Zaphir - The War of the Magi

The boy, although his weak aspect, was holding the wooden club over his shoulders with apparent readiness. His cap peak turned back and his very focused eye expression were not showing his terrible fear to fail. Not showing too much confidence, he never had been good with the wooden club game, but he was decided to cause a confident impression to that girl who, holding a serene attitude, was watching the game from the other corner. As always, her look was straight and tranquil. However, that look was not enough to bring him enough confidence. Indeed, her look was making him even more nervous and conscious about the contrast between the confidence that she was showing and that shivering taking over his knees.    Suddenly he noticed that her look was toward the pitcher. That moment came and like a prelude brought to him a disgrace. That unexpected downfall made him to pray in silence to all gods he knew, even very sure that gods just don't care about the miserable fate of a simple boy

who plays wooden club games. The pitcher, showing a very angry expression, spited out. His name was Jorjão, a tough and aggressive guy really decided to devastate him. Well, to be the best friend of the only one girl in the group would be a problem. His lack of skills on sports and her popularity made their friendship not understandable to all. The small ball flew fast

toward him but he had the impression that it was coming slowly. The wooden club he was holding was felt by himself as heavy as leadmade and he moved it slower than his perception on the ball's speed. The ball was coming right the way but not in his direction as his own perception. The target was the base mark made of an empty soy oil can located just behind him. He knew that he would have to hit the ball back just before it hits against the base, if not, following the game rules, they would lose the right of keep holding their wooden clubs. This was his last thought. His wooden club crossed the air and the dry-metallic noise of that little ball hitting that empty soy oil can hurt his ears. With that impact, the empty can flew away turning over many times finally falling on the ground bringing down his own dignity too. The younger boys who were watching the game from beside the little field just started boo on him.

—Michel is a sissy! Michel is a sissy! — Together they yelled and shook their ass trying to mimic the way the girls walk.

—Hey fool! Will you not take the ball? — Asked the pitcher. —You will lose even playing with Gabi.

He took a deep breath and walked away.

—Loser! — He listened while turning his body over to bring back the ball. He answered nothing. He just looked over holding his tears of indignation. It was not needed to look for the ball however. He faced Gabriela (Gabi was her nickname). She looked smiling with the little ball in her hand. She pulled her cap over his eyes and gave him a friendly punch to the chin.

— You don't care. It's just a game. — She said. — But we still can win.

Gabriela didn't look like disappointed and he felt such a relief for that. Now the terrible play he had made was not felt so bad. How could she do that? With a simple look and few words, Gabriela was able to transport him from the hell to the heaven. Girls always seemed magic and mysterious beings to him. With a slight sigh and hoping not being in love, he turned away such thoughts. He had enough problems already. It was his turn as pitcher. Gabriela was behind the hitter and was yelling to him supporting words.

— Go Michel! Throw this ball, this guy is a nothing! — Well, Michel could do it. Throw the ball was not so difficult as to hit it back, he thought. Keeping  one eye closed he aimed the waist of that boy who had humiliated  him when he, that boy, was the pitcher. Throw the ball against the hitter's body would make harder to hit the target correctly. If the ball slides toward behind the base, the adversary would lose the right of keep holding their wooden clubs and any possibility to make scores. They could even lose the game if the ball hit the base behind him. Michel took a deep breath and releasing as much energy as he could, he threw the ball. He put so much energy that his elbow made a noise just like a whip. His elbow was so painful that he couldn't notice the hitter jumping to the side and shaking the wooden club. It was a so dry and right stroke which had changed the ball path in the way it did not come in his direction. For protection, he instinctively  covered his face with his hands.

— Take it! — Instantly Gabriela yelled. When the ball stroke against his right hand, Michel felt the impact just like he had been hit by the adversary's wooden club. But although the pain, he held the ball. Victory! With some difficult, he yelled. He got it. It doesn't matter how many scores his adversary had gotten, holding a ball which had been hit was such a definitive for him, the checkmate. He didn't know how but had won the game and returned back the humiliation he had felt before.     Without believing in what had done, he gave a look at ball in his still painful hand. Only when took his eyes away from the ball he felt the silence around him. The boys who had booed on him before were looking at him holding an expression of not believing. Suddenly, already conscious of what he had done, Michel gave them a finger. It was when he saw the hitter coming in his direction holding the wooden club and showing an unfriendly expression. The big guy was a bad loser and what had happened would be a problem for sure. Without feeling himself as a hero, Michel judged better to get out. Within his mind he had planned an escape route, but it was not necessary.   The big one had walked no more than five steps toward him when was hit by a cooking oil can. It didn't cause a serious injure since the oil can was empty. But that was just a message and he knew from who that message came. Turning his body he gave an angry look toward Gabriela.

—So what? — With hands on waist, she said in an inquisitive manner. The kid returned that defiant look but didn't move. He had already tried to confront her before and the result was a bruised eye and the big shame of being hit by a girl. Shame that could be even worse since Gabriela was more than just a little girl. She was one of them and everybody knew that. She always had everyone in the group to support her. Those kids could eat at her hands and would also follow her just like trained little dogs. Seconds later, which for Michel lasted like an eternity, the hitter just released the wooden club and get out the field under the loudest boo.

—Jorjão is a sissy! Jorjão is a sissy! He plays like a macho but is afraid of a girl. —The kids watching the game yelled together until Jorjão disappeared behind the wooden fence built around the vacant field which had served as game field. 

Michel sighed relieved but he was feeling embarrassed for being defended by a girl. His reputation among the boys, not very solid already, would vanish away at once.

— This should not be your business. —Not very sure, he said as she was approaching.

— Of course not! — Gabriela responded with confidence. Trying to find traces of irony in her words he gave a firm look at her, but nothing has found other than her usual confident and resolute attitude.

— But we are partners are we not?”

—Yes. — He answered

— Beyond that, you had been already the hero of the game. Leave a little glory for me. — She said while observing the crowd going away. It was evening and the sunset would happen soon. He just smiled recalling of what he had done. He never would be able to do it again but no one would know about that.

—It was a big game, it wasn't?

—It was just a game. — She said. — But we won! So now, let's go and find the ball for you keep it as a souvenir. Where did you leave it?

Michel had no idea at all. The little field behind the base was obstructed by a very dense vegetation that even as tall as grass, in some spots there were castor beans plants and these ones could reach more than six feet above the ground. Without believing that could be found Michel and Gabriela started to look for the ball. They had lost many balls in there. But Gabriela was not that kind of girl who give up easily and a minute later she yelled with triumph.

— I found it! — She said, keeping her eyes at an yellow spot among the greenness of the grass. On her knees and hands, very carefully and avoiding to move the ball, she opened up a spot among the grass. However, when she touched the ball, she felt something wrong. The ball was hard and cold just like being metal made.

— well, I think I made a mistake. — She said lifting the ball to see it better. The ball looked like the same but there was something wrong. By reflex, Gabriela tried to release the ball but she couldn't. Her fingers just refused to obey.

— What happened? — Asked Michel, not too far from her.

— I don't know. — She answered feeling the ball vibrating in her hand. It was at this moment that something extraordinary happened. Under her eyes that ball seemed to become alive. A pair of eyes looked to her in a insolent manner. After that, an opened mouth appeared showing a tong. 

—Brat girl! — The ball said showing an angry expression. —Come back to Walka! Come back!

— What

— Come back to Walka. — The ball repeated. — Your time here in this world is over.

The ball muted and returned back to it’s normal, a mix of rubber and synthetic fiber and without any sign of the mouth and eyes as was minutes before. In the interim, Michel approached.

— You look like have seen a ghost.

—Did you hear?

— What? For god sake! You are pale like a white bed sheet. What happened?

— I don't know. For a moment I felt like the ball was talking to me.

— Are you serious? — He said ironically. — You must be watching too much cartoons.

— Forget it. — She answered shacking her shoulders. That was her manner to say that the subject was over. Her pragmatic nature would not allow her to waste time with things she could not explain.

— Take your ball and let's get out here.

Michel knew enough about her and he should not to insist. He was almost taking the ball from Gabriela's hand when something called his attention.

— Did you see that?

— What? —The grass just moved. There must be something over there.

— Where? I didn't see anything.

— Over there — He insisted. — That bush.

— It must be a cat. — She said, without being interested.

Michel approached the bush and, suddenly a cold wind started to blow shaking the bushes. Dry leaves and other debris were spirally lifted making hard to see. A piece of yellow sheet just came to his hands and he held it by reflex action.   

— What is this? — Asked Gabriela.

— Nothing. It's just a piece of paper. — He answered trying to read it. —It's about the opening of an old book store at the old market street.

— Such a strange place to open a book store. There is a lot of trash and rats over there. Nobody walks on by that street.

— Here is written that the first visitors will win a gift. The opening is today. Let's go?

— Are you crazy? My mother kills me if I go that place. And yours too!

— Please, Gabi.  We can go and stay there just a little. Nobody needs to know about.

— No! I don't want to get in trouble.

— Are you going to miss such an opportunity to find out some old comics? —  Michel had touched her favorite subject. Her comic collection, inherited from her father, was her passion and she would make anything to increase that collection.

— It's okay. We go there but will be brief. If I can't find anything good, we get out.

— Okay!” “It's getting cold. Better to go at once. I want to get home before the evening.

—That's true. My mother hates when I am late for supper.

Gabriela smiled in a relaxed mood. This she could understand very well. A well defined time to be back home is an important issue for all mothers and hers was just the same.

— So, let's take a short cut toward the marked street by taking the down street.

— Okay. — He answered with relief.

Gabriela said nothing. But Michel knew what she was thinking and even unwillingly agreed. It would be better don't take any risk and avoid to meet Jorjão for while. It would take a long time for that guy forget the game and the humiliation he had undergone. In a hurry, they crossed the fence through an empty space left by a missing board and then they went down by the street besides the field. When they have gotten a good distance from the thicket, a grave noise of light footsteps on the grass was telling them that someone else or something would be around. That thing, whatever it would be, jumped like dancing, screamed and twirled frenetically. Then, the whirlwind suddenly got stronger and arose it above the ground and then the thing disappeared without leaving any trace.

Notes:

This is a translation from Portuguese into English language. Book: Zaphir Author: Gilmar Milezzi Subject here translated: Chapter one as provided by the author Translator: Andre d'Aquino Word