Unlike most stories, I’m going to start this one at the end. After all, in some ways that’s where it does begin. This story involves all the ingredients of a good story, obsession, determination, revenge, and honor. It all started when I lost the bet. A simple bet, that I thought I couldn’t lose because I had won it every time before. The proof of my inability to always win will forever lie in the words of this story.

Since you already know I lost the bet, you’re probably wondering what it was. For this, I have to go back three years. We were at a Halloween party attended by a wizard, a pimp, and Frankenstein’s monster among other costumes. While I greatly enjoy Halloween, I chose a gothic look for the evening. In other words, my lack of creativity for costumes, I wore all black.

There was food, there was music, and there were games; darts, pool, and air hockey. I played them all that night, but it was the air hockey table that had the biggest impact. It was just the two of us. He was dressed as the monster of Frankenstein with nails protruding from a tire inner tube around his neck. The only other people in the room was a group of three hovering around the food and discussing religion, a topic that can be retired after this particular group discusses it for any length of time.

The game table was open, and the rest of the party was in the actual game room with the pool table, darts, and music. This left the air hockey table open. It was our first game, and the best part of it was that I won.

Claiming air hockey was a “game of honor,” he was determined to get revenge. It was a moral imperative that he beat me at this game of high-speed reflexes and luck. But such opportunities were far and few between. The first obstacle was that he was leaving for 6 months to play airman with the United States Air Force, an honorable quest, but one that did interfere with the great game of air hockey.

Not even the grueling training could make him forget his mission. Determination for revenge kept him going. He pushed forward each day waiting for the final days of boot camp and technical school, waiting for six demanding months to come to an end. He knew that when it was over he would, at last, have the opportunity to redeem his honor.