Page 83 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“What’s this?” I said. “Alcohol?”
“It’s gin-lime. You’re gonna like the taste.”
“Sorry, buddy. I don’t drink.”
“Just today,” he said, opening the lid. “It’s gonna subside your leg pain.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Try it.”
My nose crinkled in distaste. It soon warmed my face and ears. “Super strong.” I took another gulp.
“And tasty.”
“Put on your boots,” he said. “Warm-up time.” He tied the laces and dragged me across the ground.
“Get me another bottle of gin, please,” I said.
“Here,” he said. “This should relieve your pain.”
Soon my head whirled. Even Sam’s face blurred before my eyes. “Let’s run,” I said.
“No running,” he said, slowing me down. “Watch out.”
I slipped on a bottle and lay flat. “Ha… ha… I am fine.” I sprang up.
“Easy, Uncle, easy.”
“Yahoo!” I exclaimed as the gin-lime further spun my head. “I am ready to play.”
The match kicked off. The players—both teammates and opponents—blurred before me. Somehow, I
caught the ball.
“Good, Uncle,” shouted Sam from behind.
I kicked the ball across the center and said, “Sam, I can’t see the ball. Everything is reeling. Direct me
when the ball comes, okay?”
“No problem, Uncle. I am right beside you.”
I staggered around the penalty box, trying to trace the ball. I couldn’t.
“Ball, Uncle!” shouted Sam.
I peeked up and down, and to the sides. “Where?”
“Up in the air! Punch it!”
I jumped and punched at it.
“Goal!” shouted the spectators.
“A goal?” I uttered, peering inside the next. “How’s that possible?”
“Damn it!” said Sam and stomped away.
Class attendance was mandatory, but I had to rest. My first-year friend, Chenga Tshering, brought me
meals from the kitchen.
He frequented the canteen for pegs. Tall and dark, he had cock-screw hair, but he was entertaining.
And he played basketball well.
“How is your leg?” he said.
“Still hurts,” I said.
He looked at the wound. “Goodness. It’s stuck!”
“You mean Bandage?” I said. “Yeah.”
“I will be back.” Ten minutes later, he returned with a bucket of warm water and Artemisia leaves
soaked in it. “Let me nurse it.”
As he undressed the bandage, I dug my head into the pillow and shrieked. “Gently, please.”
“Almost done.” He cleansed the wound with the solution and applied the leaves on the surface and
bandaged it. “You should see a doctor.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “It would heal.”
“Better if you saw the doctor. I will go with you.”
“Thank you. I don’t know how I should repay you.”
“What’s a friend for?”
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