July 04, 1778

XV - VI

At the front of the door of his house, Jack, son of Bartholomew Brandford and Lenneth Crescent, stands there, sitting along his cousin, Daniel Brandford, also known as Dan, or 'Gappys' by his nearest cousin, the same Jack that is as bored as his. Bored because they had nothing else to do. Before reaching such unnexpected conclusion, they played some marbles, yet they still feel such boredom, like a stranger from another lands also feel when it comes to such land without a shining sun on its full glory. There are things a boy can only do on its own, or when together by same boys. Jack and Dan had done many of these things, and some they are still awaiting to do, either because they are only children, or because only an adult has the height enough to do such thing.

Even with such low height, these kids can climb a tree, thanks to the claws they were born with, and the energy kept into such tiny bodies. Someday, they might climb onto something, or someone else, but until there, they keep playing some marbles, because that's one of the things they thought to do first. There is no winner, or loser yet. A game of marbles is usually played with more than two players, but since only two of them got along, and with no sight of a third or fourth player anywhere else, they keep playing the same game. While both keep hitting the marbles of each, blue for Jack, and green for Dan, they think for themselves.

XV - VII

Time used to went away when these kids played with each other, or when they thought for a moment about something of their interest. There are other boys playing with marbles, and others playing with other balls. At home, or in the distant yard, covered by mud or rain, some kids play a game with an only ball, and eleven boys, while Jack and Dan play a game with many balls, and only two boys. No girls are allowed to play or interact with such games and balls for boys. They never tried, but insisted to play, or else they cried and later come back with mommy, still insisting to be allowed to play such game.

Unlike girls, mothers are serious beings. To think some of them were once as childish as their daughters, thought Jack, remembering of the day a girl, instead of calling her mother, called his own, only because he didn't allowed her to play a game for boys. To call a mother belonging to yours is a thing, but to call Lenneth, whom he refers to fondly as 'Lennie', was a cheap trick. And how cheap it was. Jack never told to his mother, or Lennie as he call her by, and keeps insisting so, what kind of game he didn't allowed that girl to play with his and others like his. When you are a boy, other boys check you out, so Jack lied and said it was marbles instead, like now. Life is a pop of cherry, or so Dan said to his, and of course it was the father of his who said it once, or many times, since many of the children learn from patterns, from repetition, because everything repeats, or insists so, like these cherries eaten or soon to be ate, or what the heck do 'pop' means, or sounds like. Jack still is wondering to this day, as he uses to wonder with everything as well, and what kind of life his uncle Clyde do lead, and if its the same one that belongs to his father as well. Maybe not, he thought.

Speaking about fathers, they usually were were there to give them an advice of what to do. Jack often would hunt some Basilisks with his father, whereas Dan would do the same as well with Clyde, the father of his, also Jack's uncle. Not the only one, but a kind of uncle, an individual they call by 'unique', 'special' to denote such individuality, however Jack only calls Clyde by 'uncle' or 'funny' than such terms. These aren't enough to describe his, he thinks, as he once though of same before. Today, they don't feel such need of killing Basilisks, even if maybe that would be fun, but the fun they are willing to search needs to last, for a bit longer.

XV - VIII

So Jack and Dan keep playing marbles, throwing a ball on another, and seeing how they move above a surface of stone, the same where they stand sitting, or laying down, as Jack had moved, unquiet of standing in same position. He ain't a statue, though statues are given more attention than an ordinary as his. Lenneth, went to the market, and sooner or later she will get back home; either way, even if the day would find a way to progress with her comeback, still stood still, as much as it insists to remain into such. That's why people seek a way to break with the habits, do something new, or else, life become such a boredom, like the game Jack and Dan insists to keep playing, unlike adults.

Besides the task given to take care of Jack, Lenneth now found herself to be pregnant, still awaiting for the arriving of the newborn and also for the one who was crucial for its production. So do Jack, for his father, and only. Because there is no such a thing like a kid with two, or many fathers, or so do Dan says otherwise, referring once again to 'Mrs. Bindweed', a lady neighbor of his that had gotten many sons, belonging to many fathers, though her house ain't an orphanage. 'I'm not interested', or 'shut up', as Jack uses to say to Dan, and his 'bullshits', or 'shits', either with the mind of his, or with the lips of his. The mind spoke at the moment, and how often his lips used to... Moving on.

Not that Jack did'nt wanted another brother. Maybe if the brother of his grew up, or so do Jack thought, then he and Gappys would be playing together on these days of marbles. While Jack would taught his brother some words, Dan would share of his Basilisk Hunter techniques, as much as his father had told his how to do. Jack also would be there to teach his young brother about the world they live, and how everything is not funny when it comes to claws, as a good old brother must do, in order to assure the youngs one strenght, both physically and mentally, to endure such situations where a fist seems to be the only way to decide answers. Yes, that would be funny and even an act of responsibility, but what if his father didn't come back? If Bart, daddy, hypothetically failed, and died in sequence.

Such humdrum blew into his mind. Daddy would never fail with his, Jack thought, as much as he won't fail to his. That's a major reason that justifies why he didn't attempted to abandon Lennie. Only a coward would let a female, girl or woman, on their own when they need of another at their most, or so uncle Clyde said to his, sounding alike his own father. But why his father did left? He ain't a coward, Jack thought with conviction, with absolute truth, or so what he knew about his father. He may be a fool who stood with Lennie instead of mother, but he had his own reasons, unlike Jack. Too young to understand, or too old to be treated as a young one, Jack isn't daddy, or daddy isn't Jack. Though they are father and son, a kid and adult, they still are different, or rather similar, on the way they do live.

Well, if daddy never would come back, even if he had all that strenght to his alone, it was hard for Jack to believe into such possibility, but heroes do die, someday or everyday. They are either hid under or between hats, or exposed like statues for them all. Kain, Frigg, Gizamaluk, Cyan, Magnus, Phaedra... those were the names Jack thought, as much as the ones whom Dan said when asked by his cousin names of Kings, Queens and legends that resisted against time, and only. They are dead, but they are knew even by an infant like his, or Dan, or his other cousins. Even the surname of his, Crescent, was knew by other people, associated with a substantial amount of legends, enough to be recognized by the masses.

All of the Crescent knew by others were once Dragoon Knights. Now they are either a few statues, or mainly spears of what they used to be, or unknown relatives from past centuries, buried like any other belonging to same place. Tombstones are recognized by family members, and only, who learned from the old about their location, like a secret treasure map, whose treasure can't be dug however, unlike statues, who are constantly fixed from time after time, day in and day out for those belonging to Kings and their wifes, the Queens, a few of them who are knew for far more than their beauty. Jack's grandpa, the Major Brandford, also had gotten a statue to his, and a tombstone made of silver, that can be found near the Burmecian Palace, where other majors bodies and ashes rests as well.

Sometimes, his daddy is knew by others as the Major's son, like Dan's father as well. Jack wonders if his father, who share of same name as his gramps, will come back, soon or later. Still awaiting, patience often gone to be back another day, the only thing Jack knew about the future was that his brother would be there soon, on the same crib he once used to sleep, to play with that sane doll brought by mother to his, and to be told some lullabies when it comes the time to put an end to be awake. Jack wishes for Lennie to bring a brother to this world, even if she had plans to give the name 'Bart' to his, instead of a sister. Girls aren't funny to play with, either because they are annoying, or because of their mothers. Dan thinks otherwise about the previous quote of his cousin, but Jack doesn't care, as he tells him to shut up and keep playing marbles...

...

♫Cabaret Voltaire - Kneel To The Boss♫

(Still) July 04, 1778

XVI - XII

...

— Had some of us won this game already? – Gappys asked to me. There is only me to his to answer the question brought by his, as it seems. That kid sure is taking some time to be here, even if the house of his isn't that far from here. This if you count on the legs he, as we, owns.

— No, I don't think so – he can't be somewhere else, playing with other boys, can he? Fratley told us that he would show something to us. Something I wonder why it's taking so much of his and our time as well. This something that supposedly belongs to his father, which once used to belong with other people. Strange, unfamiliar people. From the corner of the dark alley to the corridors shone by the bright sun, that must be truly something valuable to be kept with such security.

— How do we play this game, after all? – once again, a question was asked to me. Another answer is about to be delivered... oh, here we go. Why don't you shut up, Dan? No, that's too formal. What about...

— ...Just be quiet. If we had any rules, then you wouldn't be awaiting for his as I do.

And so Dan obeyed me. Even I had to obey myself, as well. Like fishing, where you can't talk because fish is afraid of our talking, we kept playing this silly game, as silly as a fish afraid of conversation. Fishs are such stupid creatures, if you think about it. They smell bad on purpose, so they can't be eaten, yet we ate them; however, they swin in the lake, in the river, because if we do, we might drown up, yet, these fishes can't live to breathe air, can't survive on the rain, which is also water. Frogs do, but fish doesn't. I smell bad too, but at least, when there's water, Lennie gives me a bath. It's not that bad, after all, though sometimes is, other times is a pleasure, now that I know I am better than those fishs I ate.

Man, I'm so bored that I am thinking about fish to kill some time. Talking about fish, this reminded me of daddy. I used to go fishing with daddy, and I still remember how easy it was to caught some with his silence, and mine as well. We could even caught some with our claws in clear, or dirty water. Nothing seem to have changed, after all. I could be fishing by now, but without daddy? There was a day I almost fell into the lake, no, I did fell in the lake, and I couldn't swin, but daddy was there to caught my hand, or my feet, or my tail, it doesn't matter the limb, but sure he caught me. And holded into me, unlike mother... no, Lennie. She wasn't there, and never had.

Lennie can eat fish, as mother used to tear apart the scales of the dragons she putted on eternal sleep. How I wished to see mother awake, instead of being put on such sleep she used to put on those dragons. I know, I know... To sleep is another of many quotes that means death. That used to work with gramps, but with mother, it didn't had same effect, thought it seems only I do know what happened to mom... Now I know why fish do hate conversations. It's because they would end up drowing on a single talk. Drowing in conversation, drying up in thoughts... As if my brain turned into sand, perhaps it's the effect of insisting for the hours to keep passing, until they reach tomorrow, or another hour. They do pass; faster for others, and slowly to a kind of us, this including Dan, whose brain had turned into sand too. Maybe don't, by watching that amount of earwax at the tip of that nail...

Yuck. I prefer to watch something else, or someone else. When I was younger than this, sure I was, I used to keep watching daddy and mom's faces. This before I could see my own face in the mirror, but before I could, they were my mirror. Lennie is a mirror of mom, though mirrors do have the smudges, like glasses, but it seems nobody cares, nobody that I know. They do care for other things, like Dan, who keeps cleaning himself with those nails. At least, he do have a sense of what it means to be clean, thought that's doubtful, as his smile. Geez, is there something more interesting to keep watching instead of the face of his? Those gaps? The marbles? The tree? The tree nearby my house has a hole, that reminds me of Gappys, and Lennie, for some unknown reason.

...And another ball is threw into another ball. Yeah. Whew, guess who's the champ?... You're right, Jack. Nobody. Ah... Lennie sure is taking too long to come back. Maybe it's the milk, but that ain't my milk. It's for my little brother, and only. I'm thinking about that one kept on those galloons of tin. They are kinda heavy, you see. And cold too, like Lennie. Her gaze sure is cold, yet daddy finds it 'stimulating', or so he said. Maybe it was Dan who said, or intended to, but whatever. It used to stimulate fear onto me, and fear isn't exactly what daddy felt for mom, or still feels for Lennie. If he felt fear, then I wouldn't be born, right? I once asked to them how I was born, and so they told me the same tale, of someone who falls in love so much for another, that a child is born. Who need details, when you have a friend like Dan?

Nobody can make me a fool again, since I do know how a child is born, and made as well. I wonder how adults do learn, since they were once children as we. Maybe there are some other Dans like this one, in a manner of speaking, who offer of this message, this 'wisdom', or what the heck is this supposed to be. More 'stimulating' than her look is that coat, a red coat Lennie wears, pretending to be someone else. Now, speaking of Lennie, she seems more worried with her look of these days than a figure to have fear with from other days. This is what happens when you pretend to be someone else, to the point you become it as a whole. For some reason, I know about it so damn well. I wonder why, but maybe because I kept seeing Lennie day after day, and now I came to realise of such matter. How wonderful things are...

XVI - I

Speaking about wonderful... Fratley sure took a long, long way to get in there, didn't he? Well, at least, he sure came here, as he said he would. Good boy. Between a four and a five, one is an odd number, while the other is an even one. Me and Dan are odd, whereas Fratley, my dear friend, besides being a short kid, in height, he's also an odd one, not in age, but on his way of living same age. In fact, he seems to be living his own age further more than we had done once. So, Fratley came in, carrying something more than a piece of cookie crumbling apart, or hard to be broken as a yesterday bread, this because I told his before to get something for us to be shared, to give us some time to waste, or in a few words, a pastime. His voice could be heard from a short distance, as he was singing something alike:

...I say... Eleven...

...You may say... Seven...

...Still, I wish you... a place in Heaven...

I admit it was a quite pleasant melody. It had rhythm, or some kind of dynamic. Well, I'm not that smart to understand why, but it sounded well. Very well to my both ears. Other than his voice, I also noticed that Fratley was constantly putting his both hands into both of his pockets, and he still kept movng those limbs as he uses to do. Then, as he approached further, I saw clearly that he was putting his hands on the pants, scratching underneath those with his little hands. I expect this from itchy people, but what I thought for an instant to be lice on his pants were just crumbles of those cookies he use to eat. It seems he only do eat those, and I still wonder how many fill in the pocket of his. I also wonder if that boy has a sense of cleansing,

— Oi! – he exclaimed, as he kept stepping into the tiny ladder in front of my house, settled above the road, like a single hill on a valley, until he reached those marbles that are placed above the grass, guiding guests and the people who live at these houses, with the shape of bells, or sort of.

— Hi Fratley – I said. For some reason, I was calm, yet upset of his absence. I could blame his for this boredom, yet I couldn't.

— Why did you took so long? – Dan asked, raising from the same place where his knees rested, and trembled as his whole. It's cold in there, like Dan's gaze towards Frattie. He was kind of angry. Still is upset, or intends to with that eye and its lashes. If he ever gazed at me like that... Now that I see how Dan is gazing at Fratley with those eyes, it kinda reminded me of someone. Myself, me, to be fair. Dan seems like me when I used to gaze at his, on those times. Maybe yesterday, or last week, but there was a time I looked at his on same way he's looking at that boy.

— Oh... well... – Fratley couldn't even say a word, or even move. Well, he still kept moving as usually, but now it seemed that his entire body was itchy, unlike before, where such was restricted to his pants. His eyes looked at the gaze delivered by Dan, still as the smile of his own face. A smile of distress, if I recall, not a kind that belonged to the face of that kid, but Dan's.

— Wait – I said, as I noticed something peculiar. Besides noticing such thing, I also interrupted them, both my intentions. Even with such gaze, Dan didn't noticed what I saw at the back of Fratley's right ear. It was something greenish, not blending with same green as the cap wore by his; that object had a colour of a green like the grass from home, standing below both of their, even mine by now – what is this?

— This is my lucky clover! – Fratley exclaimed, pointing with his index to the clover he took from somewhere else, and had put on the back of that ear. I mean, he could have decided to keep carrying on that clover with one of his hands, or even in one of his pockets, but these are my thoughts, belonging to my head. This kid's head is another thing. I took that lucky clover from the back of its right ear, to look at it closer. Then, I shaked my head in disbelief,

— No, Fratley. That ain't a lucky clover – I said, as I pointed with my fingers to its leaves, and deduce the obvious – See... there's only three leaves, like any kind of clover.

— Four-leafed clovers are rare, so that's why they are rare, and lucky as well – said Dan, as the infant's face shone below me, with such expression on his face. It's the same face of his, but with a confidence on its smile, and on his own words about to be spoke as well.

— Well, people who like these three-leafed clovers are also rare too. So this mean they're lucky too? – yes, in a kind of way. That's what I was about to say to Fratley, but instead, I had no words to say. I thought about them, but I couldn't spell then with my teeth and the touch of my tongue beneath them. Besides an awkward silence, followed by an awkward head movement, to the left to the right, as if I was awaiting for someone else besides Lennie, and he just kept smiling at me. I smiled too, but not like his. Maybe that silence from before, this same silence, was an answer, alike that smile. His smile, mine doesn't count. So I put back that three-leaf clover on the back of the ear it now belonged.

As I returned that clover back to where it now belonged, since clovers belong to the soil, not at the back of the ears, something felt out of his cap. It was a rectangle-shaped card, purple at the back, but with a deciption of a beast on it's front, or so what seemed to be the front of it. Dan took that card away from my arm, and looked further at same card, as if he knew what it meant to be, or maybe not, since curiosity appeared before his eyes more than the knowledge of what that card was supposed to be.

— Hey – Dan said – What is this card for? – he asked, looking at the one who had gotten it alongside the hat all along.

— Daddy call this game by Quad Mist – said Fratley, who took out the hat of his, only to show us a bag. Carefully, he opened that bag, and showed us it's contents. It was full of a bunch of other cards, and other beasts as well – but some call it by Tetra Master.

— Quad Mist?... – Dan had his doubts, same as mine – we never heard of such game as this one.

— If it's better than marbles... then, let's try playing it.

XV - II

When rain started pouring down more than softly as before, Dan headed at the front of my house's door to collect his marbles and put then on a bag, similar to the one where those Tetra Master's cards resides, althought a bit smaller than the previous one, me and Fratley headed to the kitchen, since card games are usually played by people on tables, where the cards rests, the same could be said for the drinks, the gils, but those are adult games. I never saw daddy playing such games, I guess, but many do it so. These people sit around a table, keep talking, playing, drinking, shouting names, or so Dan told me about the time he saw uncle Clyde's side, the one I didn't knew about, but Dan sure know. Not only uncle Clyde, but other people as well do have their sides. I, as well, also share of a kind side, unlike the one they mostly see from my gaze, my fist as well, this side kept obscured by many, unlike me, who does show of such for them all, unlike uncle Clyde.

— Well, let's see. 3P60... 0P00... – I putted all the cards on the table, ready to play this game, not before I learned of its rules. Funny... I recall I asked Fratley to get some passtime to be shared for us, and so he did. I knew he is a good pal. I could even say he is as close as a friend to me. Dan is my cousin, so he doesn't count. Daddy would, if he was there. Maybe daddy know how to play this game, but now I'm on my own, so... There are numbers below these cards. Each one seems to be different, as I thought for a moment. I mean, all cards sure are different, yet there are ones who share of same number, like, I found a whole of '0P00' tagged on four different kind of beasts, all of them unique beasts, yet they had the same number, or tags – 1M10... 2P10...

— Damn! How in the heck are we supposed to play this game!? – man, how lazy was the cost of production for each one of these cards? Couldn't they afford some time to explain what these tags mean, since they do follow a pattern, like this: Number (0-9); Letter (A to Z); Number (0-9); Number (0-9); As it seems, each number and letter is random, but not, as seem with 0P00, and 1M10. A whole of 0P00 says it all. Ok. So, there are these tags, they all obey this –NLNN– pattern, and that's fine. But now, I wonder what those mean, since you can't put something out of context and expect to share of some, even without an explanation. Explanation...

— How are we suppose to play this mess, Frattie? I asked, as I had no answers to be spoken to solve of this puzzle. As it seems, nobody else had as well. This until Dan came from outside, after he took all the marbles of his. He heard me, of course, as he was about to deliver an answer to us.

— Oh, I know how! – Dan shouted, as he took some of the cards to the hand of his. Forgive me, Fratley, if one of your cards remain a bit grubby... – Fang eats Goblin, Goblin eats Fang, Skeleton can't eat...

— No, that's bullshit enough – I said to Dan – anyone can be eaten, or be the one who eats, being the skeleton the one who had been eaten already, though he's still hungry even dead. Shesh...

— I know! – said Fratley – the card with the highest tag wins! – that sounded alright, but...

— No. That ain't possible, or fair enough for us – let's see... as far as I know, the highest value for each –NLNN– belongs to the 4P44 card, the one with the picture of a Grand Dragon. I know that Grand Dragons are strong, menacing, Lennie too, so if 4P44 is the ultimate card, anyone who had gotten it would win the game already, and that ain't funny. We want to play this game for hours, or before Lennie come back, with the milk, of course. The milk within the galloon, to be sure – say, Fratley... how your daddy supposedly played this game? Did he taught you how to play, at least? – I asked to his, since he was the one who brought these cards to ours.

— No – he said, but with such sincerity I couldn't afford to deliver a punch to his face. It would alter that kind expression of his, that seemed to have an effect on me, or each one near his sight. If Dan, at least, could do the same, he wouldn't lose many of his teeth. Yet, I had to raise my fist, still I could somehow, but instead of pulling a punch, I gently took out the cap of his, to softly touch my hand upon his face, because I'm kind like his too. Well, sometimes... 'good boy', or so do my hand intended to say. I could offer Fratley a cigar, but I don't think he do smoke. Neither me.

— Hey, Jack... Can't we just begin the begin already? – asked Dan. I would ask the same as well, yet I wanted someone other than me to answer and solve of such conflict. At least, not only me was there – So... Why don't we create our own rules and play on our way? It can be better this way, don't you think? – said Dan, now sitting on a chair in front of me. For once, he said something I had to agree with. Fratley, as well.

— So, let's play on our own way, shall we? – I said, ready to play.

— Can I play too? – oddly, Fratley asked. It was odd, because he was the one who brought these cards at first place. I guess his brothers never had given him a chance to play with then. I don't know, but that sounds clearly next to the truth, if there is one.

— Of course. Why not? – I asked, as he already knew the answer. So we divided all cards, a total of 52, between three of us. Of course, some cards remained, but mostly they are repeated ones, not unique like the rest. The cards were delivered backwards by me, to avoid some other conflict coming from Gappys, or even Fratley's, about how unfair was I. What is unfair, if we are playing on our own rules? Is it really unfair for us to not even know how to play Tetra Master rightfully? I don't think so. The original game might be boring, as everyone in this world uses to play with then. Fratley even told of a tournament of same game that happens at the Dark City of Treno, or so his father told to his, as he used so, when not traveling around this continent we call by world.

So restricted are the rules, like the walls of this house, the glass from the window, the blanket of each night, the hands of those who put these clothes on us, as they make other clothes to the ones who are already there, or are meant to be there. Same could be said of Lennie, who seems to only care about my brother, I wish his to be a brother. If our world is already restricted enough, so it's the sister's side, mother's side, even Lennie's side. But if there are people who like three-leafed clovers like Frattie, then surely there are people who play Tetra Master significantly different, outside the rules. So did mom, when she become a Dragoon Knight. That used to be a manner to play outside the rules, but since it has now become a family thing, it has become a rule that, at least, one of us become a Dragoon as well, like mom did. And so did Lennie.

Speaking about rules... each one of us seems to be playing the card game as we had been told how, not by the ones who came up with the rules first than us, but by whatever our mind tell us to do, rightfully creating our own rules, our own game, our own fun. It seems to be working, thought I am about to say otherwise. While I had chosed to play a guessing game, where I guess which kind of beast is in the card, Dan seems to be playing the food game, where I throw a card on the table, a random one, as he threw another, random as well, and in the end he sees both cards as the veridct of 'this eats that' comes up, whereas Fratley... well, he seems to be playing with an only card, despite the amount of cards given to his. There is a single Chocobo card being held by the hand of his, as I could see when he flipped it sometimes, like a doll walking to somewhere else, but the table had its limits, unlike his idea of game.

XV - III

Anyway...

— ...Do you have any Ironites? – I asked to Dan.

— Yes... – said Dan, throwing an Ironite card at my direction – Call! – he shouted next, as we threw random cards at the table.

— Choco... – sometimes, that word seemed to be the only thing spoke by Frattie. This, and when he uses tp drop down the card of his at the table, as he takes that three-leafed clover from the back of the ear to feed 'Choco', offering such like a Gyshal Green to that yellow bird of his. Other than such things, I don't know.

Aimlessly wandering to the left and right, moving like the limbs of its owner, Choco keeps traveling, sometimes even 'flying' outside the table's border, like how Dan's dirt uses to fly outside the border of its nose at the tip of the finger. Used to, since he's inside my house, and there's no place in there for him to drop down that gob. Not only because of me, but because of Lennie, whom he thinks is cute. Maybe he said beautiful instead, but I am talking about Dan, and I do know about the way he uses to talk about Lennie.

— I won – just as I wasn't expecting, Dan said such words.

— What!? How!? – he caught me up this time.

— You see... Skeleton against Fang, Skeleton wins, of course – he said, trying to find an explanation of why he had won, instead of me – the one who has no flesh wons over the one who have what the have not insists to have. Understood? – that kind of explanation didn't amused me, as I insisted to find a way of winning against Dan, since I can't win against Fratley. I don't even know how am I suppose to win both games, at first place, so I keep trying as I can, with my rules. Dan took that card

— So... do you have any Skeletons? – I asked, intenting of taking that card with me, but for each coin flipped, there might be Heads, but Tails had struck me this time, like how Dan's tail waved, as he laughed against me, and my tail, silent as I.

— Hah ha. Nice try, but you cannot take my Skeleton – Dan said, holding and showing of the same card I was about to take from his.

— Why not? I ask which kind of card you do have, and then I take it.

— These are your rules – he said, now pointing at the Skeleton card with his index, as if I didn't paid enough attention to that thing – you can't take the one who ate, thought you can take back your Fang, but you can't play with same Fang again, since he's dead – He sure is mocking me, isn't he? At least, Frattie wouldn't ever do such thing, since he's on his own, with Choco.

— It's actually pretty boring to keep winning, you see... – I said to Dan, who had won over five times, counting now. He sure won then and now, yet he still keeps playing same game of his, as I do, with my own game – you seem to be enjoying such boredom, if I may say.

— Trying to bluff me? – he asked, with a cocky tone – I actually like to win... Call! – I dropped another random card, before Dan could. Then, he flipped such cards, and come to same verdict. No surprises – I won. Ironite eats tiny Goblin, no matter how big the sword of his.

— See? You always win, no matter what...

— I won too – said Fratley, besides calling the name of Choco, as before.

— You won? How? – I asked, as I had turned my head to his direction.

— I got Choco. I won! – I wondered for an instant what was supposed to be that kind of game Frattie had been playing all along. But like before, I couldn't even understand why he sounded too serious, and sincere as well, to claim such accomplishment. Maybe he just said that he won because Dan kept spelling the same word each time he ate one of my cards. Maybe...

— Why do you want to win, Jack? Didn't you said that is boring to keep winning?

— I already lost many things... – I didn't even had time to prepare an answer for Dan. I just said what came up, and this was what prominently I had been forced to tell them, as much as they were forced to look at my direction. I felt a kind of recognition with their look, as much as they also felt of such recognition as well. Not only my daddy has been gone to lenghts away from me, but their fathers as well. Then, we blinked, as the door opened on its own. We thought to have opened by itself, but it was just the one I once was expecting mostly. It was Lennie, carrying of a basket with one of her hands, and a same baby on her chest.

— How are you doing, Jack? – she said, looking at the table where I, Dan and Fratley were sitting, playing different games with same cards. They grated Lennie with a 'Hi', thought to be a single for a moment, until it was followed by a 'Mrs. Lenneth' by Dan, and a hand waving gently by Fratley.

— I'm fine – I said, promptly taking that basket to be carried with my arms, and to be left above the table, on the side of where the cards resided. I know I only did it because of how much Lennie took to be here, at this time. There must be a galloon of milk awaiting at outside, and since mostly of then are heavy, which requires both hands to be raised, or one, but that was before my brother came to her chest, so maybe if I try to be kind, she'll pour down some milk earlier than I thought, for me, and her as well.

— Thanks, Jack – she spoke, before she came outside, to raise that galloon with both of her hands, That basket sure could be raised by her as well while lifting of same galloon in both arms, but there is always time to make things, or seemingly make then easier as they should. Chomp!... That's the sound of a mouth eating of an apple, clearly heard by any ear belonging to this room, seem by their eyes belonging to such faces as well.

— Don't you see, Jack? You won your mother's confidence over you – Dan said, holding of those cards he took away, as this apple is slowly taken apart by my jaw, torn apart into crumbles by my teeth, swallowed into my throat, unlike these words I choose.

— Munch!... But she ain't my mom. Chomp!... and what I had won from her isn't confidence. It's just a matter of Burp!... a matter of survival.

— ...Survival of who? – asked Fratley. His eyes stared at me, a fixed gaze belonging to a flatworm's eyes. Eveb underneath the cap and strands of hair of his, they could be seen. He, like his eyes and ears, may had been caught by surprise after I told his that Lennie ain't my mom – well, if Lenneth ain't your mom, then why do you insist to be there, with her?

— I dunno. Maybe it's because of daddy. I do not want to dissapoint his.

— Oh, daddy... it's because of daddy that you are here?

— Well... – for some reason, I had a waste of words. I wanted to be quiet, on my own, just like daddy, but how could I, in the middle of the conversation. I couldn't. I had to talk, with that boy, who wanted to talk. Since then, he had been talking, or less than, with a card by the name of Choco, instead of a rat like me by the name of Jack. Now he seemed to be talking with me, or trying so, since I do not want to talk anymore, yet I wanted they to watch me. But now that she came back, there'll be no more worries about it. Who need to be worried, when there's milk to be given to yours?

Daddy... Frattie also seems to address his father by such name as well. Mostly the children do the same, after all. They are taught to speak dad, as much as we are taught to speak mom with our lips, followed by their lips, used to speak with us, and kiss us as well. Lennie didn't even gave me a sign of gratitude for being a patient kid this day. I even allowed myself to be taken in to a bath this morning, only to see if she cared. Maybe she did, and still does. There'll be milk for this day and onwards, so that seems to be enough than a kiss. It seems to be, not that is rightfully truthfully enough. 'A matter of survival', I said; 'Survival of who?' he asked. If it's right, or if it's wrong... it doesn't matter, Jack. Why don't you try to play with another rules, beyond your owns? Why you don't try to be so kind with...

Mom. If I could say it on her face... just on that face. That face... had I ever noticed when someone cries, yet a tear isn't even shed? Maybe I didn't. Maybe they don't, as a tear can be mistaken by a drop of rain. There is no rain falling from the ceiling, there is no sweating of my efforts, yet I am sheding of a tear for such effort, such rule that is to wherever you're sad, try to shed a tear. I only tried, and I think I thought I say myself try so many damn times ago, but the clock still keeps moving forward, or downward as its arrows, and I, yet the silence remains still, as I try to be still as well. I tried. I tried. I tried.

I didn't tried enough. Slu-u-u-urp...

XIX - II

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