INSPIRATIONAL
The Jaguar and his twinkly gloves
A Short Amusing Anthology
My neighbour Joáo is a taekwondo junkie. He had lost a handful of consecutive fights months before winning the most recent sparring tournament against Tennessee, his regular Mr Miyagi-meets-Rocky, black belt national champion opponent. This time, even I thought Tennessee looked rather tired. I pondered privately at his lack of vigour at the arena, brushing Evie’s hair absent-mindedly listening to her ramble on enthusiastically about her loss, while I scanned the crowd for Joáo. I spotted Joáo in the corner doing squats to warm up, rubbing his white gloves together spiritedly. I imagine he must be keeping them heated for his lethal next punch.
“Go, go, goooo….”, Evie screams at the man the children call The Jaguar. Joáo did not hesitate to give Tennessee a mid-riff jab under the ribcage as the whistle blew in our ears.
“Yes!!!” Archie, Joáo’s 12-year-old, and my Evie did their jumps of joy together holding hands and cheering for Joáo’s win.
I smile as my eyes watch Tennessee slump his shoulders and held defeat in his despondent knees. He shook hands bravely and fell to the ground, staring dejectedly into the distance while appearing to catch his breath to let the loss sink in. Beads of sweat dripped from the sides of his forehead as a reminder of Time — of age — like an hourglass of clear trickling sand.
Joáo’s deep resonant voice startled me, “Thank you for coming to support me!”
I turned to take in the closeness of his warm presence brushing my right shoulder as I found myself gazing into his warm, sparkling brown eyes.
Joáo’s booming narrative on his latest win sent all the children shrieking in excitement. The best bit, according to Evie, was the flash of twinkle in his gloves while lashing out that deadly mid-riff jab to the ribcage for the win in one swift move. I smile at the thought of his lukewarm beseeching eyes, as Evie rattled on about the way in which his white gloves had, for the lack of a better word, twinkled.
“Did this twinkle somehow blind Tennessee?” I inquired.
“Of course, Mum! Didn’t you see it was like this … “ as she crossed and uncrossed her arms in Shang-Chi fashion, dancing on her toes. The other children had already formed a version of Joáo’s move they now call, twinkle gloves.
I laugh and made a mental note to commend him on the twinkling of his gloves the next time Joáo dares to surprise me with one of his spinning back kicks to the jaw.
“Hello there! Good morning!” He boomed from behind me. Startled I turned sharply. My elbow connected squarely with his jaw as I tossed the bin bag over. Oops, what have I done? “Not a problem at all…” He squared up and brushed the specks of dust off his shoulders contemptuously as if… he would concede defeat…
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” I quickly apologised — stepping back and falling directly into his outstretched arms.
“Ahem.” Joáo coughed awkwardly.
“I want to thank you for your support that day…” he trails off as I pushed myself off, still smiling.
“Yes, indeed! Evie has been going on and on about your twinkly gloves, the kids are really digging it now! Good on keeping them so sparkly white! What’s your secret?”
Joáo blushed and appeared somewhat embarrassed.
“Is that what they call it now, eh… ha!” he nods and offered a gruff laugh. I swear I thought his brown eyes twinkled.
Melting behind the kitchen counter, I am holding on to my cup of coffee while watching Joáo spin both Evie and Jack with both of his arms on the driveway at dusk. A soft tune is playing. Out of nowhere staring into bliss, his twinkling eyes meet mine; my heart skips several beats. I hold myself steady as an inner glow radiates across the rim of my coffee mug.
I wave and sit down beaming a radiant smile.
To be sure, we could all do with some twinkling in our every day be it, a brief sparkle caught in a smile, a quick shine on the dishes, the magic of a single hug and snuggly warmth on colder days. Each time Joáo demonstrates his twinkly gloves move once more for the enthusiastic children, I could not help but smell the excitement sizzling in the air. There it is — a twinkling gleam in every child’s eye — seized with awe and admiration for something so simple, he has made this moment magical.
Dawn
The morning after coffee.
I sit to write, write to
feel, feel for a word —
reach for a pulse,
steady for a rouse,
as
a slow dawn unpeels me
gently from this
warm chair.
