The Football Club

My name is David. I am ten years old. My parents are May and Michael. We live in Hong Kong in a small flat above a seafood resturant. I go to school everyday and study Science, Math, English, and History. Those are boring, but I like playing football and swimming. My school is next to a big football field where after school I go with my friends to play. My friend Peter has a football that he brings to school with him so that we can play. I wish I had one. Dad says we don’t have enough money for one, but one day maybe I will be a really good boy and I’ll get one. Peter’s Dad gave him his football. It’s a real leather one with the black and white spots. Sometimes after playing at the field Peter takes me to the Football Club for sandwiches and to go swimming. I really like the Football Club. It’s really big, and a lot of my friends go there. Peter always has to sign me in as a guest. Sometimes they remember us though and they just wave us in. I like that a lot. We go into the changing rooms and find a locker to put our bags in. Then we go to the dining room and order food. I like the cheese and pickle sandwiches, and I always get a lemonade. Mum says that we can’t be members because the waiting list is too long and the membership is very expensive. But I’m lucky that my friends take me there to play. Sometimes, after a game, we go there with the whole team to shower and eat. It’s always fun when all of our friends are there eating together. One time, Peter and I were walking from the changing room to the dining room and Adam jumped out at us from around a corner. We weren’t expecting him at all. We chased him all the way to the dining room and the waiter yelled at us to stop running.

Then one day, Peter didn’t come to school. We didn’t know where he was. I went home after school and tried to call him, but no one was at home. He didn’t come to school the next day either. I tried calling him everyday after school to see what was wrong, but no one was ever home. I don’t know what happened to Peter.

The next year, Adam got a football for Christmas. We were so happy that we could play football again. But I hurt my ankle in the first week and Mum wouldn’t let me play for awhile. I would sit on the side watching my friends laugh and shout at each other. Whenever Adam scored a goal, he would run over and give me a high five. But soon enough I was up and at it again. One day, Adam took me to the Club to get some food. The waiter asked us what had happened to Peter. We didn’t know, he had just disappeared. I told him that no one ever picked up the phone at his house, and we just gave up. Then we finished up and went swimming.

Two weeks later Adam and I went to the Club again and the waiter told us that Peter’s family were still using the Club. He had looked up their bill. He hadn’t seen any of them, but someone was using and still paying the bill. We rushed to the phone to call Peter, but no one answered.

A few months later, I was getting off the bus and I accidently bumped into a lady carrying lots of shopping bags. It was Peter’s Mum. She recognized me and smiled. She looked tired. I asked her where Peter was. She invited me to get something to drink with her. We sat down at a coffee shop nearby, and I asked her again where Peter was. She was silent for a few minutes.
“He’s dead. He was hit by a car coming home from the Club.”
She started sniffling and wiping the corners of her eyes.
“We tried to tell all of you what happened, but we were devastated and went back to Australia for awhile. We’re leaving next week to go back for good. We’re just here packing up our belongings. Could you bring Peter’s friends over on Thursday after school? We have some things of Peter’s that he would’ve liked you boys to have.”

On Thursday, Adam’s Mum picked us all up at the front entrance of school. She drove us over to Peter’s flat. It felt funny going over there. The flat was empty. There was no furniture left, only packed boxes ready to be shipped off to Australia. All the boxes were carefully labeled with name, address, phone number, and the contents. Peter’s Mum came out of the kitchen with lemonade and Park ‘n’ Shop cookies. She led us into Peter’s room and told us to pick out things that we wanted. We slowly went through small piles of toys, clothes, and books that were once Peter’s. Sitting in the corner was a familiar yellow cloth bag. I knew that bag, I’d seen it at school, at the Club, at the pool. I picked it up, opened the bag and pulled out the ball. Then I started to cry.