The Man He Became

"Ethan! Ethan!".

The teacher called on you!,said Wayne with a quiet chuckle.Ethan now forced to wake up following the mention of the last statement by his friend.

As he rubs the sleep from his eyes,"a bit of drool"drips from his mouth,thereby causing the classroom to erupt in snickers, including the teacher present.

Someone from the back giggles saying"you're in class,not bed!"

The teacher's voice now cuts through the noise,"Pay attention,please."

Ethan now fully awake and aware of his environment now faces the teacher and is met with a disappointing stare".

"I think someone getting an A in napping", says the teacher which causes the room to be filled with muffled laughter.As silence gradually returns back to the classroom,The teacher then tells Ethan to keep standing up for the rest of the class.

While the class is still ongoing,Ethan mind flashes back to the oatmeal he had taken earlier in the day which he feared might cause him slight problems while in class and this made him wonder if the oatmeal was indeed the culprit behind his sudden drowsiness.The teacher who is still in the classroom teaching notices that Ethan is still not present minded and however throws him a quick question.

You!,pointing at Ethan in particular saying"When was the commonwealth established?"

Ethan now fully aware that the teacher isn't impressed with his behaviour lately,struggles to mutter some words which no one could even understand.The teacher then tells him to come to the front and face the entire class,that way he would pay attention and have an idea of his current environment.

When the bell finally rings,signalling the end of classes for that day.Ethan face brightened up because he wondered whether or not this class would take forever.Wayne,his friend who initially woke him up from his slumber rushes up to meet him.

"Dude"

What's up with the recent behaviour?.I thought you loved history classes.Ethan meanwhile just stared at him,not planning on responding to what he just said.

After a brief sigh,Ethan responds saying"lets head home".Wayne who was trying to be helpful all along was annoyed by his response and decided to let him be.

Ethan unbothered, walks down to the Glenmere estate soccer pitch with the sun shining well above his head.

Rusted fences leaned in tired defeat,air filled with the nice smell of chicken and cheese,but none of that mattered to him.

Thirteen years old,dressed in secondhand trousers,his oversized shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked skin.Ethan now races to the pitch with fluid grace that made the game look effortless.He manages to squeeze himself in pitch filled with boys who were stronger,taller than him

With the ball half flat now clung to his feet,a flick here,a shimmy there,a burst of pace and _.

"Goal!"he shouted as the ball made its way past the two demarcated bins.

A ripple of groans and cheers followed.A boy muttered,"this lad is different", while another scoffed,"still got baby legs though".

Ethan barely heard what they said,his chest beating fast like that of drum beats.For him,this was his kingdom,the pitch,the game.For those brief minutes,he wasn't just a thirteen year old.He was someone special born to play.

As the sun sets,others started heading back home,phones buzzed with notifications,dinner was ready,lights blinked across balconies.

Ethan meanwhile stayed back,alone now,juggling the flat ball with tired legs,letting his mind drift to bigger stadium pitches with grass and sounds of fans chanting instead of the normal concrete he is used to.

"Ethan!" a voice called from across

He looked.it was his mom who leaned over the balcony,still dressed in her fast food uniform,visor perched on her head like a crown.Her smile was weary but warm.

"Dinner's ready.come inside,love".

"Coming!" he said,the ball still clung to his feet and juggling it home.

The flat was cramped and looked worn out but clean wallpapers were placed at strategic corners. The television fickle red,always threatening to go black.

A frame picture of Ethan's dad placed on the shelf,receiving more dust than memory.

His mom stirred beans in a dented pot while Ethan went to take his bath and change his sweat-soaked clothes.When he came out,his mom pointed to a plate of beans with toast.She ruffled his hair.

"You score today"?

"Two goals and a nutmeg on Kev,"he said laughing while managing to grinning the beans

Her eyes lit up."show off".

"Can you come watch me next week?We've got a school match and I am starting".

She muttered some words which he couldn't comprehend.

"I try",she said gently.But I've got the night shift probably.

Ethan nodded and took a spoonful of beans.it didn't seem like a decline,not yet.

The front door opened with Darius,six years older,built like a wall,eyes looking tired walking through.His uniform smelled of sweet cologne but wrinkled and stained.

"You're late",Mum said.

"Overtime",Darius grunted,rubbing his knee.

"How is your leg"? Ethan asked.

Darius replied,"still busted.like my career."

Silence followed.

"Dreams don't pay rent", Darius muttered heading to his bedroom.

Ethan watched him go.He took the spoon and forced the remaining spoons of beans into his mouth and dropped the plate on the kitchen sink.

Later that night,Ethan lay in bed,the flat ball still curled beside him like a faithful dog.He stared at the ceiling,sleep not forthcoming.

He imagined the stadium in his mind,with the floodlights shining brightly on his face.Thousands of fans roared his name.cameras flashed.His boots well tied up.He ran to the corner flag,arms raised in triumph.His mum not in uniform,full of smiles from the Vvip stand.

"Ethan Carter has done it again!".an imaginary commentator's voice echoed in his head.

From the next room was Darius on a phone call,talking loudly.

"I could have made it,fam.if Dad hadn't got sick.

If I didn't have to drop everything.I would be good.Really good."

Ethan now turned over to the ball and said."I'll make it.I have to."

By dawn,he was back outside again.This time all alone.He set up a makeshift course with bricks and bins.

Each dribble,each sprint,each pivot.This was how he's gonna make it.

An elderly neighbour leaned out her window.

"Still at it boy"?

"Yes,Miss Lesley"?

She smiled."You freeze your bum off".

He chuckled."Worth it".

A man passed by,delivery bag with him.Stocky,eyes weathered.

"You're up early,"the man said,watching him dribble past the bins.

"Always,Ethan replied, panting.

"You've got good feet though".The man said,But you gotta keep your hips low when you turn.

Like this,he demonstrated a pivot.Ethan copied,nodding.

"Name Mo",the man said introducing himself,played for Sheffield back in the day,Not long enough to matter,but long enough to learn what it costs."

"You were a pro."?Ethan asked?

Yh.Then life happened."

He eyed Ethan for a second.

"Talent the start lad,The rest pain and patience".

He turned to leave,muttering,"Maybe this one got the fight."

Ethan stood alone now,his body already filled with sweat.The sun gradually setting.The city was waking up.

He picked the ball up and turned west,Wembley wasn't visible though,but he knew the direction.He could feel it.

"One day".he said aloud.

And he began juggling again,feet tapping,heart beating fast.