Arrow

Chapter 1: The Tune Played

Hoping to lift his family's impoverished circumstance, the young boy struggled, he work and work and work. But it was to no avail. He was but just a boy. Nobody took ,him seriously, and some even went as far as deceiving him. The boy was frustrated at his own powerlessness, his helpless and vulnerable state anguish his very core. But, he refuses to give up. If he did, nothing will change. His family will still be hungry, his little sister will envy other kids toys and his mother will toil day and night even endangering her own health just to keep them alive for one day.

As he was walking home, fate played its tune. The boy's destiny started playing a melodic hymn. It was an eventful night as it reminded him of better times.

The boy's eyes sparkled as he looked on to the square box showing moving pictures on the window of an electrical store. Tiny balls of varying colours: red, black, yellow, green, brown, blue, pink and black again reaches the pocket one by one and in a matter of minutes even seconds all the ball was gone. The boy was astonished, he knew this game. He knew how difficult it was for each ball to reach the hole.

He remember the one time his father took him out. He said "you're gonna see how cool your old man is today", there on a relatively small pub, popular amongst the locals, is where he met the game for the first time.

The boy wondered, 'what's so cool about this? He's just walking around a rectangular table striking balls with a wooden stick', what's his dad on about. He was confused. The ball hit another ball and off it goes. At the end, his old man said, "Did ya see that! I was cool, no?" As the boy explained his confusion his old man's face went gloom, then he started laughing. The boy was worried for a second that he made his dad sad; but he knew his Dad was the last person to ever feel down, he would always show him this wide big grin of his, which annoys him sometimes; he was like the bright sun to him.

But he still can't see just why was his dad so smug about the game. Then, his dad lifted him up and place him on a wooden crate just enough space for him to wiggle about but he was not about to do that, his old man gave him the stick and showed him how to strike. He said, become an 'arrow', straight and powerful; never wavering, always moving forward and always hit its target. The boy had no clue what was his dad on about yet again, but he did as he was told.

Right foot was perpendicular to the line of target and the left foot was parallel to it and slightly curve in. Left hand palm facing the table, all fingers close together, and slowly bring the pinky, the ring, the middle and the index finger in; the thumb is facing the sky, it was like a tiny hill with a tree sticking out. Right hand should grip the stick lightly and the stick should land in between the tree and the hill.

He felt weirdly uncomfortable; it was like an amateur dancer trying to keep his posture after he's been dancing for the last 3 hours or so. His muscles were stiff and he couldn't hit the ball right, sometimes the stick would go to the left and sometimes not hit at all. The boy noticed. This is difficult. His dad laughed and laughed at his bad attempt, he felt embarrassed and started pouting. His dad then said sorry while trying to stop himself from laughing, the boy pouted even more. That was then he realised, how cool his old man was. As he recalls how his dad played, the smoothness of his strike as if the stick was an extension of his arm, the posture of his positioning were so relaxed and the sound of the cue hitting its aim was solid. It didn't go "Twing!" or "Twang", it was more like "Tak and Swoosh". At that moment he loved the game and off into the night he played and played with his father. Only later they were scolded by his mom for being so late for dinner.

This was why he was amazed by the man, wearing a weird tie and a coat cut off on the sleeves, on the screen.

He was pocketing the balls one after another like there was a black hole on each pocket. It reminded him of his old man. *Sniffles*. If only you're still here then little Mari can have all the toys she want, if only you're here then Mom can just cook and vainly talk about how good her clothes are, if only you are here then we can go back to that pub and play like we used to, "Whyyy!!!?" The boy screamed his lungs out and tears flooded. He was still but a boy.

Then, something caught his eye. After the man on the screen finish his passionate kiss with his trophy, a beautiful blonde sexy lady wearing knee high black stockings which goes really well with her porcelain skin carried a white plaque. And, no he wasn't struck by the beauty of the big busted lady, as I said he was but a boy. The big white card had numbers on it, six digits starting with 3 then followed by zeros. He couldn't believe his eyes. He wondered, 'is that how much they earn after hitting all those balls'. Then to confirm his doubts, he asked the lady that has been standing beside him for a while now. By the way it is yet another beauty - long silky black hair that goes down to her curvy hips, lips that were as red as a freshly picked strawberries and eyes that glares like a lioness was but a few of her charms.

"Is that the money that amazing guy earned?", the boy asked.

"Oh, so you can see that the man is good, huh? Not many kids are interested in snooker nowadays..."

"I played with my Dad once before, but anyway is that how much that guy earned?"

"So you played with your Dad, huh? Was he good?"

"Yeah he was cool, but I'm the one asking question here, was those numbers his money?"

"Cool, huh? Yeah, they do look cool don't they. Say, are you interested in playing snooker?"

"I can't, my Dad is no longer here. But hey, are you even listening to me?"

At that moment, the boy learned another vital lesson in life - never judged a book by its cover. This lady is bad news; she just doesn't listen. At first glance, she looks smart and kind, but is she just a dumb lady with pretty looks? And she keeps going 'huh?, huh?' What's up with her?

"You can't play without your Dad, huh? Why is that?" the beautiful dumb lady asked.

"I don't have money to go to the pub and I'm busy trying to live. Anyway, I'm not talking to you anymore, you're not even listening to me. See you later dumb lady"

"Wait, what!? Did you just call me dumb, you ought to respect your elderly more. Come back here you smelly dimwit!!!"

The boy then left running as he stick his tongue out mocking the lady - "bleh".

As he got closer to his old rundown house, he can't help but remember the blonde sexy lady - no, sorry - the amazing display of skill that the man showed, the big grin of the man's face as he held his trophy up proudly, and specially the six digit number on that white plaque. The boy thought, 'if I can play as good as that guy can I make our lives better?'