I didn't lose my mind because I was watching how calm Konu was. Now, when I’m thinking about it, I think he must have done something like that many times before. When Formi stopped moving, Konu kept telling me that it was alright, but for me, this was the end of the world. Watching a man dying in a cruel agony like that was and still a nightmare. He didn't stop there as he gave me a heavy metallic tube and asked me to beat the dead body. I was crying out loud, and I was trying to run away. Konu didn't let me, and I started to beat Formi's face. I did beat his face for a good time until it was unrecognizable. The blood spattered everywhere, on our clothes and faces, and I felt reborn. I felt the presence of God, the Truth – Konu.
The guardians found us in the court all covered in blood playing with the yellow ball and laughing like there was no tomorrow. They took us to solitary lockup rooms in the mentally challenged section of the orphanage. Trying desperately to keep another scandal away from the press, the administration called the army’s recruiters. The army’s special forces recruiters prefer orphans, and we were their top targets. Most of us already come with rage, so they don't have to teach us hatred. Plus, there is no accountability in case an orphan child dies in training or later in combat.
When they heard our story, they came the same day. For them, this was a prize. Two kids that teamed up and planned to commit a horrific murder was the best-case scenario for them. There was smartness, logical thinking, good social behavior and camaraderie, planning, courage, determination, and the cherry on top was the crime wasn’t just a random act. It had the best motive ever – vengeance. That was the perfect cocktail the army was looking for.
The army psychologists tested us for a couple of days, then sent us to the worst place for a kid to be, the Special Forces Black Unit where we started our training. It’s a suicide unit for special undercover missions. The training lasted five years, and we managed to survive extreme battle conditions where some of us perished. I won my freedom after serving in the Black Unit for five missions. We were separated after that as Konu was forced to stay in the Black Unit’s land force. I heard that he was phenomenal. I never doubted that.
I was transferred to the regular army’s sea forces with high recommendations. We kept in touch, of course, but we didn't often meet after that. Memories started to fade away, I started to think that we were much different now than the two kids we once were.
That was until two years ago when somebody sent me a box from an unknown address. I found it sitting on my desk. I opened it and found a yellow ball and a phone number with a note that read, “Yo! Can you throw it back?”
I immediately knew who the sender was.
I called, and he responded, “Hello…”
I said, “Where did you find this kind of ball? I thought no one was making them anymore.”
He responded with a laugh, “Come to my home. I am inviting you.”
The morning after, I went to his place. I brought him a nice cake as I thought he may still be chubby because even the Black Unit couldn’t straighten him up, but I was wrong. When he opened the door, it seemed like the army had gotten rid of his round belly. We just stared at each other, and finally, with a big smile, he said, “Good, you’re here.”
He showed me to his guest room and offered me a nice tea with mint. He didn't seem to be married, just like me, although I didn't ask him the question. Through the slightly opened door of his small library, I could see the navy files piled on his desk. He is still monologue that didn’t change, and I guess he seemed like he knew more about me than I knew about him, like he was following my career all this time. Just to break the awkward silence, I asked him, “So, did they finally teach you how to swim?”
“They tried to, but after you left, they gave up. They said I’m too chubby to be in the water,” he said with a laugh, “That’s why they kept me in the land forces.” Then he said seriously, “Jazir, how are you, my old friend?”
I replied, “I am fine, thanks for asking. Konu, honestly, I was too shy to ask about you. I thought we are different now, and there is no need to keep and remember our small, childish accomplishment,” I was amazed how open I can be with him.
He replied, “That’s what made us who we are now.”
There was a moment of silence, calm, and harmony, he and me zipping a lovely tea on a calm afternoon. Then he said quietly, “I wanted you to be the first person to know this. In the very near future, I will be appointed the head of the armies.”
Upon hearing that, I felt a shock mixed with fear, a feeling
