Faola Le Aso
Nov 20, 2019 13:23:49 GMT -6
Ruthless Aggression, Dominic Sanders, and 1 more like this
Post by Deleted on Nov 20, 2019 13:23:49 GMT -6
Faola Le Aso
(The Birth of a Warrior: Prelude)
Winds blow across the tarmac as the bass like roar of an airliner breezes by, leaving behind a small congregation of passengers, all dressed in military clothing in its wake. Families rush past security, children with open arms held out before them. For most, this is a welcoming of sorts. Love has found a way home once more for the veterans who have returned home after a lengthy stay in enemy territory.
Dressed in camouflage cargo pants and matching buttoned-up coat, a tall figure emerges from the crowd. Carrying a oversized duffle bag, he looks out before him from under dark sunglasses as a smile spreads across his face. The source of his happiness beams back at him, a female in her mid 70’s. Holding her hand is a small child. Arriving before her, the man stops just short of them and offers a soft smile. “Grandma. I am home.”
“Yes, Dear.” She replies with a wrinkled grin. “I see that. You look so handsome with your tough guy clothing on. Do you have any other bags?”
“Nope. “ Laughs the man now. “My entire life fits inside this bag. Pathetic, huh?”
“I am sure that you will fill up many more bags now that you are home. Come, Brett. Let’s get going. Your entire family is waiting for you back at the house.”
The man, now known as Brett, stops his Grandmother before she can walk away. He embraces her tightly. “Grandma, I am sorry about Grandpa. I tried to be there.”
“I know, sweetie. It’s okay. No sad talk… this is a happy day! You are finally home. We have big plans for you! Lets not waste time in this obnoxious place.”
Glancing at the little girl, Brett winks “Okay, let's go. It’s good to be home.”
The three of them walk towards an open parking lot as another aircraft soars off into the distance. Above them, a sign reads “San Francisco International Airport.”
San Jose, CA
1.5 hours later.
“SURPRISE!!!”
Laughing, Brett drops his bag as family rushes him! Doing his best to act surprised, he nods and allows his facial tone to shift to a degree of pink. In the distance, traditional Samoan Music is played on the stereo. Walking further into the home, Brett can hardly contain him as he spots a large buffet table. The menu is balanced, offering a mixture of seafood to classic American. Grabbing a plate, he quickly shovels food into his mouth. “Yes… I missed this. You can’t find this stuff in Afghanistan.”
“No… and you can’t find your brother there either!”
“MOA?!!” Turning quickly, Brett lets out a howl as he embraces his brother! Best friends since the two were able to first speak; this was a long-overdue reunion. Doing his best to stay upright on his walking supports, Moa places a hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “You got bigger. You look like a muscle man now instead of a wimp.”
“Muscle man…” Laughs Brett as he repeats the comment. “You gained some muscle too! It looks like you are almost ready to ditch those crutches just like you did the wheelchair!”
“Brother, as much as I would love that, we both know that will never happen.” Continues Moa in pride. Once a star athlete, Moa was paralyzed a decade prior in a car accident. His resolve and natural strength allowed him to overcome the disability and gain some movement back. The inner war continued to this day. “Brett, there are some things for you upstairs when you got time. Ask Grandma about them.”
“I will… after I finish stuffing my face.”
Turning to look around the room, Moa gains the attention of the entire family. Surrounding the two of them, a strong Samoan family comes together, holding hands and embracing each other’s shoulders. Once gaining their attention, Moa speaks in a loud tone. “FAMILY…. MY BROTHER IS HOME! HOME FROM WAR… HOME. WE ARE COMPLETE AND STRONG ONCE MORE!!”
All at once, the family howls and roars. Nodding Moa smiles and slowly walks back into the depths of the room, lost in the crowd. After a few more bites of food, Brett wipes his face and heads upstairs to his bedroom. In the middle of the room is a stack of boxes. He approaches them, taking a deep breath. He truly was home. No more sand. No more drills. Just love.
“Your trophies are in there. Grandpa kept them all. He was so proud of you.”
Hearing the voice of his sister, Brett smiles. “I wish I was able to say goodbye.”
“He knew why you weren’t there, U’u. He bragged so much that his little bear was defending his country. No one could say a negative thing about you or he would defend you. Well, no one but me anyway… I was his favorite after all.”
Laughing, Brett hugs his sister. Opening a box, he begins to remove various gold trophies. One, in particular, catches his eye. Reaching in, he removes a large trophy depicting two men locked in some sort of submission hold. “This… this isn’t mine.” Wiping his finger across the base, a nameplate reads “Afa Bosa”.
“That one was Grandpa’s. He left it for you.”
“Me?” Replies Brett. “Makes no sense. Grandma should have this. I didn’t know that he wrestled at one time.”
“Oh yes.” Continues his Sister as she stands by his side. “He was amazing according to Grandma. That’s how they met. She was a fan. He met her at a show. It’s a great story. You should ask her about it.”
“Maybe... maybe I will.” Replies Brett in a monotone voice.
“It is good to have you home, U’u. I have missed your face. The family needs a new leader. It's your role now as oldest.”
“…yes. I know and I will do my best.”
“I know you will. I am going to head downstairs now. Don’t be too long. Moa bought you a cake, well I think it’s a cake, and it should be funny.”
The two embrace once more. Now alone, Brett glances back at his grandfather’s statue. Aged metal rolls in his hand, as he remains silent. Wrestling. His Grandfather was a wrestler? How did he not know this? How much more did he not know? He would have to seek out his Grandmother later and learn more. For now… there was cake.
The Final Word.
Family. It’s important to me. Always has been. A family doesn’t just have to be blood either. Friends can be brothers and sisters, role models can be parents, it’s about how you look at things. What matters most is respect, love.. And tradition. I have been gone for a long time. When I left, it was to find some sort of direction in my life. I was a shit disturber, a rebel, but that is a story for another time. What I will say right now however is that this is the start of a story of how a boy finally became a man. One never knows his true path until it reveals itself to him. We can plan out our future but often... The future has other plans for us.
My name is Brett Bosa. Make no mistake about it, I am not here to tell you all that I am the next big thing or some sort of future Hall of Famer with a destiny that will be spoken about for years to come. What I am, is a man who will do what it takes to care for his family and uphold their traditions. Wrestling is in my family’s blood.
Soon… it will be in mine too.
My Grandfather used to say “Faola Le Aso.” That means, “Seize the Day” in Samoan.
That day is coming soon.