Escape from Paradise

Chapter 4: Cancer

"I still can't believe that we lost," said Bill leaning back and crossing his fingers behind the neck. "It hurts to lose against a team like that. I invited you to celebrate my victory but here we are grieving and sad." Larry and Jessie were not grieving or sad, in fact, they put a lot of effort to conceal their joy of seeing this otherwise proud man humbled.

Larry comforted Bill, "The game was beautiful. You played well. You can't always win, you know. Don't be hard on yourself and your team, Bill."

They sat by a window of the top stadium floor in a restaurant accessible only to the flyball players and coaches. Behind the window people, the size of ants moved to the train station or sped towards the city on their flyboards, bicycles or skates. The two other stadiums, two giants rested silently in their sleep. An hour after the game, as if ordered by the losing team the sky had become gloomy and gray. It rained. Raindrops slammed into and then raced down the windows.

Seven sparrow players sat at separate tables alone or with their friends. Today's supper consisted of alcohol beverages, desserts and baked bacon, which carried a powerful smell of spiced meat. Jessie silently chewed the juicy bacon.

Larry did the same, only he spoke in between the bites, "You did everything you could but sometimes even that is not enough. That's what I dislike about team games. If you're playing the game with thirteen other players what percentage of outcome do you control? Isn't it seven to twelve percent at max? How can a person be sad after a game of which he had so little control?"

Bill sat straight, relaxed, and took a few mouthful bites from his plate, "I believe it's a mistake to look at the players as different individuals. There is a hidden beauty in the fact that seven players form a single unity, a sort of body that has unified mind and reflexes. It is a flawed body, yes, but together we're trying to improve it. You, artists, individualists. You're no team players. You do help one another but still, you remain individualists. When we win we celebrate as one and when we lose we sorrow together. If one of us fails it's the same as if a runner's hand or a leg cramps and prevents a body from reaching the finish. Different body parts are not to be blamed. It is the whole composition that fails.

"Your take on the team game concept is interesting, Larry, but from the inside perspective, the image is very different. I think we're both correct in this case. Like always, we're very different but that's what I like about you."

'Indeed,' Larry thought. 'That also must have been the reason why he met Bill every now and then. The man was almost a total opposite of himself.

Bill said, "The lady has introduced herself but who is she and how did you meet? Perhaps, she could say a few words about herself?"

Larry explained, "We just met a few hours–"

Bill interrupted him showing an open palm. "Please, Larry, I believe she can talk for herself. She had been silent for the whole supper." He managed the most charming gaze and a polished white smile.

Bill's charm bounced against Jessie as if she was a wall. Matter-of-factly she replied, "For some reason, the memory of the beginning of this day is very hazy as if it had happened a long time ago. I was at home, then I was talking to a strange hideous man, then I was walking the streets feeling somewhat lost and then I appeared here in the middle of the avenue and then I met Larry, who invited me to watch the game. I myself am no artist nor a sports superstar. I am just an ordinary person who likes taking dance classes, playing musical instruments and watching movies. I could talk about movies all day long and if the music is right I could also dance all day long. Compared to you two, I am a bore."

"Well, well, no need to get ahead of yourself, miss," Bill said with a piece of meat on his fork. After swallowing, he continued, "Me and my friend over here. We're only good at one thing but we're terrible at everything else. Aren't we?" Larry agreed and Bill continued, "I think I am also decent at partying but that has no practical meaning or value. So don't call yourself names. When it comes to anything else than sports or writing, I and Larry are terrible. Though what interested me, was that you mentioned about the hazy memory. I had met one of my old acquaintances a week ago. He told me about the same issue. Do you know Sully, from the city board, Larry?"