''He who cannot obey himself will be commanded. That is the nature of living creatures.'' NIETZCHE, Friedrich

Brian Eno - Golden Hours

(Still) July 04, 1778

XVI - XII

...

— Had some of us won this game already? – Gappy asked me. There is only me to answer the question brought by him, 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 us something. 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 waiting for him 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 are 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 swim 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 it is, other times it is a pleasure, now that I know I am better than those fishes I ate.

Man, I'm so bored that I am thinking about killing 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 catch some with his silence, and mine as well. We could even catch some with our claws in clear, or dirty water.

Nothing seems 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 fall in the lake, and I couldn't swim, 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 hold onto 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, though it seems only I do know what happened to mom...

Now I know why fish hate conversations. It's because they would end up drowned on a single talk. Drowning 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 was 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 does have a sense of what it means to be clean, though that's doubtful, as his smile.

Geez, is there something more interesting to keep watching instead of the face? Those gaps? The marbles? The tree? The tree near my house has a hole, that reminds me of Gappys, and Lennie, for some unknown reason.

...And another ball is thrown 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 gallons 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 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 needs 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 are. Maybe there are some other Dans like this one, in a manner of speaking, who offer 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 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 realize such a matter. How wonderful things are...

XVI - I

Speaking about wonderful things... Fratley sure took a long, long way to get in there, didn't it?

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 at the 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 yesterday's bread, this because I told his before to get something for us to share, 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 good. 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 moving those limbs as he used 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 used to eat. It seems he only eats those, and I still wonder how many fill his pockets. 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 by his absence. I could blame him for this boredom, yet I couldn't.

— Why did you take so long? – Dan asked, rising 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 seemed 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 him the 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 usual, 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 things, I also interrupted them, both my intentions.

Even with such a gaze, Dan didn't notice what I saw at the back of Fratley's right ear. It was something greenish, not blending with the same green as the cap worn by him; that object had a color of a green like the grass from home, standing below both of them, even mine by now. – What is this!?

— This is my lucky clover! – Fratley exclaimed, pointing with his index finger 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 deduced 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 spoken as well.

— Well, people who like these three-leafed clovers are also rare too. So does 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 them 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 waiting 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, like 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 to.

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 description 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 the 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 called this game 'Quad Mist'. – Said Fratley, who took out the hat, 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 'Tetra Master.'

— Quad Mist?... – Dan had his doubts, same as mine. – We never heard of such a 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, although 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 girls, but those are adult games.

I never saw daddy playing such games, I guess, but many do. 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 know about, but Dan sure knew. Not only uncle Clyde, but other people as well do have their sides.

I, as well, also share 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 off such for them all, unlike uncle Clyde.

— Well, let's see. 3P60... 0P00... – I put 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 knows 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… – So I kept reading those numbers and I can't understand shit. Really. – 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 seen 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 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 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 hand. Forgive me, Fratley, if one of your cards remains a bit grubby... – Fang eats Goblin, Goblin eats Fang, Skeleton can't eat...

— No, that's bullshit. – 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 isn'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 comes back, with the milk, of course. The milk within the gallon, to be sure. – Say, Fratley... how did your daddy supposedly play this game? Did he taught you how to play? – I asked him, since he was the one who brought these cards to us.

— 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 my hand intended to say. I could offer Fratley a cigar, but I don't think he does smoke. Neither do I.

— Hey, Jack... Can't we just begin already? – Asked Dan. I would ask the same as well, yet I wanted someone other than me to answer and solve 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 in 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 in the first place. I guess his brothers never had given him a chance to play with them. 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 the 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 Gappy, or even Fratley's, about how unfair I was. 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 used to play with them. Fratley even told of a tournament of the same game that happens at the Dark City of Treno, or so his father told him, as he used to, 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 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 for it 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 differently, outside the rules. So did mom, when she became 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 becomes 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, though I am about to say otherwise.

While I had chosen 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 verdict of 'this eats that' comes up, whereas Fratley... Well, he seems to be playing with only cards, despite the amount of cards given to him. There is a single Chocobo card being held by the hand, as I could see when he flipped it sometimes, like a doll walking somewhere else, but the table had its limits, unlike his idea of game.

XV - III

Anyway...

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

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

— Choco... – Sometimes, that word seemed to be the only thing spoken by Frattie. This, and when he uses to 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 a Gysahl 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 used 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 wins over the one who has what they do not insist on having. Understood? – That kind of explanation didn't amuse me, as I insisted on finding a way of winning against Dan, since I can't win against Fratley. I don't even know how am I supposed 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, intention 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 off 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, though you can take back your Fang, but you can't play with the same Fang again, since he's dead. – He sure is mocking me, isn't he? At least, Frattie wouldn't ever do such a 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 the 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 came to the same verdict. No surprises. – I won. Ironite eats a tiny Goblin, no matter how big the sword is.

— 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 say that it is boring to keep winning?

— I already lost many things... – I didn't even have 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 in my direction.

I felt a kind of recognition with their look, as much as they also felt of such recognition as well. Not only has my daddy gone to lengths away from me, but their fathers as well. Then, we blinked, as the door opened on its own. We thought it had opened by itself, but it was just the one I once was mostly expecting. It was Lennie, carrying a basket with one of her hands, and a 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 the same cards. They greeted 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 gallon 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 said, 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 the 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 an apple, clearly heard by any ear belonging to this room, seen 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 off 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? – Fratley asked. His eyes stared at me, a fixed gaze belonging to a flatworm's eyes. Even underneath the cap and strands of hair of his, they could be seen. He, like his eyes and ears, may have been caught by surprise after I told him that Lennie ain't my mom. – Well, if Lenneth ain't your mom, then why do you insist on being there with her?

— I dunno. Maybe it's because of daddy. I do not want to disappoint him.

— Oh, daddy... Is it 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 to, since I do not want to talk anymore, yet I wanted them to watch me. But now that she came back, there'll be no more worries about it. Who needs to be worried, when there's milk to be given to you?

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 give me a sign of gratitude for being a patient kid today. 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 other rules, beyond your own? Why don't you 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 shedding a tear for such effort, such a rule that 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 try enough. Slu-u-u-urp...

XIX - II

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