Old Kenny fell on his knees in despair. He was in a daze. Right before his eyes, he watched his burning 3-storey apartment crumble to the ground like a house of cards. His years of toiling had come to nothingness, all because of the doing of some fun-seeking youngsters.
On a spur of mischief, the two youngsters dared each other to throw fire-crackers at the most magnificent house along Bukit Timah Road. A fire-cracker lobbed in the air and hit the buffeting curtain. The blaze grew into an inferno with a strong gust of wind.
"Alas! It's the end, my end," old Kenny murmured, blinking away tears of hysteria. He flopped to the ground as the raging fire engulfed the house voraciously, reducing it to ashes and char. Slowly, he felt a chill invading into his bones, despite the immense heat. In the midst of the crackling and rumbling, images of his childhood days played in lightning speed on his mind.
Shrinking in size, he felt lighter, smaller and younger. He was a child, the child. The fire scene faded away and he moved into a realm in the past.
The gentle morning breeze blew. In the pond, the ducks quacked in merriment. Young Kenny was at the park, his favourite haunt, with his little brother, Timmy. The duo were there, seeking what else but plain fun, at the park. He showed absolute disinterest to the children at the see-saw and slide. To him, the playground is an ultimate bore. His notion of a playground and fun was completely different from a typical 9-year-old.
Armed with a catapult, Young Kenny sniffed for an adventure. He leisurely walked past Mr Tan, deeply buried in the papers. As he sauntered by the pond, his excitement escalated. He could sense an adventure brewing close.
"I could feel it coming," he turned around to face little Timmy who was busy licking his lollipop.
Reaching his hand into his pocket, he gripped his catapult. He smiled. It was there, ready to be put to use anytime. How could it be left out in a good adventure?
On the branch above Mr Tan sat a nest of hatchlings. "Twit twit," the nestlings went in hunger.
Young Kenny looked up. His lips curled into a mischievous grin.
"This is it! The adventure of the day is about to begin!" he said, unable to contain his excitement.
Pulling out the catapult from his pocket, he loaded a pebble, pulled the elastic band right to the maximum and took aim at the nest.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Young Kenny could not believe his good luck. He had more than one target awaiting him on the tree. Hanging on the same tree was a hive! Overwhelmed with exhilaration, he could not wait any longer. He thrilled at the idea of helpless hatchlings falling from their nest. He thrilled to a frenzy to see them unable to flap their wings to take flight for they were still far too weak. When the birds were falling, he would launch his second shot at the beehive. The provoked bees, would then buzz and charge at the birds. What a brilliant plan! How impeccable! He could not help but smirk.
Young Kenny got into position, eyes affixed at his target. He pulled the band hard, getting ready to release when he found himself swept into a maelstrom of confusion…
No longer light and small, his felt his body bigger but aged. The blaze was contained. Firefighters were at the scene. His house was gone with the wind, leaving behind piles of blackened rubble. Old Kenny finally understood how cruel his act at the park was.
Devastated as he was, who could he blame? The fun-seeking youngsters who had set his house ablaze? Sixty years ago, did he not do exactly the same to two homes? Did the nestlings and the bees blame him? Could he not believe in retribution now?
On a spur of mischief, the two youngsters dared each other to throw fire-crackers at the most magnificent house along Bukit Timah Road. A fire-cracker lobbed in the air and hit the buffeting curtain. The blaze grew into an inferno with a strong gust of wind.
"Alas! It's the end, my end," old Kenny murmured, blinking away tears of hysteria. He flopped to the ground as the raging fire engulfed the house voraciously, reducing it to ashes and char. Slowly, he felt a chill invading into his bones, despite the immense heat. In the midst of the crackling and rumbling, images of his childhood days played in lightning speed on his mind.
Shrinking in size, he felt lighter, smaller and younger. He was a child, the child. The fire scene faded away and he moved into a realm in the past.
The gentle morning breeze blew. In the pond, the ducks quacked in merriment. Young Kenny was at the park, his favourite haunt, with his little brother, Timmy. The duo were there, seeking what else but plain fun, at the park. He showed absolute disinterest to the children at the see-saw and slide. To him, the playground is an ultimate bore. His notion of a playground and fun was completely different from a typical 9-year-old.
Armed with a catapult, Young Kenny sniffed for an adventure. He leisurely walked past Mr Tan, deeply buried in the papers. As he sauntered by the pond, his excitement escalated. He could sense an adventure brewing close.
"I could feel it coming," he turned around to face little Timmy who was busy licking his lollipop.
Reaching his hand into his pocket, he gripped his catapult. He smiled. It was there, ready to be put to use anytime. How could it be left out in a good adventure?
On the branch above Mr Tan sat a nest of hatchlings. "Twit twit," the nestlings went in hunger.
Young Kenny looked up. His lips curled into a mischievous grin.
"This is it! The adventure of the day is about to begin!" he said, unable to contain his excitement.
Pulling out the catapult from his pocket, he loaded a pebble, pulled the elastic band right to the maximum and took aim at the nest.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Young Kenny could not believe his good luck. He had more than one target awaiting him on the tree. Hanging on the same tree was a hive! Overwhelmed with exhilaration, he could not wait any longer. He thrilled at the idea of helpless hatchlings falling from their nest. He thrilled to a frenzy to see them unable to flap their wings to take flight for they were still far too weak. When the birds were falling, he would launch his second shot at the beehive. The provoked bees, would then buzz and charge at the birds. What a brilliant plan! How impeccable! He could not help but smirk.
Young Kenny got into position, eyes affixed at his target. He pulled the band hard, getting ready to release when he found himself swept into a maelstrom of confusion…
No longer light and small, his felt his body bigger but aged. The blaze was contained. Firefighters were at the scene. His house was gone with the wind, leaving behind piles of blackened rubble. Old Kenny finally understood how cruel his act at the park was.
Devastated as he was, who could he blame? The fun-seeking youngsters who had set his house ablaze? Sixty years ago, did he not do exactly the same to two homes? Did the nestlings and the bees blame him? Could he not believe in retribution now?
