He glanced to his right and noticed a shaded spot on the field near the home team benches and a memory suddenly came back to him—a spring day back in Iraq. He and Mohammed, his arch enemy, facing each other, fists balled up, ready to fight. Mohinder was 2 years older than him, a big kid—he'd been held back a year. He dressed in a leather jacket that smelled of cigarettes and oil and he wore his anger the way some women wear too much costume jewellery. For no particular reason he'd taken an instant disliking to the quiet Mohinder. Mohammed had mercilessly tormented him all year until finally Mohinder had had enough and agreed to Mohammed’s taunt to fight after school.
The other boys circled him, Mohammed scared but defiant. Mohammed threw the first punch, but Mohinder blocked it but then the bully's left fist appeared from nowhere and struck Jim in the nose. There was blood. He went down on his knees and Mohammed jumped on him, thrashing away, Mohammed's thin arms powerless to protect him from the dazzling blows. He then stood and was about to deliver a brutal kick to Mohinder's ribs when a man's voice cut through the April air "Boys! That's enough." Coach George stepped forward, pulled Mohammed away and ordered him to the principal's office. Sneering, the boy stalked away.
The coach then helped Mohinder up and surveyed the damage to his face. Coach said, "First the nurse, but I'm afraid you're going to the principal too, Jim."
"Yes sir."
The grizzled, crew-cut man handed Jim a Kleenex for the blood, and the tears
Now back to this hot, hot first day of school, trudging through the dewy grass, Jim shifted his heavy bag to the other shoulder. Closer to the school now, he watched the students and teachers, the impatient parents in the school car park. It was the same but different at the same time. He nervously made his way to the reception. When he reached the desk of the receptionist he was greeted by a good looking 20 year old blonde, “Good morning, how may I help you?”
“I’m new and I was wondering if you could help me.” “Ah, you must be Mohinder. Glad to meet you I have your timetable and a map of the school right here” “Thank you very much.” She handed him the papers and he set off half looking at the map half looking at his timetable. He was heading toward a big boy much like Mohammed but this boy was different he had much fairer skin his hair was red and he was much bigger. Mohinder wasn’t paying attention and before he knew it he had bumped into this big boy. Mohinder was quick to apologize but the boy had spilt some water all over himself and his already red face was getting redder. “Déjà vu all over again” thought Mohinder. The boy drew his arm back and all of a sudden Mohinder was down on his knees. Already a circle had formed around the two boys and the familiar chants of “Fight! Fight! Fight!” could be heard. The boy’s fist drew back again Mohinder closed his eyes but the punch didn’t come.
