It was a muddy autumn day. The sun was nowhere to be seen and the dangling grass foretold of another upcoming storm.

Two rows of 10 children each stared each other down from about 50 feet apart. Between them, two oak trees, which once gave them shade, now spectated the event. Resting on one of them was an old man with a sword at his waist.

He was clean shaven and unusually muscular for his age. His armor was tattered by time, yet clean and well maintained. His eyes were clear and attentive.

“Ready?” Mr. Griffin, the village’s guard, raised an arm. “Begin!”

Two armies of six year olds clashed in front of the trees. They yelled squeaky war cries while trying to trip their opponents. Those who fell were disqualified and had to taste mud. Being the youngest and smallest in class, Finn was always the first one to drop.

“We lost again? Teacher, can we switch teams? Finchoo is terrible.”

Finn clenched his fists and wanted to scream at the unfairness. Everyone was a head taller than him, so what could he possibly do?

“Again!” the teacher ordered. “No whining.”

For the entire afternoon, the children wrestled in mud. Despite their best efforts, Finn’s team did not win once.

“Tomorrow, we run. Next Saturday, you’re fighting again, and losers do extra laps.”

“But, teaacher...”

“No buts! Warriors do not whine in the face of adversity. Face your challenges head on and persevere. Dismissed.”

Finn couldn’t tell if he was wise or had a screw loose. But, one thing was clear: ‘He’s not going to change the teams, and even if he did...’

“You suck Finn!” Michael, one of his colleagues, complained.

“Finchoo achoo,” giggled Natalie.

“You’re not so smart now, are you?”

Getting teased by six year olds was surprisingly effective. For the past owner of a major soap company to be reduced to this state: covered in mud and defeated by brats. ‘Unacceptable.’

With a new fire lit under his belly, Finn sprinted home. He grabbed a stick and a pile of mud and started writing down plans.

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‘Should I bribe them with eggs? No, too expensive. I can’t bribe the teacher either, since I actually need to get better.’

The problem was the size difference and the lack of coordination. No matter what plans he came up with, those dang kids wouldn’t follow them. ‘And, they dare blame the losses on me; how infuriating.’

Suddenly, a wave of water fell on top of his head. Finn turned around to see his father holding a bucket and his mother hitting the man’s shoulder.

“He’s gonna catch a cold, honey.”

“What? No, he looked like he needed to cool off.”

Joe gave the boy a wink, but before he could ask what was wrong, Elizabeth dragged Finn inside.

Covered in towels after a long bath, a slight fever finally caught up with the boy. “This day’s the worst.” Finn rubbed his nose and sneezed.

“Maybe,” Elizabeth gave him a hug and a kiss. “But, there’s still tomorrow.”

“They won’t listen to me. We can win if I can just get them to listen.”

“Hmm...” Elizabeth cut potatoes while contemplating something. “Did you know that this is the 3rd village we tried to settle in? The other two all but kicked us out.”

“Why?” Finn clutched his blanket and Elizabeth shrugged.

“They didn’t listen. We told the first village we’d start paying the nobles once our house was built. Like, could you imagine paying fees for an empty field while raising money for a house and putting food on the table? But nobody cared and they pressured us until we left.”

After placing potatoes and other vegetables into the stew, Elizabeth sat next to Finn and continued her story.

“The second village also insisted we pay. We didn’t want history to repeat itself, so we did.”

“And then?”

“They didn’t like where we placed our house. The foundation was half built when a neighbor came in complaining we took over the pasture. Apparently, that was where everyone brought their sheep to graze.”

“You couldn’t have known that.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth ruffled his head. “But, we could have asked beforehand. Did you know that all the villages around these parts must pay a fee to the local noble? If one villager doesn’t pay, the others have to cover for him.”

“They could’ve just said so.”

“Yes, they weren’t clear,” Elizabeth sighed. “But, we also didn’t listen.” She kissed the boy’s forehead. “The reason we could settle here is because we visited the neighbors as soon as we arrived and made sure we had their permission. We asked every question under the sun and made sure we fit within the village.

But son, did you make an effort to fit in with your classmates? Did you make any friends?”

Elizabeth ruffled his hair once more and went to check on the stew. It sounded harsh, but she knew her son better than anyone. Finn was a boy with an arrow’s focus. Whatever he set out to do, be it construction or making friends, he would accomplish it no matter what, as long as he wanted to do it.

“I have to make friends with them, don’t I?” Finn’s grimace brought a giggle out of his mother.

“You have to be genuine about it too.”

For the last 30 years of his old life, Finn hadn’t cared for anyone’s acceptance. He was successful, rich, and maybe even powerful. His friends loved him and his enemies hated him. There was no point in impressing anyone, no point in lowering himself for the sake of approval.

‘Is this that God’s punishment for me not having kids? I should’ve adopted a dog at the very least.’

As he gazed out the window at the pouring rain, Finn saw the old dog house and the old mut inside. Even at his considerable age (for a dog), Fluffy wagged his huge tail as soon as he saw his master.

‘This is not going to be easy.’ Finn rubbed his nose and started working on a plan. ‘Dogs and kids, how do you all function?’