Janvier Soldat And The Hardgainer's Curse

Janvier has always been dagger-eyed by some people because they take a look at his waistline and turn green. While it happens to be his favourite colour, Janvier doesn't think green on the face would be healthy - especially for him when others may do more than just shoot daggers with their eyes.

Certainly he does appreciate the fact that he doesn't need to buy new clothing because he doesn't come across the feeling that his clothes are getting tighter. Although he would also admit that in the past he'd never really had a penchant for clothes shopping so most of what he has are M or free size tees, and comfortable cargoes and jeans.

So he's been told that he's blessed, especially sometimes when they see him eat. What they don't realize is that, Janvier was cursed e'er since he was young.

See, in the early formative years Janvier was walking one day through the lalang (weed) field beside his house to get to the main road, he came across what looked like a bundle of clothes on the small path. As he walked past it, the bundle groaned like an old man, and Janvier jumped. The lalang was as tall as Janvier, at some parts even taller than him (of course, Janvier was still a wee thing then and was still growing up) and anyone could possibly hide undetected in the lalang.

Janvier too a quick look around him, didn't see anyone, and was about to head on when he heard the sound of an old man clearing his throat. Janvier decided that it was probably the wind carrying the sound of some old man, when he heard someone call out, "Boy, help me boy."

Understand, that this was in the early 1990s, when Janvier was still in school being bombarded by Pendidikan Moral and sex offenders weren't too much of a commonplace threat.

Janvier wondered whether the voice was referring to him, but he didn't call out in reply. That would have been like something out of an Enid Blyton book, and somehow Janvier would have felt like an idiot calling out, "Yes, who's there?"

Thinking that the voice likely originated from out of the lalang patch, Janvier turned and was about to walk on when the voice called out again, "Boy, stop! Help me, please! I'm down here!" and the bundle of clothes started shuffling towards him.

Sex offenders may not have been a commonplace threat at that time but snakes in a lalang field definitely were.

Janvier was out of the lalang field in seconds, and he could still hear the voice going moaning sadly.

"Boy, please help me find my badminton racquet...I need my badminton racquet."

Probably his lack of imagination meant that Janvier never thought of the possibility of a ghost. But the voice pleaded so pathetically that Janvier hesitated, and in that instant he saw the handle of a badminton racquet sticking out between blades of lalang. He reached out for the handle and pulled out a badminton racquet - an old wooden badminton racquet, made all the more heavier because it was still in a badminton frame (a wooden square frame clamped about the paddly end of the racquet protecting the racquet).

Armed with the racquet, he walked back into the lalang and reached the bundle of clothes. Not knowing why he did it, Janvier tossed the racquet onto the bundle.

"Thank you, boy! You've found my racquet!"

Janvier refrained from saying how that sounded like a cliched textbook reply, and merely shrugged and said, "Er, no problem," to the bundle of clothes when a tall white stranger dressed in tennis togs walked out from another part of the lalang and picked up the racquet.

"As a reward for finding my racquet, I will grant you a special gift, boy," said the stranger who turns out to be the owner of the voice.

"Er, who are you?" Janvier asks while biting back from adding, "And why do you speak like from some fairytale script?"

"My name is Marre," the stranger says and smiles brightly, showing rows of pearly white that would have put the Darlie face to shame. "Mussel Marre," he quickly added when he saw Janvier's face with an eyebrow raised up in a look of utter skepticism.

"Sounds like a girl's name."

"No it isn't."

"But it does."

"Look, do you want a reward or not?"

"Um, what is it? If it's big and heavy I won't be able to carry it."

"I will give you the power to get ripped, have perfect pecs and chiselled rock-hard 6-pack abs with the least amount of exercise!"

"Er, what are those?"

"It means that if you do regular exercise, you will get all that."

"Errr...exercise ah?" There was an uncertain look on Janvier's face. "This thing you're offering doesn't really sound fun too..."

"You utterly lazy thing! Fine! That you refuse this gift, we'll give you something then! Take the Hardgainer's Way Of Life! May what you eat burn off as you metabolise even faster!"

The stranger than bashes Janvier's head with the racquet, but by dint of good luck only the strings hit him and so the racquet bounced off.

When the stars finally cleared, all Janvier could see was a pile of clothes. Wondering what he was doing standing in the middle of the lalang patch when anytime a snake might just slither out, he quickly headed out and went for lunch, all thoughts about the incident forgotten.