The Wave and the Kid

“Waves are playful again.” the kid realized.

Staring at the sight of the sea while sitting on the cold concrete bench along the shore, the kid swims in his imagination. “When will my wave be as high as the raging wave of the sea.” He whispered to himself. The kid kept on staring as if his eyes control the movement of the waves.

***

The day already started; the shore is again bustling with loud noises from small food kiosks. The clanking sound of their metal trays and casseroles and buzzing noises from the vendors talking about the hassle of working very early and getting off late has become the consistent alarm for the people sleeping close by. It's no different for the kid, the kid wakes up whenever his unsleeping ears hear those sounds. With his thin body, he is used to pulling himself up from the concrete floor that was as if sticking frozen against his skin. 

“Last night is really cold.” He complained. The large carton board that was meant to case refrigerators has been his blanket for a bit time now and that morning that blanket is wet and crumbling on his skin.

“I need to find a new one.” 

The kid rises from his stone bed, then struggles to fold the carton board which is taller than him. He still then neatly folded the carton board and stashed it behind a garbage container as a contingency if ever he fails to find a replacement. Standing beside the garbage bin he glances around, thinking where he should go now when you have a whole day to do everything you need to do. He, then, started to walk towards the food kiosks, looking at what’s in store in each stall. He forced himself to look inside the stalls, tiptoeing for he can barely see what’s behind those tall stalls. At one of the stalls, he saw porridge being prepared, the vendor is stirring a giant pot of chicken porridge. The steam from the large pot can be seen as it hazes the glass casement in front of it.

“That’s hearty.” He spoke to himself, He walks closer, praying that he can somehow, at least, smell the fragrant porridge mixed with spring onions, ginger, and toasted garlic. He walks even closer, up until he already faces the thin metal sheet wall saying “tasty, hot porridge”, the thin wall that separates him, and a delicious breakfast. Then, out of nowhere, in the middle of his fantasy breakfast buffet, someone taps him on his shoulder.

“Kid, are you buying something?” The man in an apron asked. “He is probably another vendor.” The kid said in his mind. He has observed that those kiosks commonly have two employees manning each stall, one to receive the order and the other one to prepare the order.

“Kid, Kid.” The man said while snapping his finger in front of my wandering eyes. “Are you buying something?” He repeated.

“Uhm… No. I don’t have any money.” The kid mumbled softly. The man has probably still heard what the kid said and shouts at him.

“Then, get lost! You stink! Go away! You’re driving away those who can buy.” He rages onto the kid.

The kid sadly left the stall, his head became heavy as he walks away with his eyes fixed at the road and his mind being capsized by the waves of reality lauded by the man. 

I haven’t eaten anything since Sunday and now is Wednesday, the thought crosses the mind of the kid. He’s been starving for days after only eating a piece of chocolate candy he picked up along the sandy road last Sunday when the one-day carnival was set up near the beach.

He can still remember the scene; those beaming lights, loud screeching sound of bumper cars, dinging bells whenever a kid wins a stuffed toy, screams of joy and panic from the roller coaster, and the smell of buttery popcorn sold in overload bags. The place is festive and beautiful, that is the first time when he has forgotten the sound of the waves, and in the midst of all the festive noise that he hears he felt the quietness that the waves can never give to him. For a while, in that very instant he surfed through the wave, and with broken slippers, rugged shirt, and loose pants he ventured to a world he wants to never leave.

“We’re closing!” The loud echoing sound booms all over the carnival. The kid heard it, loud and clear while seating on a wooden bench and staring at the Ferris wheel finishing its last ride. From the happy kid that he longed to be, the kid is the kid again.

“I can hear the waves.” He whispered to himself.

He stood up, went out of the carnival, and left as if the waves have called him back. On his way, half-buried with dust, he saw a chocolate candy, he picked it up, held it tightly, and went back to the bench he so-called home. The carnival lights went dimmer until all of a sudden the place has been the same again, pitch dark and cold. The kid shivers as he walks back to pass through the night.

***

The kid continues to walk far from the stall, sensing that the man is still staring at him with his eyes saying: “Go on, farther.”

He continued to walk until he came across the playground, he had never played in that playground before as he was told that he cannot. He was dragged to walk near it and watch other kids playing. Outside of the fence, he stood, his hands straight down and his back straight, after what happened at the food stall, he felt a tight bandage around his body.

Kids laughing and screaming tormented his ears, he can’t do anything but to let the sound enter. The sound travels in his ears fast and loud like a roller coaster, repeatedly, it seems endless, but one sound stood out, He didn’t hear the sound, he felt it.

“Mom!” A kid shouted.

A tear flowed on the kid’s face. He walked closer, watching it closely.

“What if I also have a mother?” He asked. “How am I if only I have my mother.”

The kid continued to watch the kid and his mother, he watched over everything, he saw everything that he doesn’t have. He then went crying, as the life he always wanted to have is just a fence away. It’s not a place to sleep, a bowl of hot porridge, a carnival, or a piece of candy that will make him the happiest, the only that can make him complete is to have a family. He stood, watching, while back at the beach the waves still continue to roll.

“Waves are playful today.” The kid whispered.