January 24, 2003
The game was a very energetic one.
Everybody played with determination. Each played to impress the others. The comparisons and competition that has long existed amongst the players was evident - clearly noticed as they played. Really, they had fun. Their friendship was great and things could have been better but for the comparing, competing spirit…
Tim and Duncan, very close to each other walked to their homes, gracefully - together. They lived a stone’s throw from each other and have been buddies for years.
“This is one of the best sweats I have had in weeks”, commented Duncan.
“I was just about saying that”, Tim replied with a sense of satisfaction and an air of accomplishment in his voice.
“It was awesome. I enjoyed the intense battle. I really did have fun”, he added.
“My back hurts”, said Duncan as he attempted to twist and turn, seeking to get a little relief. “I wish I had a lady, a pretty damsel to massage me after a cool bath”, he added rather quickly with a sad look on his face.
Tim smiled as he spoke, without entertaining a second thought: “I’ve got Anna to massage my body but that would be tomorrow. She promised to come by me. And besides, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about some recent developments.”
“Which Anna?” The question came from Duncan without delay. A look of anger tinged with jealousy was clearly written all over his face. But before a response came, he got a call on his cell. He excused himself and walked to a nearby light pole. He leaned towards the pole, resting his back.
Tim stood across the street, waiting patiently. He felt his heart beating. He prayed silently for calm and understanding to prevail. Why did he not speak to his dear friend about Anna before now? He was always procrastinating. What on earth even caused him to mention her name? What in this world moved him to talk about her coming over by him? A thousand questions ran through his now disturbed mind. He prayed once again for calm, hoping that Duncan would apply tact and tolerance.
“Who was it that called?” Tim was trying to avoid the “question”. He sought to change the topic. But Duncan seemed not to have heard his question as he asked again to know who “the Anna” was. His head said to his heart that it had better be “another Anna”.
The Anna he knew quite well was his ex-girlfriend. He had gone through a tabanca experience. She left him for someone else - Duke, his cousin. It was a big blow to him. He struggled earnestly to get it over with, though unsuccessfully.
High hopes flooded his soul when she broke up with him after a couple of months of ‘adventure’. She became single and available. He made advances at her but she would have none of him. She didn’t want a reunion. She bluntly refused a make-up. Pressed for reasons, she opted to say nothing but that her love for him simply disappeared and has refused to come back. “Maybe, I never really loved you in the first place”, she would tell him.
Tim sensed a quarrel and possibly a fight could break out. He pleaded for calm. He suggested they sit in a nearby park where he would “explain”. But his troubled friend would not comply. Duncan upheld that he (Tim) could very well speak as they walked home.
Having no choice, Tim summoned some courage and proceeded to state his case. It wasn’t an easy task. He remarked on how he’s been trying to inform Duncan about the “recent developments”.
“It’s Anna, your ex.” Tim spoke sheepishly.
Immediately, Duncan blasted: “why would you do such a thing knowing fully well I still love her and ‘been trying to get back together with her?”
“But she would have none of you. Besides, it’s three years since you guys broke up or rather ......since she left you. And by the way, we’ve been dating steadily for three weeks now…”
A little boldness was building up in Tim as he spoke. He believed he had a very valid point. He proceeded to declare that Duncan should wake up and face reality. It was high time he moved on. It was high time he found love elsewhere. He had always told him to move on, but to no avail.
“She had betrayed you. She is no good; forget about her.” He would always say. But in the process of time, he had begun to develop a strong liking for her; she had begun to develop a strong liking for him…
Duncan felt bad, battered, bruised and betrayed. He couldn’t figure out why Tim would do such a thing. As far as he was concerned, there was no legitimacy in his friend’s actions. Though it’s been three years, ‘good reason’ demanded that he stayed away, at least for his [Duncan’s] sake. All the respect he had for him flew away - went out the window and as it were, within the twinkle of an eye.
First, it was his cousin, Duke. Now - his great buddy, Tim. “What the heck is going on?” he thought. He wondered why Anna would even venture to say “yes” to “them”. The green-eyed monster was now getting the better of him.
On realizing the downtrodden state of his dude, Tim was moved with pity. Shame came on him. He drifted a little bit closer, though carefully. He sought to dissuade him from any thoughtless, reckless actions. He knew quite well that his long-time friend was prone to “sheer stupidity” sometimes because of his emotional instability. Issues had to be resolved. Old and new scores, settled. They had to dialogue with an open mind and reach a compromise with the unexpected prevented and the friendship, saved.
“What was hidden under the rug”, Tim said, “we should pull out and confront, with an ounce of prevention if possible, a pound of cure if we must.”
But Duncan was too heartbroken to listen. He would engage in discussions no further. Tim stood, confused. The whole camaraderie that existed between them seemed to have collapsed. Nobody thought their relationship with its youthful exuberance and [all] the cliché surrounding it, could ever arrive at a dead end.
The “Paul is dead” - like controversy loomed in their minds. There was an unspoken feeling of fear that it was over. It was finished! Tim was determined to save it. Duncan cared less…
They both walked on in silence, hearts pounding, and thoughts racing. Soon, they would part ways. They approached a little bush path. Soon, they would reach the end, the end of the path. Duncan would turn left, Tim, right. And in less than 5 minutes, each would be in his home.
The leaves on the trees swayed gently, helplessly under the influence of the cold night’s breeze. The darkness looked dead. The atmosphere seemed to have lost its glow, its refreshing aura. The moon hung in the sky in vivid abandonment. Life was at a standstill, so to speak.
Then, all of a sudden - seemingly from nowhere a little, sharp pain hit Tim in his stomach. His appendix cried for relief. His surgical appointment with the family physician was due in three days.
“I should have listened to Mama and rested at home”, he said in his heart. He rebuked himself for agreeing to “bounce ball” when Duncan came calling. He wished he had listened. Bacchanal would have been avoided. He wished he could turn back the hand of time…
“There’s gat to be a way out”. He could hear his inner voice of hope. Abruptly, he stretched out his arms towards Duncan, asking him to stop and listen to what he’s got to say.
“Enough!”, barked Duncan.
But Tim insisted. He got a stern warning for an answer:
“If you dare touch me again, you’ll be sorry.”
Tim reached out again, pleadingly. But he got a slap, then a shove. A little struggle ensued. Blows were exchanged. Both ‘friends’ found themselves in the bush.
It wasn’t long though. Duncan hopped out and walked home briskly, not caring to look back.
Shortly afterwards, Tim struggled to his feet and wobbled home. He went straight to his bed - his stomach writhing in pain.
* * * *
Tim Wayne was an only child. His mom, though of humble means, did all she could to make him happy and comfortable in life. In his early childhood, he enjoyed the privilege of receiving some training/skills like music lessons, swimming lessons and computer literacy. She even made it her duty to take him to basketball games - his most favorite sport.
He was her pride. He was her joy. He was all she had, Mr. Wayne having died at work, in a factory accident when he was 2. She made sacrifices to see that he got a college degree. He graduated (with honors) with a B.A. in Accounting and secured an enviable job with Johnson & John, a prominent accounting firm…
It was 8 a.m. Tim was still in bed! Mrs. Wayne found that very surprising.
“This is very unlike him. Is he off duty today?” She pondered. She had little time to think. She was running late herself. She sipped her coffee from her fancy, trendy looking plastic container as she rushed out of the house.
“When I come back, we would talk”, she murmured to herself.
She would come, at 8 p.m. (as usual) and meet him there, a lying log still in bed - motionless…
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