Two Days to Remember

            by Adnan Shah

 

            It was hard being a kid in Pakistan without getting in trouble, or at least for me it was. When I was eight years old, I was in the third grade. I hated going to school but I was forced to go anyways. Why couldn't my mom understand that I hated school and that I would have preferred to do something else. When school was out, my friends and I would run home. We would eat and meet somewhere so we could play. Just as football is the number one sport played  in America, Cricket is the number one sport played in Pakistan. You can’t be a Pakistani if you don't know how to play Cricket. That’s exactly what we would do almost everyday after school.  Where does homework come in to this? Well, I wouldn't do my homework. I knew that my teacher wouldn't call my house. So the only consequence I had to face was being hit by the teacher. There were no report cards sent home. I had no reason to care about school.

 

On a hot Friday when we got out of school. Let me tell you that when I say hot I mean sizzling hot. The weather in Pakistan is not like the weather in the Bay Area. Like in Spain, people take a midday nap, so do people in Pakistan. That meant my friends and

                                                           

I had the streets to ourselves. We were bored and we were looking for fun. My friend Camran said, "Why don't we go to the beach?" The first thing we wanted to do was cool off.

"How are we going to get there?" I asked. " We have no money."

"Well there is always a way to get around free."

"How?"

"The back of the bus."

Our only option for transportation was not the back of the bus but rather outside the bus. This is something you'll never see in the U.S. My friends were all taller and older than me ages 10 to 13.  My best friend Camran was 12. He had dark skin, black eyes and long thick black hair that would point every direction.  "Well I never have hung on a bus while it was moving." I said to my friends. "You guys are crazy you could get killed."

 

"Come on man stop being a chicken."

Even though I was scared I wanted to do it to fit in.

 

We were like a gang, mugging the neighborhood kids on our way to the bus stop. Kicking cans and raising dust just like in the movies. When we got to the bus stop my friend Camran said, "When the bus starts to move just hop on the back and hang on. By the way, don't let the driver see you." Like they said: it was simple, but not for me. I had to stretch my whole body to just reach the rails. The ride was terrible or bumpy. The road was uneven and there were potholes everywhere. It was like we were on a rollercoaster.

                                               

After a mile or two my hands started to sweat and I lost my grip. In a blink of an eye I was flying off the bus. Next I heard cars' brakes squeak and I was knocked down to the ground. I heard someone call out "Come here you brat!". I got up and ran because I didn't want to get in trouble. My leg was bruised, but I wasn't seriously hurt. I still hadn't learned my lesson.

                                                           

I caught up to my friends at the next stop. "What happened?" they asked.

"Oh,  well my hands slipped and  I fell of the bus. Damn it what else do you want to  know? Didn't you see it?" 

" Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Sorry for yelling at you."

 

I felt like the journey would never end. When we finally got to the beach, we were ready to go into the water. The breeze felt so good on my face, arms, and legs. It was like I was standing in front of an air conditioner or a ten-foot fan. I could smell the salty water and could see the heat coming out off the sand produced by the baking sun. Walking on the hot sand was like walking on a thousands needles.

 

I felt embarrassed because of the way everyone looked at me. Without the shirt I even looked smaller. No matter what, I was tough, or at least I thought I was, because of the incidents that happened earlier.

 

                                                   

I wasn't a good swimmer, but my uncle who worked on a port would sometimes take his son and I swimming. The water was so relaxing that it made me forget all about what happened earlier. I was having a good time.

 

"Who wants a challenge?" my friend asked.

"I do!" said one of my friends. "I do!" said the others.

"Oh shit I know where this is going." I thought to myself

"Okay" I Said.

                                                                       

"The person who swims the farthest wins three hours of Arcade."  Said one of my friends. 

What the heck, I had to win so I joined in. Not only would I look cool because everyone was doing it, on top of that there was a prize to win.

 

"On your mark, get set go!"

In my head I kept on telling myself that I had to win and teach these fools a lesson they would never forget. I had a pretty good start, but one by one everyone started passing me.

 

Five minutes later I found myself struggling for my life. I was pulled down by the water. It felt like I weighed more than a thousand pounds. It was like something in the water was pulling me down. I started to panic: I was so scared, that I swallowed the salty water. It was like swallowing a gallon of tears, but only the water tasted even more bitter.

                                                             

I didn't care. All I wanted to do was to be on land. After struggling for a minute or two, I somehow got to the surface. I just got out of the water and waited for my friends. When they were done. All of my friends came laughing at me because of what happened. I just told them that I got tired and couldn't swim further. It was a nice excuse but I knew they understood the truth.

 

I didn't know my way back home, this meant I had to go home with  them. It was around 8:00 p.m. when I finally  got home. I didn't know what was in store for me. I got  a whopping for it because my sister told that I was gone and was no where to be found. I asked my mom why I was the only one to get a whopping. She said, " You are young

and that you are not supposed to be going to places without permission."                      

 

The next day I was awarded the prize. Not because I won or that my friends felt sorry for me. " Why are you guys giving me the prize?" I asked. "I didn't even win."

"Just take it. You will remember." Said my friends.

"What do you mean I will remember?"

 

            Before the arcade we wanted to eat. "Where do you guys want to go eat?"

"How about we go to Pak-curry."

 

The restaurant wasn't even that far it was just two blocks. When we got there I ordered meatballs cooked in spicy soup, which is called kofta-curry. It comes with Nan

                                                           

 covered with butter and chopped garlic and sprinkled with parsley. To drink I ordered mango lasi which is made by grinding mango with a low concentration of water and sugar so it can be thick. We ate as if we had not eaten for the past week. By the time we were done each person had left about a thousand crumbs.

 

After we were done at the restaurant  it was time to head to the arcade. As I stepped into the arcade the other kids were in their own little world, I would be another one of those kids in a few seconds. The surrounding sound of missiles exploding and of race cars all sounded familiar. If I didn't hurry and put the token in I would  go crazy . 

 

"Who wants to race me?" I shouted.

"I do" this fifteen years old kid accepted my challenge.

"I was talking to my friends." I tired to explain to that hard headed guy. See the rules at the arcades are that if someone accepts your challenge. Well then you are screwed because you can not chicken out.  

 

            I gave it my best shot. In the end I knew  I was going to come out a looser but I should not let this man disgrace me on my favorite game in front of what seemed to be a thousand people. In the end the defeat landed in my hands. The victory I was hopping for never came my way. 

 

I don't remember how long we were in the arcade. All I remember was that when                  

                                                                       

I went to the arcade the sun was up and when I came out of the arcade the sun was down.

"So you guys want to tell me why we came to the arcade?"

"We  found out that you are moving to the U.S."

"Now that makes more sense."