Mid-afternoon, late summer and the air was thick with the drone of lazy insects and the heavy resinous scent that oozed from the scrubby oil trees that surrounded the clearing. Kihn crouched near the middle. The heat beating down on his shirtless sun blackened back and broad shoulders. Every muscle and sinew in his lean body was tensed as he prepared for the strike. Nothing moved. His concentration was so intense that he had lost all sense of time and neither knew nor cared how long he had been crouching like this. He wasn’t even aware of the heat and the beads of sweat that had begun to track across his body. He was only conscious of one thing. He needed to hit the target perfectly. If he didn’t then it would all be over. A miss in a situation like this was not the kind of thing you came back from. Again he judged the distance and gauged the exact line his projectile would take, adjusting his aim to perfection. In final preparation for the shot he tensed his muscles still further till every fibre seemed about to rupture and his sinews stood out.

Then came the release.

Suddenly unrestrained, his thumb flicked forwards propelling the small stone sphere with such speed that it was impossible to follow its flight. It was in the air for the briefest of moments before striking the sandy ground with a dull thump and the slightest of clicks.

Perfection.

The impact lifted a big green marble out of the dust in the middle of the small arena and sent it in a high arc out over the boundary markings to land on the earth beyond. Kihn let out a soft sigh as all the tension left him. He had done it! Let the celebrations begin!

There were no celebrations. The closest it got was a groan of agonised disappointment from Yanko as he realised that he had lost the game and with it his prize possession, the big green marble. Kihn had put his whole marble collection up as counter stake. It had taken him years to build it up. It would have been impossible to re-build had he lost it. But now that didn’t matter. He had won and Yanko, the great contender, had lost. Kihn made a show of groaning like one of the men from the village as he got slowly to his feet, his smug self-satisfaction all too evident.

“O.K. losers that was today’s lesson from your master. Now, I’m outta here.” He stooped briefly to gather up his own marbles and then, with special ceremony, picked up Yanko’s big green between thumb and forefinger. He held it up to the light for a moment and considered the way the big marble glistened and sparkled before letting out an overly dramatic sigh of satisfaction. Then he tossed it into the air and snatched it back. His last act was to grin broadly at Yanko before turning wordlessly and swaggering away.

Next to leave was Yanko himself. He was second oldest and had always fancied himself as the leader of the gang. He had challenged Kihn in the hope of weakening the older boy’s grip on the leadership. If he had won he would have got all of Kihn’s marbles. All of them! Not only was this wealth beyond measure but it would have shut Kihn out of any future games. Then all the boys would have dropped Kihn and begged him to become leader. It was such a great plan and so simple. Too simple, it hadn’t worked. Kihn had won and not only had Yanko lost any chance of challenging for the leadership but also his beautiful big green marble. He loved that marble. Everyone knew it was the best in the village. A wretched feeling of defeat and despair pervaded every cell of his body. He dragged himself to his feet and staggered off battling to supress the nausea rising in his gut. The last thing he needed right now was to embarrass himself still further by puking or, even worse, bawling in front of the younger boys.

The other boys crouching around the circle remained stunned into silence as they watched the two older boys leaving. Had they just witnessed a miracle? A shot like that was unheard of. Lifting such a big marble from so far away! It was incredible but Kihn had done it. Kihn the Incredible had done it. With the exception of Yanko he was much older than the other boys and carried the mantle of undisputed leader well. They all looked up to him. Kihn could run the fastest. Kihn could jump the highest. Kihn could throw the furthest. Kihn always had the best ideas for games. And now this. Kihn the Incredible had pulled off an impossible shot and stolen Yanko’s legendary big green. What remained to be said? He had now achieved almost godlike status in their eyes and they could only worship him wholeheartedly. The group began to disperse as the boys got up in ones and twos and left. Some remained silent whilst others whispered to each other in reverent tones. All were in a state of wonder. Eventually, only two boys remained.

Trivian’s eyes hadn’t moved from the dent in the middle of the marble field that marked the strike point of the small blue. In his mind’s eye he kept running over that last shot again and again, backwards and forwards, fast and slow. He needed to study it, to understand it. Wallic sprawled opposite him intrigued by his companion’s concentration. Eventually, Trivian looked up at Wallic.

“I could make that shot!” he said with a mixture of conviction and astonishment.

“Shit ya could!” was Wallic’s balanced reply.

“No really, speed, position, angle. I know what he did.”

“I do to! He hit it so hard that it flew like a birdy all the way over there!” Wallic flapped his hands in mimicry of a bird in flight before waving in the general direction the big green had landed.

“No, no, that’s not it! Even with that power, Yanko’s big green is a big heavy marble, it should have just dug in. At most just rolled in the dirt a bit. There’s more to it. Kihn’s blue hit the ground first! Do you see? It bounced up from underneath. That’s how he got it to lift out of the dirt!”

“So?”

“So? So, now I understand how he did it. So, now I could do it myself.”

“Shit ya could!” Wallic was remaining adamant on this point.

“Yes I could!”

“Go on then. Show me.” Wallic challenged. Trivian tried to hide a nervous gulp. He would have preferred a bit of practice first.

“Can’t, not now, show you tomorrow.”

“So you can’t then.”

“Yes I can, just not today.” Trivian ransacked his brain for a good excuse. “Because I don’t have a big marble like Yanko’s to show you with.” It was true. Trivian was an accomplished marble player and had built up one of the largest marble collections in the village. Nevertheless, he was a small marble specialist and didn’t possess a single large one. Wallic reached casually into his pocket and tossed his own big red into the middle of the ring.

“Yes you do.” He contradicted. Trivian stifled another gulp. Wallic’s marble was no way as pretty as the big green. The stone had a coarse texture so that no amount of polishing could bring a shine to its dull surface. However, what it lacked in style it made up for in mass being just about the largest and heaviest marble in the village. Trivian could think of no further excuse and accepted that there was no way out now. He crouched down and began to prepare. He turned out his pouch of marbles and made a show of selecting the best one. He picked up a yellow one. It wasn’t really any better than the others but he liked yellow and hoped it would prove lucky. Then he got into position and taking aim as best he could built up as much tension as possible. He was just about to shoot when Wallic spoke.

“And of course, if ya miss I get to keep your yellow.”

“Piss off!” Trivian snapped back. It was clear that Wallic had just wanted to put him off at the crucial moment. “This isn’t a game. I’m just showing you.” Their stares locked in opposition for the briefest moment before Wallic looked away.

“Whatever.” He shrugged.

“Now shut up and let me concentrate.” Demanded Trivian. As reply Wallic let out a snort and waived that Trivian should get on with it. Again Trivian got into position and prepared for the shot. This time there was no interruption and he was able to fire his yellow at its target.

As soon as the marble was in the air it was clear that he had only managed a tiny fraction of the power of Kihn’s shot. Not only was he nowhere near as strong as Kihn to begin with but he had also messed up the release and the marble had rolled off the side of his thumb instead of the tip. It flew forward in a lazy arc, and looked like it was barely going to reach Wallic’s big red marble at all. However, even if Trivian had taken a better shot it would have been doomed to failure. Whilst he had been lost in concentration, Wallic had surreptitiously gathered together a large handful of sand and pebbles. Before the yellow and red marbles even had a chance to strike he threw this into the ring, smothering both spheres and ruining the shot completely. Both boys stared at the pile of dirt with wildly differing thoughts.

“Told you, you couldn’t do it.” taunted Wallic. Trivian was livid. He jumped to his feet and screamed.

“What did you do that for? You spoiled everything!” Wallic got up so that they stood chest to chest.

“Did I shit! That was a shit shot. A turdy turdy shit shot!” he savoured each word as he spat them into Trivian’s face.

“No it wasn’t. It would have worked and you spoiled it.” Trivian growled back.

“Shit shot.”

“No!” Trivian couldn’t help himself and gave Wallic a heavy shove.

“Yes it was!” Wallic shoved back.

“No!” and Trivian shoved even harder.

“Yes!” Each time the shoves got heavier and it didn’t take long until the first punch was thrown. All at once they were at it like wild cats. Wallic was the slightly stronger of the two but Trivian had the edge in speed. He managed to get in several good punches to the chest and gut and a couple of crippling kicks to the shins before Wallic made a lunge and wrestled him into an underarm headlock. He began pummelling Trivian’s head and face with his free hand. Unable to wriggle free Trivian elbowed Wallic in the crotch and the pair collapsed to the floor in a tangled mess of limbs, blows, curses and blood.

For all its ferocity the fight was soon over but with no clear winner. They were so evenly matched that they simply exhausted themselves before a victor could emerge. They rolled away from each other in the dirt and gasped for breath whilst cataloguing their injuries. Trivian’s eye was already beginning to swell and Wallic’s shins and crotch felt like they were about to explode. Both boys clambered to their feet and eyed each other from a safe distance. The fight was clearly over, neither of them had anything left to give. Wallic fished his big red marble out of the dust and began to hobble away. He was just about to round the corner onto the path that led back to the village when he turned for a parting jibe.

“Shit shot!” he called before limping off as quickly as he could. Trivian wanted to run after him but instead his legs buckled and he collapsed to his knees. Perhaps it was for the best. What could he hope to do even if he did catch up with Wallic on the path? Instead, with his one good eye, he searched through the sand for his marbles. With them all safely back in his pouch he got to his feet and began shuffling back to his family’s hut.

“Where have you come from looking like that?” Trivian’s father looked up from sharpening some fish hooks as his son staggered into their one room shack and slumped onto a chair.

“Playing marbles!”

“Playing marbles? What with, badgers?”

“Kihn won Yonko’s big green off him. He knocked it right out of the ring.”

“And it flew up and hit you in the eye did it?”

“Na, we were just practicing afterwards.”

“We?” His father didn’t really need to ask. He knew the answer already.

“Yeh, Wallic and me.”

“Well,” concluded his father, “that explains everything then doesn’t it.”

Not only was Wallic his sister’s child but the boys had been born on the same night some 11 years hence. At the time their births had been greeted with some celebration. For several years previously the fishing village of Tenk had struggled with hardship. Not only had there been a drought but the fish had also disappeared from the bay. In these trying conditions the birth rate had dropped completely away and then along had come Trivian and Wallic.

The night of their births was legendary in the village. There had been a great storm with a howling wind and the first rain in years. The ground had trembled beneath the barrage of the storm and the men had been kept up all night helping each other to secure the boats and strap down the rickety roofs of their shacks. Just before dawn the storm had rolled away leaving the sun to rise in an empty sky over a village two people bigger than the previous day. Thanks to the confusion of that night, nobody was sure which boy had been born first so they agreed that both had been born at exactly the same time making them not only cousins but also twins of a sort. After the rain the oil trees once again budded and the fish returned to the bay. In the sudden abundance there was also a flood of new additions to the population. Everyone agreed, the boys had been the heralds of good fortune.

It appeared that, starting with the celebrated co-incidence of their births, the lives of the two cousins had become inextricably entwined from the outset. Wherever one could be found the other was never far away. However, it couldn’t be claimed that they were best buddies. Sure, they regularly got into scrapes together and helped each other out of the occasional tight spot but they were equally likely to be at each other’s throats. The families had done their best to keep them apart, but it hadn’t worked. Somehow, the boys always ended up gravitating together and, as soon as they did, it was never long before sparks began to fly.

After long discussion, their sibling parents had agreed that they should just let it run its course. Sooner or later the boys would grow up and drop this childish behaviour. It was a good thing that they hadn’t held their breath. 11 years and counting with still no sign of a let up. Trivian’s father was beginning to get concerned. If it carried on much longer then he would have to think how to put a stop to it himself. The blood connection meant that it was quite likely that as adults the cousins were occasionally going to be required to share a boat. A fight at sea could easily prove fatal.

Little did he know that matters were going to be taken completely out of his hands, with catastrophic consequences.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3.