Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Master of Pong (Short Story)

I swept the last bit of peanut shells, a chip bag, a piece of banana peel, and some leaves into my dustpan. My area was now clear, and I leaned against the bars behind me to admire my work. I felt a poking in my side again. “Cut it out, Maurice,” I said to the small orangutan. He was much too small for his age, but stronger and more mischievous than those several years his senior. He was the most flaming ginger in the zoo as well, aside from me. We had a bond, so I requested his area for trash duty every single transfer even though it was always the grimiest.
I was in training to become an In-House Custodian Associate, a huge step up and raise from a Zoo Grounds Trash Boy. I would be in charge of cleaning up the feces and trash inside my assigned animal’s cage rather than outside of it. That would be the dream. But I would have to wait another eight to twelve months for that promotion.
Maurice noticed my boredom and started pulling off leaves from his perch and tossing them through the bars to give me something to do. We were a team, him and I. I headed around the other side of the cage to keep up with the monkey’s mischief when my heart faltered, and I stopped stone-faced. I tried to catch my breath as I took in the vision before me.
There was no mistaking this man with his paper-edge thin eyes that could scald any surface on which they rested. His hair was black and buzzed short and somehow still able to be parted deep on the right side. His stride was precise and quick, as if he possessed too much skill and control to make any unnecessary movements. This man was a god. Chung Feng Nguyen was the best ping pong player that has ever lived. He was the Wayne Gretzky of ping pong. The Michael Jordan, if you will! This man knew he was an idol too, the finest human specimen to ever walk these ungrateful grounds. He wore designer slacks and a luxury leather jacket. He walked with his back arched, his chin raised, each step with power. His face held a sneer.
I needed to get closer to him, maybe make eye contact, sniff his jacket. Could I bring myself to asking for an autograph? This was all too surreal.
I was the reigning Westminster Valley High School ping pong class champ three years ago for the entire four years I attended. I was worshiped in the ping pong club. “Oh no, comrades,” I would say when their praise would become too great, “don’t look up to me. He’s the true master.” I would point to the wall sized mural of Chung in the club room. “We must all strive to be like Him.”
This, right now, was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I had to meet the man who had influenced me to become the man I was today. Maurice jabbered at me in annoyance as he realized that I had been ignoring his cleanup game for the past several minutes, but I headed toward the glory a few yards ahead of me.

The crowds started to part as I got closer and I noticed there was another much smaller Chinese man with the same angry glare right behind his left shoulder. He must have come to the zoo with a brother or friend! I got more excited and picked up my pace. Chung finally met my eyes, and I would have shed a tear of happiness if he hadn’t betrayed a look of alarm in his eyes. It would have been very easy for Chung to have hidden any emotion in his eyes because they were mostly concealed. He must have given me this look on purpose...

*Stay tuned next week for the second half!

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