FATE

CHAPTER I

Good Time.

"Karl, would you mind taking the bag of trash outside." Karane, his older sister said.

"Yes I do mind. Why do I have to do it?" Karl replied.

Karane was in the kitchen, preparing a scrumptious dinner to honor their parents' return. Amidst the noises made by the food as it was prepared, came the voice of Karene, "Isn't it obvious, you're the man here. And it's your duty to make sure that everything is in place."

From the parlour, Karl said, "So I'm a man now. Not bad, you've finally confessed the truth. But making sure that the incongruous things are well put isn't my duty. And it never has been."

"Just go and throw the trash before mum and dad get home." Kerly, Karl's young sister said.

"Why don't you do it girl, it's also a woman's duty to make sure the surrounding is clean."

"Karl, I'm saying this for the last time, go and throw out that trash." Karane sternly said.

"It's not our problem that you decided to be born in the middle of girls and happen to be the only boy." Kerly pertly said.

"Fine I'll do it. But only this once." Karl stood up and walked to the trash bin and picked up a smelly and fluffy black bag.

He went by the kitchen and made a right turn. Eventually, he opened the front door and went over to the green waist length bin by the roads edge. He opened it and was welcomed by repugnant rotten smells. Immediately, he dropped the black trash bag inside and closed the lid of the bin. He stepped away from it and stood in the paved sidewalks, eyeing the small grocery that opened

recently. He gave a questioning look at his house, then the groccery. The work those two had been doing was far from done, and his parents weren't here. And he had nothing to do in particular. So he decided to kill some time at the grocery.

"It's a man's duty to make sure everything is in place," he laughed to himself as he crossed the road.

His hands were in his pockets and he kept smiling about something. Reaching the entrance to the shop, Karl spotted Greg and Lewis, his classmates, looking for something in the shelves. Immediately as he entered the shop, his and Lewis' eyes met.

"Well, well, well, look what the tides brought in," Lewis said with a smile.

"Wow, what are you doing here Karl? Aren't you supposed to be in bed by now?" Greg teased.

"I would ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?" Karl said.

"Isn't it obvious," Greg began, "I'm getting my girl a gift for her birthday, and Lewis here is helping me with the selection."

"Or you would say you've brought me here to look through a thousand girl stuff and try them on," Lewis said.

"My man, I have to get the perfect gift for my girl. And you're exactly what I need to find that perfect gift for my precious angel, my queen, my cuddle buddy. My perfect sweet girl, she..." Greg dreamily said.

"OK we don't want to hear how you two love each other," Lewis interrupted, "by the way, Karl, did you come here to get something for your sister... Or... Um... your girlfriend."

Karl looked at the floor and thinking about what answer he could give Lewis. As he was at it, Greg cackled and said, "Girlfriend, him? Nah don't think so. This guy got dumped by Marin a week ago. And guess who she dumped him for."

"You." Lewis guessed.

"No not me. But it would be a dream come true if she did. Let me tell you, she dumped him for a dude who was transferred recently. This guy here is so stupid that he won't accept it, he keeps interfering with Marin's relationship." Greg teased and started laughing. Karl clenched his teeth and balled his fists.

"Are you getting angry, I hope I don't get toasted." Greg foolishly teased and laughed

harder.

But before Karl could do anything, he heard a car pulling up on the other side of the road. Looking at it, he recognized the grey shining metal cover and the half-broken back-light on the left. But what reminded him of home was the plate number and black inscription of ... DO. Peterson, at the base of the plate-number grid.

"Got to get home or mummy is gonna be real mad." Greg continued with his laughing and teasing. Looking with a cold stare at Greg and an apologetic one at Lewis, Karl stepped out of the shop and ran to the other side of the road.

Mr. Peterson was first to step out of the car. With rowed-up sleeves, he banged the door and went behind the car. He opened the boot and pulled out three large bags. When he closed it, he produced a sigh of relief and lit a fag. Karl neared the car when Mrs. Peterson came strongly out of the car. Standing behind his father, Karl said, "Hey... dad. You're back from your trip?"

Mr. Peterson was caught offguard. With a jolt, he turned and faced Karl. "Holy crap, it's just you Karl. You wanna give your old man a heart attack." Mr. Peterson said, with a voice that still trembled a bit. He even dropped his cigarette to the ground.

"Well timed young man," Mrs. Peterson said, "help your father carry these things inside."

Karl, who would do anything to avoid any interrogative questions, was already hauling one four-wheeled bag to the house.

"Be careful there now Karl with that bag." Mrs. Peterson said as Karl forced the bag through the door. When it was inside, he dragged it to the parlour and came back out with Karane and Kerly. Karane and Karl carried a big lumpey brown bag to the house. When they came for the last one, Greg and Lewis were exiting the shop. Greg was holding some brown paper-bag. Karl watched the two for some time, until they made a left turn and joined the other road.

"Are those friends of yours?" a feminine voice said behind Karl. With a slight startle, Karl turned and answered, "You know you shouldn't sneak up on

people. You scared me a little."

"Scared, a little? No way. You were terrified and quaked to the bone. You scardy cat, how are you gonna protect Marin if you're a timid jerk?" Karane said.

"Can we not talk about that right now?" Karl plainly said.

"What's wrong, you're afraid of talking about your girlfriend in front of me? You shouldn't hide such stuff from your sister, the doctor for dating and advice." Karane purposely said.

"She's not my girlfriend," Karl proclaimed, "at least not anymore. And I would like it if we never talk about her!"

"There you go again, shutting me out of a matter I should help with. When you say Marin isn't your girlfriend anymore, what do you mean—was she cheating on you, or you on her?" the persistent Karane said.

"Just shut up and let's get this damn bag inside. Besides, even if I did tell you it wouldn't change a thing." Karl peeved his voice.

"But offloading the weight of your problems and sharing them with someone helps in resolving matters faster and easier." Karane said as they carried the last bag inside. All the way, Karl said nothing. Only when they put the overloaded mega bag down did he make two sighs and breathed-out words. He did not say that he was angry and depressed about something but he clearly showed it on his face. Karl wasn't good at hiding things, especially from Karane. But he was one complicated work, he could remarkably switch between two expressions at light speed. Even so, Karane's sharp eagle eyes saw the pain and sorrow in the blue clear eyes of Karl. She thought it best to not ask him anything. Besides, their parents and Kerly were here. And how bad could the thing causing Karl to be not comfortable talking about be?

"My dear Kerly, I missed you. Now come to papa." Mr. Peterson bent his knees and spread his long, buffy hands. Both Kerly and her father sat in a chair directly facing the entrance to the room. With Karl on the opposite side and Karane on the other, the family sat facing each other, like in a family meeting. The three big bags were in the centre.

"You dirty worthless son of square bittle," a voice said. It came from the TV. "Who was watching that?" Mrs. Peterson asked. Already, Kerly's and

Karene's eyes were fixed on Karl, as a woman on TV took a knife to kill her raper.

"Nevermind, it's just TV shows. Besides, I have something important to tell you. I don't want to ruin this moment." Mrs. Peterson continued, "Honey, if you would." She turned to her husband and gestured at the bags. With Kerly still on his lap, he bent forward and opened the first bag nearest him. When the zipper lapsed to the end, the children saw a collection of different ornaments and some small hand-size pictures. Mr. Peterson didn't wait to explain but immediately un-zipped the second and third bag. The second bag was the fluffy and soft one Karl carried. It contained clothes and different hoods and parkas. The last one was the most stunning. Unlike the other two, that the third bag had unusual sets of boxes. Finally done with the bag opening, Mr. Peterson sat back on his chair with Kerly still on his lap. He said, "Now that that's done, we may as well go and have dinner."

"Not so fast honey, we still have to unbag everything and sort them out." Mrs. Peterson reminded.

"But that's gonna take forever. These things are so many I might die of hunger halfway through it." Mr. Peterson childishly said.

"Not on my watch you won't," Mrs. Peterson came in, "I'll make sure I give you the 'kiss of life' when you do. Besides, I'm curious myself about what is in the boxes. I'm sure it'll take just a minute."

Unfortunately for Mr. Peterson, "just a minute" turned into thirty minutes. He was now a fully fledged hungry monster. Even Karl was beginning to feel peckish. Even so, they were done with the first bag and were halfway through the second. In the first bag, there were some precious ornaments and about a million hand-size pictures. Karene and Kerly, being girls and behaving as girls, gaped at each new necklace or photo they came across. For Karl, he just looked at the shining prizes and a million small hand-size faces staring at him. Who the people were, he had not a single clue. But his curiosity was stolen by the last bag with boxes — book size brown boxes. They were stacked proficiently and with great effort from the smallest at the top to the largest at the base. After some more minutes, the second bag

was finally emptied, with clothes and parkers scattered and heaped on the floor. Finally, the interesting thing was about to happen.

Shuffling some of the clothes to the sides, Mr. Peterson crouched beside the last bag of boxes. Unlike the tired and bored expression he had while opening the last two boxes, his face changed to a serious and stern expression. For a moment, he just eyed the boxes as if wanting them to make a movement. In that time, Karl couldn't stop himself from moving closer to his father. But in a split second, Mr. Peterson's face was back to its warm and nonchalant state.

"This here kids," he began, "is something that will blow your minds. When you see it, I want each and everyone of you to keep it to yourselves, never to tell anyone about it." He lifted a box and put his hand over its seal.

"It's okay dad, your secret is safe with us," Kerly reassured her father.

"Are you sure?" Mr. Peterson asked.

"Of course we are. Besides, I'm sure it's not that big a deal of what is in the boxes," Karane answered, still gloating at the shining ornaments in her hands.

Mr. Peterson pulled the sealing tape off the box cover and deliberately seemed uncertain about whether to open it or not. After a period of undecisiveness, he opened the cover and inside it, a silvery sheet stood as another cover to the goods. Removing it, Mr. Peterson and the others feasted their eyes on small silvered and golden sharp and pen sized bullets. At first it was a mere gasp and expression, but in realisation, all faces turned cold and stunned. Karl's face was blank of anything, save for the surprise in his eyes. For Mrs. Peterson and Karene, they goggled and stared in frozen state at the realistic death causing darts called bullets. Everyone but Kerly was incaptivated by unknown thoughts and phantomic danger. With a happy face that stunned the other three onlookers, Kerly dashed and knelt beside her father. Immediately, she was passing her hand through the box of bullets.

"Wow dad this is cool," she said as she carried some in her hand, "are these bullets!? Like real bullets? Exactly like the ones you used to splatter those dooshbag's brains?"

Mr. Peterson looked at his seven year old daughter and went through what she said.

"Hey Kerly, where did you pick up such words. I hope it's not —" Mr. Peterson's voice died out but his blazing gaze ended the sentence.

"Anyway," he said after a moments silence, "that's not the agenda here." Mr. Peterson put down the box of bullets and grabbed another. This time, he opened the box with haste. Like spell-bound, the three frozen adults moved closer to Mr. Peterson. They froze harder as they glimpsed at gun parts and more bullets. Even so, Kerly's excitement kept growing.

After a time of silence, where Mr. Peterson unwrapped boxes of knives, grenades, bullets, more knives and finally, actual guns, Karl finally relaxed. In mockery, Kerly was already playing with the things, even a gun.

"Put that back!" Karl exclaimed at his little sister.

"What if I don't, what will you do? You're gonna force me aren't you, but not until I kill you first." Kerly said, pointing the gun at Karl and making Phuu-phuu sounds from the mouth.

"Don't point that thing at me, it's dangerous you know." Karl moved a step closer.

"Don't dare move or I'll pull the trigger and splatter your brain all over the room." Kerly warned.

Karl actually bought it and stood still. "Put your hands on your head and turn around slowly." Kerly ordered. Once more, Karl obeyed and took it seriously. Meekly, he did what Kerly ordered.

"Now start talking before I send you to hell where you belong." She sounded all serious and real.

"About what exactly?" Karl tensely said.

"Don't make me hit you you jackass. Say it, who sneaks out on Saturday nights to go and see a girl. And who steals my savings each week!" Kerly ordered. Karl swallowed hard. With a sweaty and tensed face, he began "I don't understand what you're talking about. I don't sneak out of the house on Saturdays but I may be held accountable for the money." Karl said. "Don't play dam with me you vile hound," Kerly moved the gun's edge to Karl's skull, "I know you always sneak out of the house through the back window."

"I still don't understand, I'm sure you were dreaming or imagining things." Karl said. "You're saying I'm lying now, eh?" She pushed the gun down harder on Karl's head.

"I think that's enough playing for tonight Sweetie," Mrs. Peterson begun, "let's all —"

"Don't disturb me you worthless cow, or I'll kill you first." Kerly sternly said.

"Kerly, what on earth are you saying?" Karene asked. "Yes, bring that back." Mr. Peterson added.

"Shut up... all of you, or I'll split his damn dog's brain." Kerly threatened, and moved the gun harder on Karl's head.

"Now you vile hound, give me your wallet and you'll go free, all of you." Kerly turned to Karl. "But, why do —" Karl begun.

"Just shut up and do it, or your obnoxious sister dies." She cut him off. Karl moved his right hand to his back pocket and pulled out a black leathery wallet.

"Put it on the floor." Kerly ordered. Karl obediently put the wallet on the floor and slowly raised his arm back. Kerly immediately got the wallet and dropped it in her own pocket. Clearing her throat, she regained her composure and said,

"Now for the blood shed. Time to die you lame-brain." Kerly proudly said. Behind him, Karl heard the sound of the gun-levers quickly get prepared to fire.

"What's your last word?" Kerly asked.

"Um... I want to say I loved you all. And I enjoyed my stay here, but I'll make sure to beg heaven to save some spots for you all." Karl wimply said.

"Ok then, time to die. Goodbye asshole!" Kerly exclaimed and pulled the trigger. There was a click sound, then total silence.

As Karl found out that he was still alive, a cackled voice laughed sharply behind him. It was a girl's, Kerly's. "You scaredy-cat, you thought I would actually kill you? You're stupid and idiosyncratic." Kerly said, slightly tittering. Truly, Karl did take it seriously, he was sweating and shaking. Not because of Kerly's threats but due to the closeness of the gun to his head.

"Karl you're a loser. Hey dad, what did you think of my terrorist act?" Kerly happily asked.

"It was... Um... great... perfect. You almost seemed like you were about to kill him for sure." Mr. Peterson hesitated with the answer.

"Well I would have if there were bullets in it. Maybe I can do it again, with actual bullets this time." Kerly said and looked at the box of bullets.

"Absolutely not. That's enough messing with guns for you today." Mr. Peterson said as he got the gun from his daughter.

"I have some words I would like to ask," Mrs. Peterson begun, "firstly, John, why did you bring home prohibited and dangerous stuff. The second is you young missy. You're gonna explain where you learnt how to operate a gun, and how to shoot." She looked at her husband, Mr. John Peterson, who was sorting bullets. The glare she gave him beckoned him to start talking. He said, "I was going to tell you once we were alone. And I did try to do it when we were loading them but I found no perfect time."

"You sneaked a bag of guns in the car and told me it was a surprise. John, do you know what you've done?" Mrs. Peterson questioned.

The kids kept quiet, save for Kerly who still adored the guns with low gapes, and watched their parents talk for a time. When Mr. Peterson unwrapped the last box and put the items on the floor, Mrs. Peterson scowled at him.

"You really want trouble with the police John, don't you?" Mrs. Peterson kept scowling at him.

"The police will never find out. That I can assure you." Mr. Peterson tried to get his wife on the right track.

"How are you sure about that John? With little privacy in this community, there's absolutely no guarantee that no one knows that you brought a bag of weapons!" Mrs. Peterson raised her voice at the last words.

"All of them will if you keep shouting like that." John said.

"So I'm the loud one now. At least I'm not like someone who went and brought weapons so that his children can threaten and kill each other!" Mrs. Peterson still spoke at a high note.

"Wait till I explain ok," Mr. Peterson begun, "honey, I'm sorry for not letting you know about this from the start. And to all of you too, I'm sorry." He looked at the kids, then continued, "But I had to, it was important. I did it alone because I knew all of you would never say yes. All these bags here are from overseas, a former army friend of mine sent them. But no one in the neighbourhood knows."

"Hey daddy, what are you gonna do when the police find out?" Kerly asked.

Mr. Peterson gave no answer but only looked at the weapons on the floor. In total, there were about ten guns on the floor, three of which were guns with a huge brown barrel, another three with a thinner and lighter make-up, the remaining were black pistols and a three-dozen knives.

Kerly said once more, "When they come, I'll be a commando and blast their chicken brains to pieces. I'll protect you all."

Once again, questioning faces looked at Kerly. Where did a seven year old girl learn such stuff?

"Hold it there young lady. You first have some explaining to do," Mrs. Peterson intervened. "Where did you learn all that killing and savagery language?"

At first, Kerly seemed unwilling and for the first time since the guns came in, she seemed perplexed. Eventually, she was back to her normal self, a jolly and strong curious face. She began, "Through research and observation."

"Observation?... Research?" Mrs. Peterson repeated the words.

"Yeah darling, what do you mean by observation and research?" Mr. Peterson asked.

"I've been studying on wars and weapons recently. And now, I know a dozen weapons that can kill a person in an instant." Kerly proudly said.

"That is highly prohibited Kerly. A child at your age isn't suppose to be dealing with such matters." Karane said.

"Like it's right for you to be dating someone in the university." Kerly sarcastically said. Karane winced and shrugged like she didn't know what was happening.

"But she's right sweetie," Mrs. Peterson said, "you shouldn't be involving yourself in such things."

"I know mum, but I want to be helping dad to do his job." Kerly remarked.

"Even so Kerly, you're too young to use an actual gun in public. Besides, you need a licence to allow you to even own one." Mrs. Peterson continued sympathising.

"That's what you always say. I'm too young to do anything, you never let me do anything i want. I want to help dad with his job. Cause I've seen how hard he works for us, and I love the sound of gunshots and smell of gunpowder. There's nothing scary about guns, they're just a bunch of things that are friendly if you're not in front of the bullet-hole. Besides, dad and I have had several time together at his workplace, so I'm used to gun sounds now."

Mrs. Peterson looked at her husband in surprise. Mr. Peterson recalled all those times he took Kerly to his workplace with him.

"So you mean you've been observing how dad uses a gun? That explains why you're an expert at handling it," Karene said.

"Stop praising her," Karl drawled.

But Karene was back in her full form. Her dazed former expression had melted away. She titteringly said, "Is someone jealous that their little sister is spending more time with her father and learning adult stuff?"

Karl gave a grunt. But it was true that he felt uneasy that Kerly knew about guns while he couldn't even touch it. It was a shame, the male child is the one who's supposed to inherit their father's wisdom and knowledge.

He felt guilty and ashamed for not seeing this coming. He also felt angry for the show Kerly put up earlier and his wallet. His dear wallet. But most importantly, he felt really hungry. As a reminder, his stomach grumbled that instant.

"Someone sounds like they have a dragon in their stomach," Mrs. Peterson changed the topic, "let's go have dinner, it's getting late."

Happily, Karl walked to the dining room and embraced the sweet smells in the air. On the table, three bowls of scrumptious dishes were placed at the centre in a straight line. Besides the bowls, small plates and cup-sized serving plates. When the food was served, it looked even more worthy to drool over. Offering a prayer, Karl swallowed some of the words and cruised it to hyper. Finally, it was time to dig in. Karl and his father decisively gobbled down their food. Looking at them, anyone could get the idea that they had stayed a whole week without eating.

"When a man has to eat, no one is allowed to look at him. Eating is what makes a real man. And a healthy man is a wealthy man, when he's healthy and fit, it's not hard to trap for himself a lady or two." Mr. Peterson stuffed a spoon of fried rice in his mouth. Karl too followed his father's words by pulling in another bowl of fried rice and a steak of meat. The girls could only watch the two fully fledged hungry beasts tear into the food. They were unstoppable and fast. But surprisingly, both Karl and his father ate like

civilized people, which was contradicting with the rate the food was being taken. Eventually, Kerly joined the madness of the two. She speedily ate her food and in no time, she raced for another refill.

"Slow down dear, or you'll get choked. This isn't a competition," Mrs. Peterson calmly said. But deep down her heart, she was glad that her stubborn relentless Kerly was finally getting her nutrition from actual food, in large amount. What more could a mother ever ask for? Mrs. Peterson had a happy family, healthy and strong children and a loving sweet husband. Provided the family was happy, she too was happy. With that, Mrs. Peterson relaxed in her chair and smiled to herself.

Karane spotted her mother beaming in her chair from the corner of her eye. Her face was glowing, with her black shoulder-length hair resting loosely on the chair's back. She seemed pleased and forgot about the gun and weapon stuff. Which was a good thing, it meant that at last, the family meeting would be dismissed. Finding peace too, Karane relaxed and ate her food with a smile. In times like these where family was together and happy, what would actually go wrong?

After dinner, Karl immediately disappeared in the inhabitants of his room. He didn't care what the others were doing. Besides, he felt a little sleepy. When he pounced into bed, he unwillingly went through his day. Everything seemed normal — going to school, heading to the gym and get some training, then the pitch and playing football, and lastly coming home and spotting Marin heading into a coffee shop. That last part stayed with him. Why was she going in the coffee shop? The thing he disliked was his stupidity of not following her and finding some information. But he was glad that he didn't. He didn't want to seem like a stalker or creep. Besides, if he found her with that —, he would definitely not know what he could do. Forcefully, he suppressed that thought. It must be just a rumor, Marin would never break their sacred promise. Maybe she was meeting up with some friend or just went to have coffee alone. But Marin was a person who hated going to places alone. Karl knew this from childhood. She definitely was meeting up with someone, but who? Karl told himself it was a friend of hers or a relative. All he could do was hope he was right. If he wasn't —, for now, he could linger in the darkness and shadows of the issue.