assigned our roles, this week, we were given freedom to do so on our own accord, hence the selection process. In preparation for this, I’ve been watching football at home. I spread my arms wide at all times. Then, the ball came.

One of the boys dribbled the ball, and the two defenders in front of me rushed to meet him. It looked rather foolish in my opinion, going in at the same time, but as the one picked last, I figured I had no say in this. surrounded left and right, the dribbling boy brought the ball to the right flank, the two defenders following closely. The defender on the far right also joined in the fray, but it was too late. The dribbling boy, which happened to be the opponent’s captain, crossed the ball to the middle of the field, where another boy sprinted forward, unopposed as the central defenders were now at the right side of the pitch. So, it was him against me.

My teammates rushed to my aid, not that they would get there in time. The look on their faces was one of fear, disappointment, and frustration. The opponents on the other hand were already celebrating, and the boy whose feet now held the boy had a little smirk on his face. I leaned forward, ready to pounce. Then, the boy took his shot. From the beginning, the trajectory was clearly toward the left. Like a crab, I shifted to my left, leaned to the side, and leapt. I stretched out my hand, and landed with a thud.

I blocked the ball.

One of my teammates cleared the ball quickly, and breathed a sigh of relief. I smiled. A warm feeling building in my chest. My energy rose. Was this, pride? One of the central defenders looked back at me and gave a thumbs up. I knew it was only polite to return the favour, but I was too shocked, shaking even, at what I just did. Throughout the match, I made several saves, and slowly gained the trust of my teammates. However, my good mood didn’t last long.

The team captain came up to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and told me “Hey, try and catch the ball,” he said, forming a ball with his hands. I nodded. The next time the ball came to me, I tried to catch it, but it slipped out of my hands. In a panic, I rushed at the ball, with the striker also trying to capitalize on this chance. Thankfully, I managed to get a good grip on the ball. Now, I was faced with a dilemma. All this while, I was just punching the ball away. Now, I had to kick it. I picked the ball up and wanted to throw it, but the central defenders insisted that I kick the ball, as time was running out. I kicked the ball.

It landed on the feet of one of the opponents.

It was the opponent captain. He dribbled like crazy, slicing through the midfield. He basically did the same thing as before, going down the flank, and crossing the ball. However, the central defenders this time didn’t rush him all at once. One of them stayed behind. The boy who received the cross now had to go through a defender.

He did so easily.

The ball passed through his crotch. This was a ‘nutmeg’ wasn’t it?

The shot was fire, this time to the right. I did what I had been doing this entire time, but the ball went up too high, too much to the right. My fingers were so close.

TANG!

The ball hit the post. This was the first time this had ever happened, so I was quite shocked by it. The opponent captain reappeared, and slot the ball into the net. Then, the bell rung. The game was over.

That’s it for now. This is actually the first time for me, writing a football match. I thought I did quite alright. Anyhow, I’ll update this as soon as I can. Bye, you.