The Game

There was a game that my brother, Ko Ko, and I played. Ko Ko wrapped my eyes in a white handkerchief (“white”, actually I do not know what that words was but known as "white" according to Ko Ko’s words) and gave me another handkerchief. When Ko Ko yelled, "Ko Ko’s here," I had to move to where he seemed to be and waved that handkerchief. Could I say that I was a good player in that game? As soon as Ko Ko shouted, "Ko Ko’s here," I shifted a little from where I was and started to catch Ko Ko. I was nothing wrong with that game and I always caught him and never missed. When it was Ko Ko’s turn to arrest me, he just didn't catch me. I was good at fasting. When I said, "Ko Ko, I'm here," I lean to one side and move to the other side, and the other way around. The game was not weird; we, in turn, put the handkerchief on our eyes and waved the other handkerchief in turn.

One day, Mom and Dad decided not to play the game. That day, I collided with a flowerpot (they called “vase”) in the yard and fell down to the ground in prone because I abscond from Ko Ko’s catching. It's getting fell hot all over with me. I was wondering what had just happened to me. And I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. Ko Ko yelled Mom and Dad. I remembered. I was not the only one who cried that day. I could tell by the sound of Koko that Ko Ko was holding me and crying. "Mom . . . . Dad . . . Please come. Here . . . Our little one stumbled and fell . . . There is bleeding on his lips . . . ”.

Ko Ko was not very close to me that day. He did not come to my room. I'm so bored without him. I just had to play for a while in the morning. Later on, the restriction not to play this game at all came to the fore. How can Ko Ko and I not play this game? Dad and Mom are also very worried about me. I told and promised them I would make sure I didn’t get hurt next time, and I was so happy to be playing like that. “Didn't you see that I used to laugh and smile when I was playing with Ko Ko?” But since Dad and Mom did not want me to play, I had to put up with the urge not to play.

While I was sleeping that afternoon, I woke up to the sound of Ko Ko and Dad whispering. But I wanted to know what Dad and Koko were talking about, so I kept pretending to sleep.

"Is it because of me, Dad? Is it because I’m playing with Little one?"

"No, Son. Not because of you. It's because of a vase that hit your brother."

"Because of the vase"

"Yes. The vase was there, so your younger little one has stumbled and fell."

"So, relocate the vase. Then I and little one can play."

"Can you say that just by moving the vase, your little brother will not stumble again?"

". . . . ."

"Son, I’ll tell you, ‘If there is the lawn with the bricks where you two are playing, your little brother will stumble and fall down again. Then little one would still be in pain and cry. Or it may be that little one is crying because he is too fast to hold himself on. So it'll be the the best that you guys are not playing this game. "

"So, how can we play if we can’t play this game? Little one is . . . He is . . ."

No more voices from Ko Ko. I listened intently. I, literally, could not hear anything. After a while, Dad and Ko Ko left the room.

Why didn't you tell, Ko Ko? I'm . . . I'm . . . Why? And why are Ko Ko and Dad so quiet? Didn't Ko Ko and Dad ever dream of telling me something I still do not know? Shouldn't I know for sure? If you're not sure about yourself . . .

flowerpot (big vase) . . .

A vase that I stumbled . . .

What does a vase look like? . . .

It was a hard thing I felt when I was hit. I do not know the rest. So, I was the only one who do not know what a vase, a thing that even the others, Mom, Dad and Ko Ko knew, is.

That night, Mom and Dad kissed Ko Ko and me on the forehead, telling us not to, unsafely, play again. Before Mom and Dad left the room, I asked them.

"Dad, what kind of vase did I hit this morning?"

Dad and Mom seemed to be quiet for a while without answering. Then Dad answered.

“A vase is a thing as lovely as you, Little one. Round. And Waugh wavy lips.

"The vase is hard, Dad."

"Yes. Of course. She is okay even though you stumble on her."

"I still cried when I fall down. But I think I’m as strong as that vase. I cried for a while. And despite this pain, he still wants to play. Next time, I need to make sure I does not cry like that vase didn’t."

". . . ."

Hmmm . . . Didn't Dad or Mom want to response my words or say anything? I did not even hear Ko Ko's voice. I thought Ko Ko was asleep, so I was going to sleep too.

"Dad, I'm going to sleep. Is Koko asleep too? "

"Your big brother is asleep. Then I will turn off the light and close the door, Little one. Good night."

I closed my eyes to sleep. I was going to sleep. When I was about to go to bed, I was still thinking about Dad telling me he turned off the light and so why he had to turn off the light.

What happens when the lights go out? . . .

Do I have to turn off the light when I sleep? . . .

Do I feel sleepy only when the light was turned off? . . .

So what about the old days? We’re the lights always off? . . .

Whether the lights were off or not; even if the lights were on, nothing seemed to change to me.

How do you define light and darkness that I have heard? . .

What game should I play instead of the one I no longer play starting from today? . . .

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