Chapitre 126: Giving others courage.
That noon, Aldrich's lunch came a bit late but was quite simple. However, the atmosphere was lively. Along the Thames River, just outside Pepys Park, Aldrich treated everyone present to lunch—coffee and hamburgers.
Leaning against the railing by the river, he enjoyed his hamburger and said, "I love beef cheeseburgers! I don't care if I end up a big guy."
"Oh no, Aldrich! If you get fat, you'll be doomed! The poster in my bedroom will change into a mascot image!"
A beautiful young girl in the crowd smiled at Aldrich without any shyness.
Many girls stifled their laughter and nodded in agreement.
Aldrich signed autographs and took photos, chatting with them like friends.
As fellow young people, they were curious about what Aldrich's life was like. They asked about his favorite music, whether he played video games, what movies he watched, and some even gossiped about his relationship with Melanie.
Aside from sensitive topics, Aldrich was open about everything, engaging in a back-and-forth dialogue reminiscent of friends rather than a typical interview format.
When it came to movies, most of the young crowd enjoyed last year's James Bond film "GoldenEye," but Aldrich said he wasn't really into the flashy, heroic vibe of Bond. Instead, he preferred "Se7en," which came out six months ago.
Everyone shared their thoughts, and the conversation flowed freely; Aldrich felt like one of them.
Nearby, some parents were playing with their kids in the park. At some point, a soccer ball rolled into their midst, and Aldrich looked up to see parents bringing a five- or six-year-old boy over.
Suddenly, someone in the crowd started cheering for Aldrich to show off some skills.
Aldrich, feeling the pressure, skillfully lifted the ball with his toes and juggled it back and forth—looking quite competent.
Wow!
While everyone recognized that Aldrich was an excellent coach, nobody had ever witnessed him play soccer, leading to astonished exclamations from those around him. They chuckled and encouraged Aldrich to showcase some difficult skills.
Aldrich was used to being around football every day, so he had some sense of the ball, but performing tricks was asking a lot.
Still, he decided to give it a shot. He lifted the ball and tried to swing his leg around it before it landed, but he ended up failing miserably.
Bam! The ball went flying, hitting Brady right in the face.
"My face!"
Brady rubbed his reddened nose, causing a burst of laughter from the crowd.
Aldrich wasn't the least bit embarrassed. Instead, he eagerly started kicking the ball around with the children.
The kids were thrilled to be playing with Aldrich, and their pure, sweet laughter rang out, bringing joy to their watching parents.
Aldrich made a point to sign autographs for a few kids wearing Millwall jerseys. Just as he finished signing, his shirt was tugged by two little hands. He turned to see a pair of adorable, braided twin sisters, around six or seven years old.
"Aldrich, can I give you a kiss?"
The girls' bright eyes sparkled with joy; clearly, they were fans of his.
The crowd erupted in laughter, and Aldrich widened his eyes in disbelief, looking at the crowd before squatting down to the girls' level, smiling as he asked, "Do you like Millwall?"
"Yeah! Dad takes us to see the games every week, and Mom stays home to watch the live broadcasts with us."
"Exactly! Dad says he'll take us to the stadium when we're a bit older. He says it's too crowded now. Mom says Dad is a nutcase. If he gets too excited, he could forget to take care of us at the match."
The girls' innocent chatter made Aldrich and the others smile.
Aldrich continued, "Who's your favorite player on the Millwall team?"
Without hesitation, the girls chimed, "Ollie!"
What cute little faces!
Aldrich shrugged his shoulders helplessly and said, "But he's gone back to Norway to play."
The girls tugged at his shirt again, seemingly afraid he would run off. One of them said, "When it comes to the team, we like you the most, and then comes Ollie!"
Aldrich felt a bit shy at their sweet words and closed his eyes with a smile, saying, "Alright, you can give me a kiss on the cheek."
Kiss, kiss.
Both girls planted a kiss on his cheeks, and the sound of camera shutters clicked around them.
When Aldrich opened his eyes, he saw several reporters had captured the scene. One of them raised a hand and suggested, "Mr. Hall, why don't you take a picture with them?"
These days, carrying a phone is like carrying a camera; few of them had actual cameras. So, Aldrich posed for a group photo with everyone.
With some time left before the afternoon work began, Aldrich planned to continue resting. About thirty people stood together on the walkway by the Thames, when suddenly, music began to play.
Fred liked to carry around a Walkman, playing some music tapes, along with a mini speaker, and it was time for some tunes to come alive.
Hearing the melody, the young crowd couldn't help but join in singing along.
Aldrich often sang this song when he got together with friends, especially in East London, where this tune was quite popular.
Perhaps it was because Fred was a Black immigrant, he had a particular fondness for this song and often listened to it on repeat.
As the melody played, their enthusiasm reignited, and they sang loudly together.
"I said if you want to be my baby, it doesn't matter if you're black or white. I said if you want to be my brother, it doesn't matter if you're black or white..."
It was like a celebration; they jumped and danced, continuously repeating the chorus.
When their lungs reached their limit, the singing gradually faded out, and everyone, as if they'd accomplished something great, erupted in laughter and high-fives.
Aldrich checked the time; it was time to start working in the afternoon. He called out to Nordman, who was on the fringe of the crowd, "Sir, I'm starting work now."
Nordman shook his head with a smile, saying, "No, you already cleaned up the area this morning."
Aldrich chuckled, took a deep breath, and replied, "Alright then, gotta keep moving and do some exercise."
With that, he started jogging, and a group of people followed him.
Throughout the afternoon, they became a unique sight in East London, with Aldrich at the center.
Numerous media came to interview and document the day, pondering how to title the news.
If they consulted Aldrich, he would have simply told them: Spread the positive energy.
As the sun began to set, after an entire afternoon of picking up trash, Aldrich announced to Supervisor Nordman that their eight-hour workday was over.
The young people with Aldrich erupted in cheers, while he just smiled, feeling nothing remarkable about it. He believed that cleaning the environment while bringing joy to others made the day fulfilling and meaningful.
Just as he was about to leave, a woman walked up to Aldrich and asked with a worried look on her face: "Mr. Hall, can I ask you a favor?"
Aldrich glanced at the surrounding crowd and signaled for the woman to step aside for a private conversation, knowing that her request was likely personal and should not be made in public. Once they reached a secluded spot, Aldrich calmly listened to the woman's request.
It turned out that her eight-year-old son had fallen off his bicycle and suffered a fracture. He was scheduled for a minor surgery tomorrow, but the little boy was terrified. This mother hoped that Aldrich could encourage him, as the boy was a fan of Millwall and idolized Aldrich, who stood on the sidelines, fearless and commanding like a general.
Aldrich didn't think twice before agreeing.
Waving goodbye to the others, Aldrich and three companions followed the woman to her home, a modest little apartment.
When Aldrich stepped into the boy's bedroom, the little guy in bed froze at the sight of him, finally stuttering, "Y-you are Aldrich, right?"
Aldrich nodded and sat down beside him, noticing the boy's arm was bandaged and perched on his chest—clearly, he had been hurt.
The little boy was overjoyed, and he began to babble about his love for Millwall.
Aldrich noticed the boy's room had a poster of the entire Millwall squad on the wall, along with many photos of players like Nedved, Larsson, Trezeguet, and Makélélé—each captured in heroic moments on the field.
"Hey, so you're having surgery tomorrow, right?"
The boy's face paled slightly, fearfully nodding.
Aldrich leaned closer, pointing to a small scar near his hairline, saying, "Do you see this scar?"
The boy examined it closely and replied, "Yeah. How did you get it? Is it a birthmark?"
"No, I got it when I fell off my bike at ten. I had to have surgery then too, and I was so scared I cried like a baby. But you're braver than I was because at least you haven't cried yet."
Aldrich's words left the boy in stunned silence.
Still, he worriedly said, "What if the anesthesia doesn't work tomorrow? It'll hurt so much."
"Are you a real man?"
"Of course!"
"Do you love your mom?"
"Absolutely! She's the one I love most!"
"Good. Listen carefully: before I had my surgery, I was terrified too, but when I saw my mom crying in worry for me, I told myself I couldn't let her worry because I was grown up now. A true man isn't defined by how strong he is; it's about bringing courage and confidence to others. If you're a real man, do you know what to do?"
The boy gazed at Aldrich, and with encouragement in Aldrich's gaze, his expression turned serious. Suddenly he jumped off the bed and dashed out of the room.
Aldrich heard the boy's resolute words ringing from the living room.
"Mom, I'm not scared at all! Just a small surgery. I'll just sleep through it; you don't need to worry. It's nothing!"
Aldrich smiled as he left the room and found Ivan standing outside with her mouth pressed into a thin line, giving him a thumbs-up, then softly asking, "Did you really cry?"
"I just fell and passed out. When I woke up, the surgery was already done."
Aldrich held back laughter and winked at her.
Ivan erupted into laughter.
The boy's mother knew Aldrich's encouragement had made a big impact. She warmly invited Aldrich and his friends to stay for dinner. Unable to decline the mother and son's hospitality, Aldrich stayed along with Ivan, Fred, and Brady, and they didn't act like guests, pitching in to help prepare the meal.
A simple yet delightful dinner was shared in that little apartment...
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
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