Sunday morning, Ical's house felt busier than usual.
There was no school bell ringing.
No uniform to put on.
No books to pack into his bag.
For Ical, Sunday was the best day because he could sleep in and take his time getting up.
But that morning, he had already heard Mom's voice from the kitchen.
"Cal!"
Ical, who was still lying down, opened his eyes.
"What now, Mom?"
"Come help me for a minute."
Ical looked at the clock.
It was only seven in the morning.
"Mom, it's Sunday."
"Yes, I know."
"Why can't it wait?"
"You'll go play before you know it."
Ical fell silent.
Because she was right.
Once he left the house, he usually forgot all about the time.
From outside the bedroom, Dodi's voice rang out.
"Big Bro Ical's trying to escape his chores."
"I'm not escaping!"
"Then why haven't you come out yet?"
Ical got up at once.
"Dodi, don't act like you know everything."
Dodi laughed.
A few minutes later, Ical left the bedroom.
Mom was cleaning the living room.
"Help me carry a few things out of the storage room, okay?"
Ical looked toward the little storage room behind the house.
"The storage room?"
"Yep."
"Why do I have to do it?"
"Because you're strong."
Ical smiled a little.
Those words made him feel needed.
"All right."
Dodi heard him and came over too.
"I'll help, too."
Ical looked at his little brother.
"Don't make an even bigger mess."
"I can help."
"The last time you helped, you just played with water."
"That was then."
Mom smiled.
"You two can help together."
They went into the storage room.
The place was packed with old things.
There were boxes of books, old toys, gardening tools, and several things they hardly ever used anymore.
Ical spotted a large box.
"What's this?"
"Open it and see," Mom said.
Ical slowly opened it.
Inside were several old toys.
There were toy cars.
A little doll.
And a plastic ball whose color had faded.
Dodi picked up the ball.
"Whose is this?"
Mom smiled.
"That was Ical's ball when he was little."
Ical immediately took it from him.
"Seriously?"
"Yep."
Ical examined the ball.
"I used to play with this?"
"Yes. You even carried it everywhere."
Dodi laughed.
"Big Bro Ical used to like balls, too."
Ical smiled.
"Of course."
"But you were so tiny back then."
"Everyone used to be little."
Dodi nodded.
"Yeah, I guess."
They went back to cleaning the storage room.
After a while, Ical found a small box.
Inside were several old drawings.
He picked one up.
It turned out to be a picture he'd drawn himself when he was little.
The paper showed a house, a tree, and three people.
"I drew this?"
Mom nodded.
"You did."
"Why is it so bad?"
Dodi immediately burst out laughing.
"Because you didn't know how to draw yet."
Ical looked at his little brother.
"You might not know how, either."
"I can now."
Ical wanted to fire back, but he only smiled.
In the past, he probably would have gotten angry at being teased.
Now he laughed along instead.
When they finished cleaning the storage room, Ical sat on the porch, holding his old ball.
Dodi sat beside him.
"Big Bro."
"What?"
"Do you think little Ical and you now are different?"
Ical thought about it.
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Little Ical used to get angry more easily."
Dodi immediately laughed.
"You still do."
Ical turned to him.
"A little."
"A little?"
"Yeah."
Dodi nodded.
"At least now you don't go straight home when you lose a game."
Ical thought about the past few weeks.
About the ball.
About the competition.
About his new friend.
"Yeah, maybe I'm learning."
Dodi smiled.
"Big Bro Ical can sound wise, too."
Ical grabbed a chair cushion and tossed it at him.
"Don't be too impressed."
That afternoon, Raka came to the house.
"Cal, wanna go play?"
Ical came outside.
"What do you want to play?"
"Ride bikes."
Ical looked at the bicycle in the yard.
"Sure."
Dodi immediately joined them.
"Me too."
Raka smiled.
"Everyone's coming?"
"Yep," Dodi answered.
The three of them rode around the neighborhood.
At first, it was fun.
They went down little roads, looked at the rice fields, and stopped to buy shaved ice.
But on the way home, Ical's bike chain suddenly came off.
"Aw, man."
Ical got off.
His bike came to a stop.
Raka came over to look.
"Is it broken?"
"The chain came off."
Dodi got off his bike.
"Can you put it back on?"
Ical tried to fix it.
His hands started getting dirty from the oil.
He tried several times to put the chain back on, but failed.
"Ugh."
Raka watched him.
"Try it slowly."
"I already did."
"Don't force it."
Ical stopped.
In the past, whenever something didn't work out, he usually got angry right away.
He started to complain.
But then he looked at his bike.
The problem wasn't anyone's fault.
Nobody had done anything wrong.
It was simply broken.
Finally, he sat down.
"Let's just take it to a repair shop."
Raka smiled.
"Wow."
"What?"
"You're not mad."
Ical looked at him.
"Am I supposed to be?"
"You usually get upset when your plans fail."
Ical shrugged.
"Getting mad won't make the bike work again."
Dodi and Raka looked at each other.
Dodi whispered,
"Is this really Big Bro Ical?"
Ical heard him.
"Dodi!"
The three of them laughed.
The bike was eventually fixed at a repair shop near the house.
That evening, Ical sat on the porch, looking up at the sky.
That day, he realized something.
Controlling his emotions didn't mean he would never get upset.
The frustration was still there.
The disappointment still came.
But he could choose what to do afterward.
In the past, Ical had always let his anger take control of him.
Now he was starting to learn how to control himself.
Of course, there were still plenty of things he hadn't learned yet.
And Ical knew it.
There would always be something new to test his patience.