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Sondo was the best?
Tears of frustration leapt into Falco's eyes before he could stop them. He averted his face from the group. He would not let them see those tears. He would never let them see those tears.
Sondo was the best. It was always the same. Everything they did back home revolved around that fact. Sondo was the best. He should be our leader. Was Falco never right? He strived so hard to do something worthy of admiration. He wanted to be a leader like Sondo was. But whenever he came up with something, even if it was a good idea, it was considered a bad, bad idea if it opposed what Sondo wanted. Because Sondo was the best.
They always said Sondo was the best! What about the time they had been sailing their wooden boats in the river? They had worked so hard to make those little boats, and then Sondo had wanted to sail them in the rougher part of the river where there were more rapids. It would be more exciting, he had said. Falco had adored that little boat he owned. His older brother had helped him make it. He had tried to protest that the rapids might harm the boats, but the boys had all turned against him. Sondo was their leader, they said. He knew what he was doing. He was always right. He was the best. We'll do what he says. And the boats had been pounded on the rocks. Falco's had been battered and beaten until at last it disappeared into the wild tumult of water.
All because Sondo was the best.
They never listened to him. They never would. He would have to follow all his life, whether the plan be good or bad. He could never lead. He could never win admiration from the boys. Sondo was the best. Sondo was the best. Sondo was always the best.
Falco whirled to the group, brushing at his eyes and struggling to keep his voice even and free of breaking. "I'm leaving now," he said. "If anyone is coming with me, come along now. If you're not... go home with Sondo."
After all, Falco added bitterly to himself, Sondo was the best.
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