THE GATE KEEPER (3 page)

I
came out of the meditation. I straightened my hands towards the floor. Then I
quickly allowed my upper body weight to lean forward, absorbing the whole
weight of my body and cordoning a quick summersault. Out of the split I firmly
stood still.

I
stood in front of the window and look outside. I saw a man in black facing the
house, except that his eyes seem shuts and yet he stood still as if he was
watching me. I brought my face closer to the window. I put my fingers through
the window blind and allowed the slats to open wider. I stared at the old man’s
face under the bowler’s hat.

I
wonder if he was normal.
Perhaps he was a psycho that my mum has warned me
of,
I thought
.
In my linear perspective I considered this as
abnormal. Then his eyes opened. He stared at me that it brought shiver to my
spine. Unexpectedly and in shock I fell backward onto the bed.
Was he the
madman as mum
lectured?
my
mind fired
troublesome doubt. He didn’t even bothered if the neighbours and the passers
were looking at him.

Unafraid,
I pulled my act together. I stood up and look outside. The stranger was still
there. He put his hand in his pocket and took out a letter while he still
stared at my window. He slowly put it in the letter box near him. He walked
away and turned around. He looked at my window and the letter box as if he was
sending me a message. Then he was gone.

Later
I came down the stairs and into the dining room after I got dress up for school.
On the small rectangular kitchen counter which separate the tiny kitchen and
the living room laid a plate of English breakfast. I approached the three
modern bar stool which was near the counter.

The
full plate of a fried egg, baked beans, sausage and a toast became
irresistible. Its smell drove uncontrollable saliva through my mouth. My
stomach was set on fire by the acetic acid that craved for it. The hunger was
beyond my control. For a moment I felt powerless. I greedily pinch the low fat
brown bread and baked beans, while the other hand got hold of my school bag
which was on one side. I gobble it down.

‘Easy
tiger,’ a soft voice from my right said.

I
could recognise it as the voice I was raised with. It was my mother and she was
sitting in the corner on one of the sofas in the living room. The expression on
her face wasn’t normal though. She seems to have been in a shock.

‘Are
you alright mum?’

‘Yes,
Indeed I am. Indeed I am....Indeed, something that I could not understand happened.
Do I sound crazy?’

‘You’re
freaking me now.’ I said and paused as I reflect on what she has said. ‘What is
it mum?’ I asked.

‘The
man I met this morning.’

‘Yes.
What about him?’ 

‘Didn’t
you saw him Phil?’

Her
face and eyes were unrecognisable. Her face looked pale and her eyes were
focused on the frame photos of me on the wall. She seems puzzled. I wondered if
I was losing her.

‘Are
you alright mum?’

‘Yes,
I am.’ Mum responds as she looked at me.

‘The
man, what was it about him?’

‘Oh
the man, yes... his face was a cross breed between your father and
you....Except....Except... ’ She said as she faced my photos at her left side
on the wall.

Meeting
that strange man had left her daze for some weird reason. I had to know what
had happened. ‘Yes, except what?’

‘Never
mine, except that it felt like a déjà vu. The fact is that the truth made me
feel uncomfortably sociopath.’ Mum said gloomy.

I
froze for a while wondering if the woman I cherish and love was going mad. I
tried to make sense of her puzzling words. I couldn’t read in between the
lines. I had to seek for more answers to piece the jigsaw together.
After
all, was it a
jigsaw or was I too young to comprehend complex talk from
my genius mother,
I pondered.

‘Just
try me, mum. You can trust me with those types of matters.’ I assured my mum.

Sensible
answers were all I wanted to hear from my mother. After witnessing the old man
staring at my room I wanted to know what I was up against. Mum didn’t neither
blink nor look at me. Her eyes were still glued to the photos on the wall.

I
crunched and swallow the last piece of sausage I had in my mouth. In one way or
another I knew that I had to get an answer from my mother. I stared at her and
thought,
even if I had to bribe my way for answers I will.
I kneel in
front of her. I stare at her and she slowly turn towards me. I gave her a hug.
I gave her a child to mother peck on one side of her cheek.

‘I
love you mum.’

‘Yes,
I know my son. Same from me as well,’ She responds as she smile at me.

I
stood up and head for the main door. I walked out. I closed the door behind me.
Then I saw myself face to face with the mail box. A part of me wanted to seek
for answers down the rabbit hole. The cowardice side of my character wanted to
pull away from it. My mind laid at rest on a fifty-fifty chance of either
opening it to seek for answers or simply ignoring it.

Still
standing in front of the mail box I took a decision. I open it. I allowed the
light to shed its way in. Precaution came first. I look at the inside and
slowly pull out the only foreign object inside of the box. I examine the letter
closely. It was a normal letter with two stamps on it. Underneath it was my
name and surname.

Shocked
and confused I wondered;
how did he know it?
Who is he really? Where
does he come from?
I was getting late for school. I put the letter in my
back pack and took off.
 

4

Michael
was well off than the rest of the boys in his community. He came from an upper middle
class background. He felt proud of his status. His mother who was a manager at
a firm married his stepfather who practiced law by trade. Mat, his younger
brother of five years of differences left for school with his dad.

Deep
down, he felt as if something was missing. His abusive biological father had
always made him felt inferior. The need to be the best at everything has been
drilled into him. His old man would drink heavily, curse, made him felt useless
and strictly subdue him with agonising lashes of belt.

The
abusive memories went as far as he could remember. At three it was quite vivid
recollection without reasoning. At four his mind forcefully adapt with the
frightening experience of his father’s nasty behaviour. Self-awareness between
the bad and the good became apparent though he was too young to make sense of
moral reasoning.

The
2008 financial meltdown had cost Joe Larker his job. He had turn towards the
devil’s toxic liquid for comfort. Alcohol became his best friend. It turned him
against his family, against his will to love and hope of love. His role as a
dad diminished to an abusive drunk and wife beater. At four years old Michael
Larker had witnessed the domestic battle which had helped to keep his parents
apart. Then the end of his mother’s relationship to his father came to an end.

Mrs
Larker had enough of the authoritarian life. Being beaten by her husband, she
felt that she had lost her dignity as a wife and a woman. She had no option
except to file for divorce. Six months down the road she had a fresh start. She
became Mrs Reed. Molly knew that Mr Reed was a responsible and a sensible man.
He had proven worthy when he sorted the legal issues of her marriage as her
lawyer. He was a lady’s man. She was willing to have him the instant he
proposed. It was all in the interest for a better life for her and little
Michael.

Molly
knew that one day her son will come to terms with the truth. Accept, adapt and
embraced happiness from their new found family. At five years old her son
excitedly accepted the arrival of his first brother, Mat.

 
        From the window of his room Michael
had learn to appreciate what his mother and stepfather had done for him. His
ego to stand out from the crowd has been eating him from within. His envy to be
the best and a child worth having as a son was his ultimate desire. Feelings he
could not resent.

He
could not let it go.

 
        He watches Mat and his adoptive
father through his room’s window as they leave in a luxury black car.

‘Michael!
Michael! Wake up! Time to go to school!’ his mother’s voice echoed from
downstairs.

‘I’m
awoke mom.’

The
teenager grabs his bag and file. He ran down stairs. He head for the main door.

‘Michael,
you’ve forgotten your pack lunch.’ His mother said.

Michael
came to a halt and turn to his mother who came out of the spacious kitchen from
his left. Mrs Molly Reed hands over the pack lunch to her son.

‘I’ve
got your favourite which is a sandwich. An apple and a packet of mango juice
are what you’re shall be having as extra with it.’

He
stares at his mother for a while as she walks towards her with his pack lunch.
Michael thought of what she had said. The clue for the sandwich click and he
knew what it was. Slice Bread with lettuce, tomatoes and tuna in mayonnaise.

The
sound of her stiletto’s shoes echoed the kitchen as she walks towards her son.
Molly had let her hair down, done her face up and match it with her clothes.
Matching her shoes she wore a skirt of Red hemline. A manageress dressed for a
kill. Her employee had described her as the devil in disguised as she could
fire those that mess up.

He
knew how her mother can be when things doesn’t turn out the way she want. She
would go out of her way to make it happen. Michael had overheard her discussing
her reaction to the negativity from work and he had come to terms that he had
inherit the determined character from her mother. She never gave up no matter
how hard the obstacles she came across.

‘Thanks
mom, but I’m not a kid anymore.’ 

‘Aren’t
we all?
after
we start wiping our mess by our self.
You’ll still be my little boy even when you’re married. Remember you’re not yet
a man.’

         
‘I’m seventeen years old mum. Old enough to be a man....’

‘No,
my son, old enough to be a teenager and though you’re going to be a young man
next year, you still got a lot to learn. Oh, and you’re still going to be my
little Michael.’

Michael
grabs the brown pack lunch from her mother, gives her a peck on her chick and
says, ‘Thanks mum.’

He
walks away, towards the main door.

‘Michael.’

He
turns around.

‘To
be successful you got to be the best and being the best is all about hard work.
Nothing comes easy in life if you don’t devote yourself to a positive and
successful disciplinary ideology, you’ll fall. This world isn’t a fairy tale but
a materialised one and everybody are accountable for their own action. ’

He
walks backward to the main door. With the file underneath his arm pit and his
school bag on his back he raises his right hand up. ‘Bye mum and thanks for the
tip,’ he said.

Michael
took note of her mother’s words of wisdom. He knew that she wanted him to take
life seriously and not for granted. A goal they both shared as mother and son.
Reaching the zenith of his height to honour the unforeseen goal was a struggle.

He
turns to the main door and make a light jog through it to a sport’s bike parked
in the alley way. The teenage boy got on it. He takes the head gear off the
bike’s engine and rest it on his lap. Michael thought of his mother’s words of
wisdom. 
Successful disciplinary ideology,
he thought as he watches
at his mother staring at him through the kitchen window.

A
discipline ideology isn’t necessarily a successful one.

It’s
the way we mend it to our advantage that we achieve or fail our goal…

I
prefer to mend mine…

I shall
mend mine and I will be victorious.

I want
rest….Till I become the best.

He
thought of the successful Phil which he had forced himself to befriend with. He
thought of the hard work he had to put in to know him and to learn how to be
better than him. His anger built in but he hides it.
Phil was the only
little cockroach in my way,
he thought
.

He
smiles and wave at Molly. Start the bike’s engine. He wears his helmet. Michael
roves the engine twice. Then he rides out to the main road and head for the school.

I
managed to reach the school on time. Most students did their own thing. Some
came on the school bus, some in their own vehicles while some walk the few
metres like me. Some were in groups and some came solo. We all head for the
main college door.

As
I closed in the crowd of students I became noticeable. A boy dress in a grey
hoody top and track suit bottom join the crowd. He raises his V shape fingers
in the air towards me. I immediately return the same gesture to demonstrate
peace. I walk the stairs up to the main door of the college through an endless
traffic of students. We all walk in with the flow.

Inside
the flow of some of the crowds slightly change while some reverse the other way
round to accommodate their time table. The class rooms began to fill in. I walk
by a group of young ladies. I couldn’t resist the temptation of not looking at
them. They whisper with each other as I walk near them.

One
of them caught my attention. She was a pretty teenage girl with the figure of
an eighteen year old model. She seductively plays with her long and dark hair
as she stares at me. I glance at her attractive and short cheer leader’s skirt
which matched perfectly with her tight top.

Her
friends was dress in a similar fashion but of distinguish colours. How I wished
that she was mine.

‘Phil…’
Hailey said in a sarcastic and seductive voice.

All
of her four friends wink at me at the same time. I became puzzle. I look into
her beautiful brown eyes but I remind myself of her special treatment. I had
hated her for what she had done to me in the past but yet part of me was still
craving for the love I could never had. Her love was all I had ever wanted.
Hope and patience became my best friend.
Maybe she’ll change
I convince
myself like I had always done.    

I
bump my head into something and I fall back. Laughter echoes the hallways and I
immediately stand up. I had always been nervous around the ladies.

‘You
better watch where you going Phil as you never know who you might bump into.’
Hailey sarcastically said.

Then
Hailey and her friends left as they giggle and gave out uncontrollable laugh.
In front of me the tallest and biggest teenager, stands in my way. It was Tony
and he was one big block. For a teenager he had the body of an adult body
builder. He was a bully who psychologically and physically torments the weak
ones. Keeping up appearance through an audience was his priority.

‘Yes,
you better watch where you going pal.’ Tony grimly joked in the light of his
audience.

Nobody
laugh but instead most kept quiet and remain attentive.

His
face was mean and fills with anger. I try to evade him by walking the opposite
way but he blocks my way with his gang of five footballers from the college
team. His football buddies were quite the same height as me.

He
points his finger at me and said. ‘You got some nerve to stare at my
girlfriend. Keep away, I’m warning you. Next time you stare or talk to her I
will smash you to the ground! Moron like you does not deserve someone like
her.’

‘Listen
butt head, one, I can stare at anyone I want. Two, there’s no law that prevent
me from speaking to anyone, especially her, just because you think you own
her.’ I fired back.

Tony
immediately closed his fist firmly and cocks it all the way near his face. Two
of his friends grab him by his massive fore arms before he had a chance to
release the blow. Another two seize the other hand while the last one dress in
gothic style tries to calm him down.

‘Tony,
it’s not the right place. Coach is in.’ His friend Joey said as he turn his
head and face the main door down the hall.

‘Ok
I’m cool, let me go.’ Tony said as he stares hard over my shoulder through the
group of students he had brought to a halt.

I
look at them waiting and preparing my defence. I was ready for it. My training
had always prepared me to take control of the action and defuse it.

Tony
walks backward with his team of tugs. He points his fist to his face and point
a finger at me. Then he point two fingers towards his eyes and point it at me.
I walk in the same direction as I was meant to go towards him and to my locker.

The
bullies push on through the crowds who disperse in the hall. Coach Larson walk
among the crowd without realising what had happened.
I had been warned
I
thought
.
The first sign from Tony was that he’s going to smash my face.
The second one, I could simply translate it as
he is watching me closely.