2 The Old Man

A day full of troubles had elapsed, and maybe that day was the worst day of my life because I got a wound from those bad boys, and my parents also fought because of me, although I didn't do anything wrong.

How could I stop other people's discrimination? Those who would rejoice when they saw others suffering from the pain they had caused. What was it in me that they were doing that? Perhaps it was because I was poor and they were wealthy; it might have been because I was nice and kind; or perhaps it was because I didn't fight back.

I was sometimes discouraged from going to school because of those bullies, but I also thought that I could not be successful if I did not continue my studies. How could I help those people who were oppressed by wealthy and wicked ones if I could not be successful? I would rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

My mother might be already in the kitchen. She woke up early every day to prepare our breakfast while my father was still lying in bed. I sprang out of my bed, rolled my sleeping mat, donned my white slippers, and walked towards the kitchen. I wasn't mistaken: my mother was preparing the vegetables to be cooked.

She was in her old coat and fitted jeans. They seemed to fit, but I knew that she couldn't fit into her jeans anymore because she had worn them for many years. And if her size had not changed, then she wasn't human.

I hoped that my mother would not go hard with the thing she did. Though I knew she had other loose clothes to wear, maybe she chose a very fitted rather than a very loose one. I walked near and hugged her from the back, to make her feel how much I loved her and to give her hope. Her untied hairs seemed to creep and tickle my face.

I remembered when I was young and my mother was playing with me. Those games never disappeared from my mind until now. It was confusing to me if she was hiding something, because every time I played with her, her hair was creeping, and it made me laugh as it tickled me.

At that time, I was playing with my mother's hair because I didn't have anyone to play with. When I grew old, it crossed my mind if it was possible that a woman like her could control her hair if she wanted it to do so.

I wasn't an inquisitive boy. Though I had many questions about my family, I kept them in my mind, and after many days passed by, I could easily forget them, especially if there was an opportunity to ask.

She removed my arm from around her and greeted me, "Good morning, son. Do you want to eat something?" She asked while groping the chopping board on the wooden lapboard above her head.

"Good morning, ma. I would eat anything you have prepared. I'm going to the bathroom to bathe myself first," I replied.

"Okay." She chopped the vegetables on the wooden chopping board.

After a few moments, I went outside our house and started walking down the quiet street. My neighbors were cleaning their yards, trimming the tall weeds, and watering the plants.

The street was shaded by tall structures, blocking the morning sunlight. There was a limited amount of transportation in our area: no vehicles, but carriages were going back and forth. Though we were not influenced by the modern world, everyone there didn't feel any difficulty in life, perhaps except for me and my parents.

As usual, the bad bully boys were there again. I wasn't lucky that day, for they were many and large. Laterally, two of them got as close as I expected, then they began pushing me against the hard wall. I tried to punch one of them, but he was so big that he could not feel any pain.

He was going to punch me back when I saw an old man going towards us. He was in old and porous clothes with some stains on them. I looked at him, as if he were mesmerizing me. But I came back to consciousness when the boy slapped my face.

"What are you looking at there, huh?" He furrowed his forehead. "Are you waiting for someone who can help you?"

As I took a glimpse back to where the old man was, I saw him raising his hand, and then, in two shakes of a lamb's tail, the bad boys disappeared from the place. I tried looking for them. They were just around me, but then I didn't know what to feel. They were completely gone.

"Who are you?" I queried, stepping backward. "Please don't hurt me!"

"Don't worry, I will not," he replied. "I'm here for an important reason."

"What is it?" I halted and grasped the straps of my backpack.

"Do you want to be a hero? Do you want to help those innocent people from the bad ones who are oppressing them?" He inquired.

Hero? Can I protect others from the bad guys? "Are you joking?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" He stared at me, and I saw the seriousness in his eyes. He opened his palm and ordered, "Look at this. This is the power that I'm going to give you."

A bluish cloud appeared and floated above his hand, and it mesmerized me again. I came back to consciousness when he closed his hand. I realized he wasn't joking, that he had power, which could make my dream come true, which was to be a superhero!

"Okay, I will accept your offer. I want to have that power. To become a superhero so that the bad guys won't bully me again," I replied.

A devilish smile appeared on his face. His eyeballs were round and white, but he lacked two horns to become a real devil. "I will only give this to you if you agree with my condition," he added.

"I agree with everything. Just give me that power!" I exclaimed.

The old man opened his palm, and the bluish air floated towards me. It entered my ears and nose. I felt pain and it made me look down and grasp my head. There seemed to be something creeping down my veins.

After a few seconds, I felt no pain anymore. Instead, I felt like I was full of vitality. As I looked up, the old man had already disappeared from the spot where he was standing, and I didn't know where he went.