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CHAPTER 1 : The Exile
Part 1 : A Fine Evening In Jerusalem
I sighed, adjusting my position. I was sat on the cold hard ground outside of a Jerusalem corner shop. I had been lurking in the very same spot for around a week, as, seven days ago, I was evicted from my flat. I guess that's what you get if you don't pay your rent. But what was I meant to pay it with? I had a desolate CV, how was I meant to earn money?
I wore ragged clothes and fingerless gloves. I looked like one of the men I had, in the past, felt pity for. I now understood the gravity of my situation. I was a stranger in a strange land with nobody to rely on. My life, in the past two months, had literally spun around on it's head.
I had been living in a small town in New Zealand, the same town I had grown up in- the town where my parents lived. There, I was working on my father's farm, the family business. I didn't want to be a farmer, but of course my family already had planned out my life for me, so naturally I was the bad one for leaving one day, out of the blue, to go on a trial for a pro football club.
My father didn't take my rapid departure too well- in fact, he kicked me out
completely- and this was after I
failed the trial. With a rucksack around my shoulder and a budget I could probably live on for about three months, I left behind my home, along with it, my dreams of playing football professionally.
I thought it was about time I got a decent job, so I called an old friend of mine who was living in Jerusalem, he said he could get me a great job in his company, so I flew over, but, in true Anaru Kareko fashion... things didn't work out. My friend called me back the next day and told me he couldn't get the job.
So there I was, alone, in Jerusalem- a country that spoke a language I knew about three words of. I didn't see any point in flying back to New Zealand. There was nothing for me there. Quickly, I rented out a flat in Jerusalem and set my eyes on job hunting, but then, I realized: who wants to hire a guy that can't understand a word they say?
Day by day, the job hunting got a bit less serious until I started spending my waking hours in the local pub. That's where I was headed now. Up the steps in to the grubby old building. "The usual," I nodded, speaking in my terribly accented Hebrew and reaching in to my pocket. I grimaced. It seemed I only had enough for one more drink, and then I'd be totally skint.
The barkeep placed down the drink and I nodded, handing him my change and downing the drink as quick as possible, before placing my face down against the counter miserably. What was I going to do? This situation had
no positives.
"GOOOOOOOLLL!!! GOOOOLLL!! GOLLL!!!" a sudden noise rang out. The television in the corner was showing a football match between two Israeli teams.
"GOAALLLLLLL!!!" The commentator cheered as the cameraman zoomed in on one of the team's manager, who raised his fist in jubilance.
"That's it..." I nodded to myself.
"Huh?" the barkeep said. "Did you say something, friend?"
"I am going to become a football manager..."
