Ameen Ibn Saeed decided this was the best birthday ever. Not only had his father come home on leave but he had also brought him his present. At first he was nervous in case the present was not what he had asked for and he would have to pretend to like it. His father handed him a large flat box and his hopes were raised as he tore the wrapping paper from it. Free of its bindings he lifted the lid from the box revealing the latest Manchester United replica shirt. He giggled with delight as he took the shirt out of the box and saw the bold white number 7 on the back of it and the name Beckham across the shoulders. “Thank you Father, thank you, thank you. This is the best present ever and look; number 7 for Beckham and for how old I am today.”
“You have been a good boy son and as I always tell you good things come to good people. Now why don’t you put on your shirt and we’ll go and score some goals.” Ameen pulled off the t-shirt he was wearing and slipped the bright red football shirt over his head. He brimmed with pride as they walked outside into blinding sunshine. They crossed the road and headed toward a park just minutes from their home. As soon as they entered the park gates his father kicked the ball ahead of them and Ameen went chasing after it excitedly. He caught up with the ball, putting his foot on it to stop it rolling. He turned to face his father and side-footed the ball toward him as he approached. His father met the ball, flicked it up with the toe of his left foot and volleyed it with his right foot back toward his son who jumped up and down with excitement. As the ball approached him he swung out but missed the ball which carried on past him. “Always trap it first. Take control of the ball then kick it. Once you are more confident you’ll be able kick it on the move.” He started running toward his son who responded by running toward the ball to beat him to it. He was giggling so much he almost fell over as his father passed him. Just as he was about to reach the ball his father fell onto the grass allowing his son to beat him to the prize. Ameen reached the ball and put his foot on it again to stop it rolling but he tripped over it and fell to the ground. Before he had chance to get up again his father was there to take the ball and kick it as hard as he could further into the grassy field. The ball rolled for about twenty metres before bouncing back toward them as if it had hit a wall. “What was that?” Ameen shouted. His father stood and stared for a moment before running at the ball and kicking it as hard as he could in the same direction. It flew forward toward the same point. This time it seemed to spin round in a loop before flying back toward them. Ameen’s father approached the spot cautiously, holding his hand out in front of him. When he reached the point where the ball had bounced back he waved his hand slowly in front of him. Ameen watched with amusement as his father thrust his hand forward and backwards into the air in front of him. But his amusement turned to horror as his father appeared to be pulled forward violently. An invisible force dragged him along the ground and span him around rapidly. His feet were in the air as his body span like an ice skater pirouetting. Ameen ran toward him but before he could reach him his father exploded and was gone, leaving only a shower of clothes falling back to earth at the point where he had disappeared.
Ameen was in shock as he pawed at the clothes that just seconds before had adorned his father’s body. The realisation hit him. His father had gone. He broke down into tears, hugging the empty garments. He was there for several minutes before a passer-by noticed him and came to ask him what was wrong and where his parents where. Ameen was unable to speak. He just sobbed uncontrollably holding on to his father’s clothes. The passer-by, a young woman of twenty, noticed a set of keys on the floor and asked Ameen if they were his. Ameen managed a few words through his sobs that the woman identified as “keys belonging to father who just disappeared”. She managed to get Ameen to show her where he lived. She was able to get him home and call his mother on the house phone. Ameen’s mother was at work but managed to get home within thirty minutes. On hearing Ameen’s account of the event and the woman’s account of how she had found him the mother called the police. The police did not arrive at the house for a further four hours and when they did Ameen’s father was with them. They said he had been wandering the streets of the City naked and had been reported to the police when spotted trying to steal clothes from a hotel balcony. Ameen immediately ran over to his father and embraced him but the man did not react to the boy. He turned to the policeman and informed them they must have the wrong house as he did not recognise it or any of the people in it.