The gates made a thunderous noise as they closed behind us. I was with three of my friends but we were soon split up. Two and two. We all looked the same, skinny, short hair, sad, tired, not wanting to be there.
All we knew about the army were the stories we were told. Parents, Brothers, Uncles, older friends, everyone had a story. Some of them were funny, but most of them were scary. As I walked towards my assigned building I glanced around the barracks. I could only see a tree or two that would give some cover from the burning July sun. The faces of the soldiers who have already been recruited were obviously a clear indication of what would follow.
As I wore my fresh new boots for the first time, the memories of the beach, the clubbing and the fun ran through my mind. I had to soon forget them. All I had to do for the next 26 months of my life was one thing..Obey orders.
The neighborhood of dreams: Chapter 1
He could hear the basket ball bouncing on the street. The noise was getting louder as it was approaching his house. Even though he was half-asleep on the couch, he knew that this was the daily signal that it was time to get out of the house.
The same routine happened on a daily basis. One of the friends would start from his house and would follow the same road to the basketball court..picking up the other friends on the way.
His house was the second to last, so by the time he got out of the house almost everybody was there. Quickly approaching 17 there was not much in his mind. Maybe he would think about liking a girl every now and then but it wasn’t important. School was not either. Not even homework. What quizzed his mind on the way to the basketball court was, what would be the teams today, who would fight with who, who would win and the number of bruises on his legs.
As they approached the basketball court, you could see that it was not like anything you would imagine. The fresh white paint from the lines painted on the street, the non-straight lines on the ground and the ready-to-fall-down baskets gave away that this was the job of amateurs. And more specifically the job of fifteen 16-year old boys coming from the same neighborhood.
This was his neighborhood. It was where he knew everyone and where he was known by everyone. The signature place to be was the park, which would be the most ideal for friendly football games. He remembers that they were afraid from the neighbor; a guy in his 40’s who was a cop and had a mustache. He didn’t like the fact that they played football in the park. Nobody ever understood why, we just guessed that it was a result of middle-age crisis.
Close to the park was the coffee shop, “O Shialis” as we would call it. This was where everyone would meet each other if there was nothing planned in advanced. Everybody would go there except one of the friends. He was on probation for having a fight with the owner’s wife. The coffee shop was run by a very sympathetic guy, who was liked by everyone. No one could say the same about his wife, or the couple who lived below them...they would always cause us trouble.
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