بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
ا سَـــــــلاَمُ عَلَيــْــكُم وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكـَـاتُه
Reiichi pulled his blanket closer. It was
raining lightly on a sweet Sunday morning, and it was perfect. He took a quick
glance at his alarm clock to see it read exactly 6.00 a.m. He smiled as he
curled up in his blanket. In his mind he played his Sunday tentative. Wake up
at 8.30 in the morning, having a nice breakfast; toast and a cup of hot coffee
with a good novel, go cycling around the neighbourhood and watch movie until it
is time for lunch.
He was just about to doze off when a loud voice came yelling into his
ears. “Allahuakhbar…Allahuakhbar…!”
“Urgh…!” He groaned, pressing his pillow closer to his ears.
About 3 minutes later of enduring great pain, he heard someone opened
his door, and flicked on the light. The incandescence seared through his eyes.
Reiichi shut his eyes tightly, cursing under his breath. “Dammnit…”
“Rei…lets pray.” Ren called.
“Go away…” Reiichi spoke softly, hoping Ren to leave. Few seconds later
he felt someone shook his body. This time the voice came more persuasively, a
speck of concern hung at the edge of his voice.
“Rei, are you sick?”
“Just leave me alone Ren, please.” Reiichi replied, his voice was stern
and gave a clear message that further argument is intolerable. He felt a caring
hand ruffled his hair before his room was dark again, the strong smell of
perfume filled the room, suffocating him.
…
When he woke up at 8.30 a.m, he felt happy. The rain had stopped, but
the mist still hung in the atmosphere. The birds sung beautifully in the
morning bliss. He helped himself in the pantry for his sunrise java. The steam
of his coffee immediately condensed in the cold air. He laid a piece of old
newspaper next to the couch and poured a generous amount of cat food. A big,
orange-coloured cat yawned from beside the toilet, stretched and quickly walked
over to Reiichi. He gently caressed the cat before settling down on the couch,
reading his novel.
“Um…Rei, are you free tonight? There will be a programme at the Blue
Mosque, about Palestine and Syria. Before that maybe we could have dinner
together.” Ren asked from his study table.
“Sorry, I have plan.” Reiichi lied without turning from his book. He
took a slow sip from his coffee as his mobile phone beeped. It was Oliver.
Reiichi pushed a few buttons and read the message.
[ Hey Rei, been a long time.
Dinner on me tonight? ]
[ Sure. Why not ] Reiichi deftly worked his fingers on the phone and
pushed the sent button.
...
He remembered Oliver. The last time he saw him was seven years ago.
Reiichi was only a small boy back then. He put up a stool next to his mother’s
favourite rose, clinging to the rusty old fence to watch big muscular people
carrying boxes from Oliver’s house into a big lorry.
He still remembered the smell of morning
glory that coiled around the retaining iron. Oliver was older than Reiichi by a
year. Before he left in his father’s new blue car, he passed Reiichi a note,
along with a small photo of him and Reiichi building sandcastle together during
the previous school holiday. He gave Reiichi a soft smile and said something,
but Reiichi could not remember.
On the same night Reiichi opened the note. It was a drawing of him and
Oliver made by crayon. They were holding hands together and facing a number of
stairs and a big wide door that Reiichi assumed to be shining, considering the
yellow strokes that Oliver drew which emerged from the door. Reiichi had made
both picture and the note as bookmarks for his favourite books. But one day his
father gone berserk, hitting his mom and he burnt all of Reiichi’s books.
“Do you think all of those ridiculous books can feed you? I’m the one
who work day and night just to feed you and that bloody woman!” He shouted and
threw almost anything that he could reach. The photo album hit Reiichi on his
temple, and he felt warm liquid oozed down his cheek, only he could not
remember whether it was blood or his tears. His mother crawled from beside the
couch and hugged him, defending the little Reiichi from any other flying stray
objects. She cried and kept saying the word ‘Allah…Allah’. Reiichi did not
understand.
Oliver was his best friend. They used to play together under a shady
tree next to a football field. Oliver had asked his father to install some
planks on the tree and put up a waterproof canvas so that it could be their
base. Often Reiichi would beat him to the tree every evening, reading his
books. They had carved their names on the tree trunk, symbolizing their eternal
friendship. Oliver could not read so well, but he always asked his father to
buy books for him, and the Oliver would request Reiichi to read it for him.
One day Reiichi came to their base to find that there was a mark made by
spray paint. A red arrow was painted on the wooden plank, pointing at an angle
to which the sun set. When Oliver came he asked, “Did you draw the arrow? For
what?”
“A direction.” Oliver replied short, his face seemed to gleam in golden
colour in the evening sun. A nearby mosque played their usual song over the
microphone, and then Oliver would wash parts of his body with a mineral bottle
he brought from home and stood directly facing his arrow. He stood, bowed, sat
and put his forehead on the wooden plank. He had read something in his actions,
but Reiichi could not follow, despite the fact that he read more books than
Oliver.
After Oliver finished Reiichi asked him, “What were you doing?”
“Praying. Haven’t you seen your parents doing it?” Oliver said.
Reiichi slowly shook his head. “Pray? To who?”
“Well…God, of course.” Oliver replied as he sat next to his friend.
“But why do you need to pray to God?” Reiichi seemed curious.
Oliver frowned. “Well…I’m not so sure. My father told me I need to
pray.”
Reiichi was lost in his thoughts.
…
Realization came hitting him. His coffee had gone warm and the cat had already
finished his breakfast. He curled up beside Reiichi, licking his paw. Holding
the cup in his hand, Reiichi forced the caffeine inside his system. The liquid
swam uneasily inside him, threatening to come back up. Putting the cup on the
floor, he slowly lowered himself into a reclined position on the couch as he
picked up the cat, hugging it closely.
…
