Page 17 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“Stop it!” blurted Penjore. “You rogue, stop it.”
“What’d you say?” He shoved Penjore. “You jerk!”
When Penjore burst into tears, my blood frothed. “Hey Chimmi, watch your hands.”
“Another scrawny Charlie.” He swaggered toward me. “It’d be wise not to make more of an enemy of me, idiot.”
He knocked me hard onto a heap of rubbish. “You heard what I said?”
In a fit of anger, I picked a stone and lunged at him. “You damn brute,” I said.
He unbuttoned the shirt. “Come on, hit me here.”
Penjore winked at me from the side. As desperately as he wanted, I dived and clasped Chimmi’s legs. Penjore
butt-headed Chimmi’s chest. And the moment Chimmi fell on his back, Penjore scrambled onto him and held his
hands against the ground. Chime squirmed hard to get free, but we held him firmer.
“Drat!” he said. “Let go of me!”
“Penjore, don’t,” I said, puffing. “He would kill us.”
“I will break every piece of bone in your body, you wretched,” blurted Chimmi.
My heart thudded as I thought of the ramifications. “We must not free him, Penjor.”
Penjore grunted as he gripped Chimmi’s hand. “Yeah, I won’t.”
Half an hour passed. A woman carrying a baby on her back appeared from nowhere. “Let go of him.” She
shoved Penjore and dragged me away. “What do you think you are doing? Kill him?”
“What have you done?” I shouted, running for my life. “He would kill me now.”
After a short distance, Chimmi grasped my shirt and tossed me onto the ground. “How dare you?” He hopped
onto me and biffed my nose. “Don’t you ever mess with me!”
Blood oozed from my nose. “Help, help! Dad!”
Chimmi ran away.

***

Real football was rare and expensive. It cost around two hundred, which was my dad’s half salary. So, my friends
and I used old socks to make a ball. We filled in with the crumbled paper and stitched the outer layer of the socks.
The rectangular sloppy field behind the hospital building would be occupied, every evening. On weekends, we would
occupy the ground from as early as 6:00 am to dusk. Legs clattered, and we limped, but the game went on for the
entire afternoon without a rest.
“Hey, Dorji,” said the team captain. “We have a football match in the afternoon.”
Pricking my ears, I said, “What time?”
“3:00 pm sharp,” he said. “Report to the ground before twenty minutes.”
“I would,” I said. “Thanks for the information.”
Opponents wore a uniform. The match went uninterrupted until I kicked in Netenla’s shin.
“Ouch!” He threw himself onto the ground. “Watch your steps, moron.”
“I am sorry,” I said. “It was unintentional.”
Netenla endured in silence. He fought no one before, but his sudden burst of anger came as a shock.
With a vindictive glee in their eyes, his teammates shout his name. Even Jaga—my father’s colleague’s son—
supported him. “Netenla! Netenla!”
Netenla gawked and bounced around, fists punching the air like a UFC fighter in the ring.
“Wait, Netenla,” I said, stepping back from him. “I can explain.”
His swift punch whooshed right across my face, almost scratching my nose.
“Wait, Netenla,” I said again, dodging his punch. “There’s no reason we should hurt one another.”
He didn’t speak but attacked me when his supporters broke with feverish excitement.
“Come on Netenla, beat him up,” they shouted.
Netenla soon exhausted. He puffed but kept attacking me.
My veins throbbed. “Stop it, Netenla. I have had enough!” I wrestled him to the ground, climbed onto his body,
and held his hands. “Let’s not fight, I surrender. Okay?”
He squirmed to get free, and when he couldn’t, the enthusiastic cheers of his supporters died. They watched us
wrestle.
The more he squirmed, the tighter I gripped his hands. I felt a sharp pain in my chest. “Ouch!”
“Come on, Netenla,” said someone. “Get up, beat him!”
Sweat drifted from his head and he puffed as he dug his teeth deep into my skin. Excruciating, but I didn’t let go.
He bit me harder.
“Ouch!” I said. “Okay, I give up.” I freed his hands, and I sprang back. “No more fight, please.”

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