A Dance with Football: An Adabian Story (CLOSED)

[Adab]

Chapter 75: The Boy Distant as the Sky

“I never quite realized that it would all turn out like this,” Samir Sinmuballit’s voice was as clear and ringing as Alu’s room was dark. There was no hint of disapproval, no sign of enthusiasm or joy either. Just a sober, neutral voice delivering what he said in a matter-of-fact manner. And on the other side, the listener was also in no mood for enthusiasm, either from himself or from his father’s end.

“It is what it is,” Alu said in a manner somehow even flatter than his father’s. “Everything that I’ve done, all of my decisions, it all has led to this.”

“You know I don’t want to pressure you into making any kind of decision,” Samir added. “And you know what your mother and I think of all this, but, well, you’re an adult now, and… even if we try to do anything I know you wouldn’t let us.” He allowed himself a quiet, almost suppressed chuckle. Not that it helped lighten the mood in any way.

“You don’t have to worry about all this, Dad. All the attention is on me. It’s all about what Alulim Sinmuballit has done. Nothing to do with his parents whatsoever. I make my own decisions.”

“I know,” the elder Sinmuballit acknowledged. “I just worry about you. Your mother too. No matter what, I would rather be the suffering one than my son. It… it just worries to see everything that’s going on.”

“I worry about everyone,” Alu stated, giving a nod that his father couldn’t see on the other end of the connection. “Which is why – and I don’t think I’ve told you before – I have made my decision. There isn’t a way back for me and Emma.”

And then silence. For a minute that felt like it lengthened to an hour, the world came to a standstill. No noise, no nothing, but two men reduced to silence.

“Well that… if I understand it correctly…”

“I’ve got to break it off with her. For the sake of everyone. If that is what must be done to save this whole city from burning, then I will do it. I’ve just to go find her, wherever she is right now, and tell that to her face, for the sake of courtesy.”

“I’ll have to be honest with you,” Samir replied, “I think this nation’s problems go way beyond you and her.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I won’t do anything to intervene here, because I know it won’t matter anyway, but I hope you are not feeling pressured, at least from my end,” his father continued. “If you feel-“

“Oh, no, no,” Alu cut his father off. “I don’t- I don’t feel pressured by you, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I am doing this for you, for our family, for… everyone else, really, in this country.”

“I fear that even that won’t stop this country from… going down whatever path it’s now going down on.”

“I know, but if this can help address the problem, even if just a little,” Alu replied. “Come on, I know you won’t be holding me back, right? Because… well, yeah…”

There was no immediate response from his father. For all his leniency and tolerance, both sides knew there was never any doubt as to Samir and her wife’s opinion on this matter, and the concerns that they had – and had been having for a long time.

“You’re always one of a kind, you know that,” Samir said. “Even when you were still a kid, people said there’s… something in you that will lead you to greatness, to become a great man and all that.”

“But the cost is that I will have to stand alone, and stand alone often. And today, not even she can be on my side,” Alu continued. “One of a kind, unique… so different from others.”

In a low voice, after a halt, he added, “So distant.”

[Adab]

Chapter 76: The Way It Is

November 13, 2036
Saad Kaykali’s house
Adab City

He sat alone there at the dining table, no one else with him, the chandelier illuminating what a few minutes earlier had been a dark, silent room. His eyes were vacant and emotionless, casting an empty view at the expanse in front of him, all the way to the door at the end of the room. The housekeepers Walid and Nehemiah had to be asleep themselves, Saad figured. Not a surprise at this late hour.

His fingers clicked absentmindedly on the table, nothing but memories to accompany him. He had set his phone on the mahogany surface, not very close, but still close enough for him to reach over and change the song he wanted to play. The last half-minute or so he had spent scrolling through the list of online songs at his disposal, a far cry from his long-gone youth when he had to set up a whole CD player or listen to whatever they were playing on the radio.

For years a leader, a manager, now he was about to be stripped of his post, deprived of his office – or so he sensed. No matter – it would only make official what had been true in practice for some time now. There was no one left to lead, no one to coach, because the current of events had swept everyone away and changed the trajectory of the national team. Depending on how things played out, not only would Saad no longer be manager, his players might no longer even be players themselves at the end of the day.

Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Retirement wouldn’t be so bad, Saad concluded, though it’s a shame he couldn’t end his career on better terms.

Ooh, heaven is a place on Earth. He looked at the singer’s name on the phone. Belinda Carlisle, right. Memories of 1987 and all that, when he was just a kid, playing football in the academy and on the streets. So long ago.

They say in heaven- And then he heard a gentle knock-knock as the door inched upon. He sprang to his feet at this unanticipated event, pausing the song as Nehemiah’s head appeared behind the half-opened door. “Mr. Kaykali? Ah, sir, there is Mr. Abbas outside. He just came. Should I let him inside?”

“Mr. Abbas? Rashid?” What is going on here? To say that he had a good feeling about this would be a lie. “Yeah, of course, tell him to come inside.” Instinctively he raised his hand to tidy his hair; if this was going to be about something important, he better appear as good as possible at this hour.

---

“When I saw that plane on the screen, I know things had… changed irrevocably,” Rashid reflected, head slightly bowed, clicking his fingers on the table in much the same absentminded way as Saad earlier. The older man could sense the worry in Rashid’s eyes, and in his darkened face. “There is no going back from this.”

“No,” Saad simply agreed.

Rashid’s lips were shut as he moved his jaw side to side. His head suddenly jerked up bringing himself face-to-face with Saad. “Do you have tea, Mr. Kaykali?”

“Of course, sure,” Saad pushed himself backwards on his chair and started to rise. “I’ll get Nehe-“

“Wait, wait, no, no, it’s fine,” Rashid raised his hand to cancel the request, signaling for Saad to return to his seat. Rashid’s eyes were as open as they were since he arrived here, penetrating directly into Saad’s. “Mr. Kaykali, I will tell you this: I am on the players’ side. I do not intend to actually work for that bastard Araqasdah-“

“But you accepted his offer.”

“I need to keep myself close to him. The players are fighting from the outside; I will be fighting from the inside – and no, let me speak for now, sir,” he raised his hand again as soon as Kaykali started to open his mouth. Now he leaned across the table, closer to Saad. His eyes, Saad noticed, were now more tender. Begging, even.

“And I need you, Mr. Kaykali. We need you.”

At that moment he knew; this was what the meeting was about. “Rashid, I just- I just don’t know. I feel like I’ve-“

“With all due respect, Mr. Kaykali, this is not the time to rise above the fray. And if I may say so, I believe I know you at least a little bit, sir. I know you to be a great, decent man, respected by everyone and rightly so. And I know that you hate Araqasdah, and I hate Araqasdah too. We are all on the same side. Everyone looks to up. We all need you, Mr. Kaykali.”

“To be what?” Saad countered, finding a sudden fire in him. “You will be the manager. The players will not accept Araqasdah’s demands. He will fire them no matter what, replace them with new players. The city will riot, will burn, and no matter what happens or who wins there is no place for me. I am finished, Rashid. I am old news-“

“That is not true!” Rashid raised his voice, not out of anger, but pleading. “Araqasdah and the Imperial Palace severely underestimate his and the AFA’s unpopularity. No one who actually loves football in this country will take his side. And in the end this is no longer just about football, or about Arthur and Sinmuballit. Tabira has turned this into a… class war, political struggle, whatever it is!” He leaned even closer to Saad, the tip of his nose almost brushing his. “This is a struggle of justice against injustice, right against wrong. I’m just one person, but I think I’m agreeing with a large portion of this godforsaken country when I say Mr. Kaykali, please, you must be with us. You must lead us. When all this is over, you will be our manager, my manager. The way things have always been.”

No words came from Saad’s hardened face, and Rashid had run out of words. The younger man withdrew to his seat, leaving Saad to lean back on his own chair, each man motionless for a while, until Saad finally found his words again. “If you are sure Araqasdah is bound to fail, then why did you agree to be the manager?”

Rashid gave him a little nod, then glanced back briefly at the door to make sure it was closed. “That,” he turned again to face Saad, “is what I’ve come here to tell you.”

[Adab]

Chapter 77: Blackmail

Saad Kaykali’s house
Adab City

“This is blackmail, you know that?” The light had gone out of Saad Kaykali’s face as he realized the gravity of the situation at hand. Not just what was happening on the streets, but also what his own former assistant manager – now elevated to manager – was embarking on. “I…” he spontaneously rose from his seat, for no reason other than he felt compelled to. He dragged his hand down the right side of his face, sighing. “Geopolitics, blackmail… all this has spiraled out of control. You know I’m not good at this stuff, right? All I know is football. Well, business too, but mostly football.”

“And yet, Mr. Kaykali, you know in your heart this is the right thing to do,” Rashid Abbas asserted – and Saad made no effort to deny. “Araqasdah is a rot in our sport, a black spot in this country. The nation is rising up against him and ilk – and rightfully so. History will judge us – you – harshly if you choose the wrong side, and you know very well that I’m telling the truth.”

And you are. “I’ll be honest with you, Rashid… I feel too old and out of my depth here. Maybe… it’ll better for everyone if you’d just stay on as manager. We need new blood-“

“Nonsense, Mr. Kaykali, you are the manager. I am only here for the show,” Rashid insisted. “When that old fossil has been removed, we will make sure you return to your rightful place. I’m more than happy to be your assistant. As you can see, I’ve already had enough trouble to deal with in this life, as it is.”

Silence, as Kaykali cleared his throat. “But what if I do not want to go along with-“

“You will want to,” Rashid’s voice turned dark for a moment, then softened. “In the name of Allah, Mr. Kaykali, I beg you, come to your senses. I come here on a mission from the Prince of Faraby. This is bigger than you and me, that’s the point. Everyone, everyone in this whole goddamned country has a stake in this.”

“Well, I-“

“And, once again, I am on a mission from the Prince of Faraby. I am here to make sure the mission is completed, so let us not make things any more difficult.”

“…And what is that supposed to mean?”

“My master,” Rashid said, “may not be very charitable to those who stand in his way. As it happens, his interests align with the people’s. But, Mr. Kaykali, I beg you, I’m sure you know what is right and what must be done.”

[Adab]

Chapter 78: The Revolt

November 13, 2036
Saad Kaykali’s house
Adab City

“You are mad,” Saad shook his head and sank on his chair. “You are fucking mad. This whole thing is goddamn mad.”

“It is,” Rashid conceded, sighing and putting his own head on his hands, glued to the lonely dining table. “But you know there is no other way.”

“Do you realize what we are getting into?” Saad demanded.

“I do,” Rashid declared, “and I’m sure you do too, Mr. Kaykali. There is no turning back. We are way past the point of turning back. And I know you see the truth of what I’ve just said – because you didn’t say you disagree with this.”

---

November 14, 2036
The streets of Adab City

“I stand here now before you,” the powerful, sonorous voice of Amarutu Tabira echoed past the broken concrete, the burned-out buildings and the rising columns of smoke, “not to advocate for the cause of a single person, or a few, but for the cause of the PEOPLE OF ADAB!” The last three words he punctuated by slamming his shoe on the makeshift platform to the wild, raucous cheers of the crowd.

Under the dark black sky they had gathered – men, women, and children of various colors, creeds, and shapes – united in their mind by the belief that they had been wronged by generation after generation of Adabian government. The actions of two, an unlucky couple, had set things in motion, spreading the fire until it lit souls in all parts of society.

“It is not our wish to defile this holy month of Ramadan, the last ten days of Ramadan,” Tabira continued, raising his fist as his voice escalated, before then turning to point at the general direction of the Imperial Palace, “but it is the desire – and the ignorance – of THOSE in that mighty gilded cage, that grandiose monstrosity, who have been shut off for FAR TOO LONG from the ordinary people! The rights of two were denied, then – unsatisfied by this injustice – they continued by persecuting those who support them! They stood up, and they were REMOVED from their positions!

Leaning to the microphone for dramatic effect, his arm still extending behind him towards the Palace, Tabira announced, “I, of course, am talking about the pride and joy of our nation: the Adab national football team. Alulim Sinmuballit and Emma Arthur fought for their love, and their friends stood up for them, and now the rotten government – and their rotten football association – have removed them all! Effectively declared them persona non grata, unwelcome, a disgrace, despite everything they have done for US!”

“Tell them, Ama, tell THEM!” a voice demanded from the crowd to yet another round of cheers, drowning every other noise from this end of the boulevard to the other.

“I will, I WILL!” Tabira declared. “In fact, I have been telling them for so long, and you, the people, have been saying the same for so long! Yet our pleas have fallen on deaf ears! We are ignored, marginalized, dismissed! And now they will enact policies which will destroy freedom and equality as we have known it! Will you allow this to stand?!”

“NO!” the crowd affirmed.

“Will you allow this to stand?”

“NO!”

“WILL YOU ALLOW THIS TO STAND?!”

“NO!”

“As you should. AS WE SHOULD!” Tabira raised his arm again, now accompanied by the rapid banging of fists on the lectern. “I now present to you, EMMA ARTHUR AND ALULIM SINMUBALLIT! The heroes of this century!”

A few feet behind the podium the rebellious members of the national team had been seated. Now Emma Arthur and Alulim Sinmuballit uneasily rose to their feet, clearly unaccustomed to addressing a political – almost revolutionary – gathering. Taymour Frangieh, Shania Enmerkar, and Enlilbani Yargab led the other members of the team in a round of applause for the couple as Emma and Alu stepped onto the podium. Tabira stepped aside, allowing Emma to assume her place before the lectern. By mutual agreement between her and Alu, she would be the one to speak.

She tried to hide it, but her fingers were trembling and she was beginning to sweat. No one thought the situation would spiral until it reached this point where she would be delivering a speech to a mass gathering. My struggle has become everyone’s. How did we come to this point?

“I am not one for this… sort of thing, I have to say,” Emma began. “After all, I’m just a football player. I also do some modelling and appear on magazine covers sometimes, I suppose. Otherwise I’m not that very remarkable. I like to think I’m confident, but not so confident so as to talk before literally thousands here.

“But you are fighting for me and Alu, and for us all in this country, and I want you to know how much we appreciate it. Nothing that Alu and I have gone through can ever compare to your suffering – and we want you to know that we are with you.”

Emma’s speech was not particularly noteworthy; for everyone there it was enough that she and Alu be on the podium – the faces of the rebellion. The nominal, if not the actual, leaders. The moving force behind all this. After she had concluded her remarks, Tabira returned to the podium to conclude his own speech.

“I demand nothing but a free, equal, and democratic Adab, where no one is lower than their fellow citizen, where people can love and marry whoever they want to marry regardless of color and creed, where no one is discriminated against, where the Adabian dream is achievable and not just a pipe dream!

“I live for a free, equal and democratic Adab, and I shall die for it if I have to.

“Down with the government!

“Down with the oppressors!

“Down with the monarchy!”

[Adab]

Chapter 79: With the Times

Imperial Palace
Adab City

“I do not know, I do not know,” the Emperor sighed, the unkempt white hair and lines on his face betraying his otherwise imposing frame. Hunched over in his seat, all his nine decades came into the forefront – and he suddenly looked much less than the man whose presence had graced the imperial throne, sittings of the Privy Council, and the minds of millions of his citizens over the last decade.

His eyes shot upwards – towards that small window which opened to the dark sky. “My father, his father before him, my grandfathers before me ruled over a great nation,” he lamented in a drawl. “I… will not be the one to watch it all go up in flames, or so I hope.”

“You will not, sir,” assured Belu Adamu, Private Secretary to the Emperor, standing solemnly across the desk from his master. “The situation is very much under control.” Unable to hold his gaze at the Emperor – still imposing, even when a hunched-over man, worn down by age and the storms of government – he found his gaze involuntarily dancing down towards the desk, as if he himself was unsure of what he was about to say. “The police has everything under control. They will not resort to force as long as Tabira remains peaceful, and so far he has remained peaceful. I have been assured that projectiles will not be used, only tear gas and such, and that would be only if things spiral completely out of control.”

“I do not want bloodshed,” the Emperor’s voice settled in a guttural, growling tone. Belu and the third man in the room found themselves perking up their ears to hear the great man’s words. “Order and authority will be restored, but I do not want bloodshed.”

“And bloodshed will not come, Your Majesty,” announced the third man in the room. From a far corner echoed the voice of Bashar Nawwaf, Lord President of the Privy Council. He stepped forward tentatively, edging closer to the Emperor. “For all our disagreements, the Privy Council and – I think I can speak on behalf of them – the Adabian people want peace above all. Let Tabira do his thing and we’ll just wait for the storm to pass.”

“If you call this thing a storm, then this is one outrageous storm,” the Emperor retorted, tilting his head upwards through ragged breaths. “These people – his people – want this entire institution abolished. They want to do away with the monarchy, with this entire government. When we are gone he will be standing on the ashes, declaring himself the new king or emperor or whatever the hell he wants to call himself.”

“The people will not-“

“You can continue to babble on about the people or whatever,” the Emperor cut Bashar off. “The fact is that the people are out there on the streets, on the streets of our cities, marching against us, demanding the abolition of this thing and probably wanting me out of the country. I do not know, I know I am not quite with the times, but what will be my- our replacement? This institution has worked well for centuries. Why should we change it?”

“We shouldn’t,” Belu said. “The people will realize it.”

“And I want the most important people in all this to realize it – which is why I intend to call Tabira, Kaykali, those Sinmuballit and Arthur people, and whoever else has a stake in this. And you," he turned to Bashar, "are the Lord President – get your council under control.”