"I heard you played a decent game yesterday," Señor Garcia broke the silence. His head down, focused on some novella.
Jordi looked up from his brand new copy of El juego del ángel. He stared at Señor Garcia as if looking for some hint. Finding none, Jordi looked back down and said, "It was ok. I scored the winning goal."
"Heh, that idiot uncle of yours has been strutting around the neighborhood boasting about his nephew. If I didn't know him any better, I would think you were the reincarnation of Maradona or someone."
Little Jordi, without looking up, just shrugged. This was how Señor Garcia was, and that was how Uncle Ferran was. Both slightly weird in their own ways.
A comfortable silence returned, the third companion to this mismatched duo of an old, grumpy man and a small, sensible boy.
"What do you want to do, Jordi?" Señor Garcia closed his book and looked up at Jordi.
Jordi was, once again, unsure of why Señor Garcia was talking so much today. "What do you mean?"
"You want to run your mother's bakery? You could also grow up and run my bookstore, you know. Sit here and read all day. That sounds good, no?"
Jordi's thoughts went in the direction of Señor Garcia's words. He did not want to run the bakery. His mother and uncle could do that. Running this bookshop, however, sounded like a dream. He could spend every day surrounded by so many stories.
Just as Jordi found comfort in his fantasies, Señor Garcia witnessed him sit up straight as if a current passed through him. His eyes, hazy in thought a moment before, lit up with a sharp and blinding light. Señor Garcia sighed and sat back, awaiting Jordi's response to confirm his fear.
"NO! No, Señor. I want to play football! No, not just football… I will play for Barca at the Camp Nou. I will play with Leo Messi!" Jordi jumped up and passionately stated. His small shoulders were tense, but his face wore the widest smile ever. A smile only possible after meeting and recognizing one's fate.
Señor Garcia chuckled and shook his head. Melancholy set deep in his eyes, hiding a secret that awaited Jordi one day. A secret as inevitable as football in the storied life of Jordi Lloret.
Fresh off a defining realization, Jordi placed the book back on the pile near the entrance, gave Señor Garcia a wide smile, and ran out.
Señor Garcia watched him till he bolted into the bakery a 100 metres away.
"I did what I could, little Layla. We cannot fight destiny. Even Don Quixote had to surrender to it. Who are we to be able to defeat it?"
He picked up his landline to call his daughter.
"That brat Ferran must be with her again. I should warn him beforehand."
…
As Jordi ran out of Old Garcia's bookstore, across the narrow street, Ferran Lloret was sharing a lover's meal with Ona Garcia in Madam Sofia's restaurant. Spotting Jordi run out, Ferran understood that his sister's plan had failed. Slightly pumped, but also scared of his sister's reaction, Ferran quickly got up to get his coat.
"It seems that the old man failed. I told Layla that he is no good."