“One of these days,” he said. “Everything bad will happen—one of these days.”
― James Baldwin
Kyle tried to kick the ball around with the assembled monkeys. At first, they attempted to run from the ball as it was kicked to them. The pantars anticipating a slaughter prodded the patas with their spears. The wild cats, upon Cato’s orders, were to aid the child’s attempt to get the primates engaged in the game. As time went on when the ball arrived at the feet of a confused monkey it would stare at the object at its feet before it looked at Kyle for instruction. Kyle approached the patas and pointed to the monkey’s foot. Kyle slowly demonstrated the fundamental kicking form. The monkey was still dumbfounded. Kyle assembled the monkeys in a circle. He showed them a ball before he again juggled the ball on each of his feet lifting the ball to his thighs continuing the juggling demonstration. As he performed in front of the monkeys Kyle softly howled as he supposed a monkey might. The monkeys looked at him precisely as he appeared, strangely. Kyle had the monkeys remain in the circle as he stepped outside of their ring. He tossed the ball in the middle of them. Again, he attempted his crude communication effort. One monkey looked at Kyle and then the ball. It stepped towards the ball and kicked it at another monkey. Kyle’s excitement was short-lived before mayhem broke out. The other monkeys swarmed to the ball as one grabbed it and scampered around the ring attempting to avoid the other monkeys who howled as they tried to retrieve the ball from the monkey who possessed it. “No, no, no!” Kyle yelled, “You stupid monkeys don’t get it,” his frustration was desperate. He looked and saw the contentment of Cato’s face as he expressed his futility. The monkeys cowered as a result of Kyle’s demonstration of frustration.
Kyle walked up to the patas in possession of the ball. He encouraged the monkey, demonstrating with his hands the way one might with a toddler, to place the ball on the ground. The monkey studied Kyle. Kyle waved his index finger at the monkey as a warning. “Don’t pick up the ball with your hands,” Kyle said as he placed his hands behind himself. “You can only make contact with the ball with your feet.” He considered demonstrating how the monkeys could use their heads as well, but Kyle correctly determined that he could only expect so much from his teammates. He kicked the ball once again to the patas. The monkey looked at Kyle. The boy pointed in the direction of another monkey across the circle while encouraging the mustached face patas with the ball to kick it in that direction. When the monkey succeeded in kicking the ball towards the other primate bouncing the ball off from the other monkey’s leg a third monkey stepped up and kicked the ball in another direction. The others followed similarly when the ball approached them. “Yes,” Kyle yelled encouragingly, “You guys are doing great.” He looked at Cato who was unimpressed. Kyle went around to each of the monkeys and patted them on their head or back approvingly. The patas shied away from Kyle’s gratitude not having experienced such affection from another creature. He noted that while the patas were half the size of the pantars the primates were exceedingly fast and agile. They would prove difficult for the pantars to dispose of if the rules of the game were enforced. On that consideration Kyle once again declared the essential rule as he spoke deliberately and loudly, “Remember that if an opponent is coming towards you, kick the ball to another teammate. The other team can’t touch you if you don’t have the ball. All you need to do is kick the ball when it comes to you in that direction,” Kyle pointed towards the makeshift goal that had been constructed by placing rocks on top of each other to form what appeared to be more of an open bunker than a goal. “Make sure, guys, that when the ball is kicked to you, you kick it away quickly or these pantars are going to hurt us,” Kyle indicated with a concern look on his face as he pointed at each of the pantars. He looked at his teammates with only a little less concern. “Now, let’s go see if that big old hairy thing can stop the ball,” Kyle said as he picked the ball up and placed it under his arm.
The monkeys followed him as he led them and the exceedingly slow sloth to the opposite goal. Kyle stopped deliberately. He looked at the ground before he turned and faced Cato. “Mr. Cato, does this all make sense or do you want to practice with us?” The Dark Master’s expression was rigid like a commander poised to dispose of an inferior army. He sensed, however, that the child’s growing confidence was worth paying attention to.
Eventually the two teams of creatures gathered on the makeshift pitch. Kyle announced to each side the fundamental rules of the game. He understood that the animals had no sense of what he was describing, but his hope was that Cato would adhere to the rules. He observed Cato’s returning impatience. At that moment of notice Kyle grandly announced that the winning team would be presented with a glorious flag as a trophy of their conquest. The game began as Kyle kicked the ball back to Cato. The pantars chased the ball, but when they saw Cato’s warning expression as the ball rolled to his feet the pantars halted allowing the Dark Master to kick the ball far ahead in the direction of the goal. The ball sailed through the huge open cavern bouncing high in the air after it struck the rock floor. Kyle raced ahead of the stunned pantars in pursuit of the ball. He was able to reach the ball before the pantar who was guarding the goal could reach it. Kyle led the pantar in one direction as he caught the ball on his foot. As the pantar leapt to pounce on Kyle he pirouetted on his left foot sweeping the ball with the inside arch of his right foot causing the pantar to tumble head over shoulder on the hard surface of the field. Kyle kicked the ball into the open goal. He was jubilant until he turned to see the other animals looking on unimpressed. Kyle was disappointed by their reaction. He yelled, “Goooooallll!” as he performed a cartwheel. He gathered the monkeys together as Cato stood off on the side. He patted and jovially shook each of the monkeys whooping in his attempt to inspire his teammates. The patas, initially appeared bewildered as if they were a small child asked to drive a school bus. The giant sloth was oblivious as he studied the dirt beneath his claws. Kyle pretended to be a gunslinger as he pulled make-believe revolvers from a make-believe holster firing imagined shots in the air in further demonstration of celebrating the momentous goal. Eventually the encouraged monkeys too mimicked his excitement. Kyle picked up the ball and walked towards midfield with the ball underneath his arm. “That’s 1-0 for the good guys,” he announced. He nodded to Cato,” That was a great pass, without that I couldn’t have scored.” Cato was unamused by the compliment.
“The pantars must advance the ball from midfield,” Kyle instructed. The pantar closest to him hunched low to the ground as if he prepared to pounce on Kyle. “Relax big fella, the play stops after a goal. Remember you can’t touch me if I don’t have the ball,” Cato studied the confident child. He had not expected courage from such a young creature. Cato gathered the pantars in a group, “You will suffer if you continue to be humiliated by this little creature. Take some pride in what you are. You are the predators, not this troop of misfits.”
“Remember Dark Master, you’re on our side,” Kyle instructed, “Now, let’s play ball.” The pantar closest to the ball at midfield swatted the ball towards the giant sloth in front of the goal. The other pantars raced toward the loose ball. When the monkeys at midfield spotted the approaching ferocious pack of pantars they scattered leaving the pantars with a clear path to the goal. Kyle was on the opposite side of the field while Cato who was near the retreating monkeys crossed his arms and stepped aside from the approaching pantars. The pantars swatted the ball towards the goal. The ball sailed in the air until it was absorbed by the chest of the awaiting giant sloth who looked at the ball as it dropped in front of him. Before the pantars could pounce on the ball the sloth slowly swept the ball wide of the goal with his huge sluggish claw. The ball sailed towards Kyle as the pantars scurried to regain their pursuit. He had ample time to kick the ball towards the unattended goal of the pantars. The pantars’ pursuit of the ball impressed Kyle just as the action discouraged him. They swooped on the ball before it reached the goal sending the ball wide of the empty goal. The nearby patas once again scurried away from the approaching pack of pantars.
The ball was advanced by the pack of pantars. They quickly learned that keeping the ball away from Kyle enabled them to freely move in on the goal as the terrified monkeys presented no obstacle and Cato was unwilling to participate as Kyle had hoped he would. “He’s sticking to his original plan,” Kyle thought. Time and again the pack of pantars advanced the ball only to have the gigantic sloth obstruct any chance for them to put the ball past him. As the first half was nearly over the pantars swooped in on the sloth. This time the pack broke apart as two pantars went to the opposite side of the pantar with the ball. Kyle understood the new strategy and he raced to cover the weak-side where the pantars without the ball had positioned themselves. The pantar with the ball swatted the ball across the field to the awaiting wildcats on the opposite side. Before Kyle could intercept the pass one of the pantars on the side of the approaching ball barreled into Kyle sending him tumbling to the hard rock surface of the field. The other pantar collected the pass and swatted the ball into the open goal before the sluggish sloth could react.
“That’s interference Kyle protested.”
Cato, who was encouraged by the pantars’ improved play retorted, “You are not harmed, there was no penalty. That’s a goal for the pantars.” Kyle had been concussed at least twice from the brutal treatment of Cato and the pantars. He staggered to his feet from this latest assault. The scene before him appeared blurred at first. Gradually he regained his vision although he had a pounding headache and he felt nauseous. He faced the monkeys assembled before him, “Look you guys you can’t just run from the ball when it is coming to you. You have plenty of time to kick it away from you before those cats can hurt you,” the huddled patas looked blankly back at Kyle. “The Dark Master isn’t going to try, you guys have to,” again his comments seemed to have no effect on the monkeys. “Don’t you get it? All he wants to do is control you and embarrass you. He uses you, mistreats you and all you do is obey him,” Kyle looked at Cato who was amused by Kyle’s desperate attempt to rally his team.
“They respect me because they fear me. I’m surprised that you have not learned that yet. If you fail to do so, you will not live much longer. Now, let’s ‘play ball’ as you say.”
Stirred by bravado that competition infuses Kyle boldly responded, “You confuse respect and fear big guy.” He stumbled to the mid field area like a wounded soldier who refuses to acknowledge his wound.
The pantars’ employment of their stalking instinct had overwhelmingly turned the tide in the game. Time and again they intimidated the monkey where the ball was directed to and raced toward the goal. The giant sloth who had no sense of what was going on blocked shot after shot by his mere size. The pantars inability to accurately direct the ball further kept the contest from getting out-of-hand. As the first half was ending the pantars once again began an assault. This time however a monkey stood his ground and kicked the approaching ball in the other direction. Well after the ball was hit three pantars annihilated the helpless primate. Their vicious attack was over in an instant. The still body of the monkey shook Kyle. He felt responsible for challenging the monkeys earlier.
“Stop the play, stop the play!” Kyle protested. The riled pantars easily retrieved the ball and stormed unattended on the lone sloth who initially blocked the first swipe at the goal. During the ensuing frenzy a mad cat leapt onto the sloth digging his claws and teeth on the sloth’s shoulder and neck. A pursuing pantar directed the loose ball by the tormented sloth.
“They can’t do that,” Kyle yelled in protest as he approached the fatally wounded monkey. The pantar that attacked the sloth released his grip dropping to the ground.
“You’re right, bad pantars, bad pantars,” Cato mocked. “Remember child that this is the Dark Master’s lair. We’re playing the Dark Master’s version of capture the flag. And that’s the end of your first half. You said that there is a time in between before the second and final part of the game begins. You should try to get another player to replace that fallen flea bag. Good luck with that,” Cato smirked.