The Boys and the Traveler

The Boys and the Traveler Part 8

Autumn had come all of a sudden and had rapidly replaced the summer, flogging the land with ocean storms. Strong gusts of wind sent cutting rain over the hills, which looked grey from the low clouds.

They travelled over the same road they had rolled over in spring, back to the interior of the country. Their job at Skye was done. They had a quiet time on the island: work, rest and learning new skills in their craft. The only peculiar thing that happened to them was their somewhat strange “landlord”.

When they arrived at Skye they had found a nice camping spot on an unused pasture. They had barely set up when an old man came along, who inquired what they were doing on his land. Oh, it was no problem, they were allowed to stay, but it would cost them twenty pence per day. After some negotiating the rent dropped to ten pence per day. What they hadn’t expected is that the old man came around every day at four o’clock in the morning, knocked at the door and screamed “The rent, please!”

“He is either a fool or a thoroughbred screw” was the only comment Collin had about it.

After an equally long but less comfortable voyage they arrived at Inverness, where their next job was waiting. They made camp on a pasture just outside the town to avoid problems. It was a longer walk to the job, but which good citizen of this town wanted travelers as his direct neighbours?

Jamie was on his way back to camp. He had bought the necessary groceries in town. It was his turn to do the shopping. He had taken Rascal, their little dog, with him to keep him company.

In a brisk pace he walked back with Rascal running happily beside him. It was dry, but cold. The sun was just setting and the low light shone sharply in his eyes, almost blinding him.

Somehow he had the feeling that somebody was behind him. He casted a short look over his shoulder. He was right, but it was not someone, but four boys. He couldn’t put the finger on it why, but somehow they appeared menacing. He increased his pace and said to the dog:

“Come on, Rascal, let’s go a bit faster!”

But the quartet behind him increased their pace as well. He was sure now: this meant trouble. He started to run, but the four did the same. Actually, they overtook him. They had no groceries to carry, so they were faster. Two were in front of him, two behind him, making him feel a like a fox between a pack of dogs on the hunt.

“Never knew that sissies went running went they had four boys behind them” the biggest of them said with a mean smile, “Just on your own, sissy? Where is your boyfriend? Or is the old one the only one who is allowed to put his dick in you?”

The other three stood by grinning.

“Does he fuck you both?” asked the largest again.

“Piss off and leave me alone” Jamie answered. He knew it was a terribly weak defence, but what else could he do?

“Now, don’t be rude” was the laconic reply. The first push was given. He staggered backward and bumped into the two behind him, who shoved him back.

“How does it feel when a dick goes inside you, faggot? Or are you the one who puts his dick in another guy’s ass?” the big boy asked with hate and disgust in his eyes.

A new push, the same game was repeated time after time, alternated with the most despicable and obscene questions.

“Come on, faggot, give me some answers” the same boy shouted, “Maybe we would love to fuck a guy too but we don’t know how. We want to learn something from you!”

Then the first fist came. Jamie saw it coming and was able to ward it off. In a flash reaction he struck out himself, hitting the second boy in front of him directly on the nose. The boy dashed back with a cry of pain and clutched his nose. It was one opponent less, but three still remained. And all of them started to hit him without any mercy. Their number was too superior for to stand up to for one boy. There was nothing else that Jamie could do than to sink on the road, protect his head with his arms and take the blows and kicks. More and more of his body started to ache. He had no idea how long the ordeal went on…at least until he lost consciousness.

For a very short time he came out of the black haze. The hitting and kicking had stopped. He heard someone asking a question:

“Hey Angus, what are we going to do with him?”

Then he succumbed again to the blackness in his mind. He didn’t hear the answer or it didn’t register it in his mind. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t, because the answer was:

“Throw him in the water. A faggot more or less…who cares?”

The cold water made him to recover somewhat, at least he regained consciousness. And immediately he knew he was in deep trouble. He knew he had to get out of the water.

“I have to get out of here” it flashed through his mind, “otherwise I will die!”

He wrestled himself to the bank, coughing and gasping for breath.

“Go on..” he thought, “I can’t leave Collin and Kyle!”

He swallowed a gulp of water, coughed it out again and struggled on.

“Oh man, coughing hurts so much” he murmured in himself.

In desperation he battled on towards the bank, clenching his teeth against the pain. Finally his feet felt hard bottom. On hands and knees he crawled over the pebbles, in an all out attempt to reach the waterfront. Again and again his strength failed him, causing him to splash back in the cold water. He felt as on that day when his father, in one of his drunken moods, had pushed him off the stairs from their small apartment on the third floor. He had crawled up again on hands and knees, searching for the protection of his mother. He had done it then, he could do it again.

He struggled up on his hands and knees again and fought the whole way to the shore. His whole body was in great pain. Agonizingly slow he dragged himself to the haven on dry land, inch by inch. Never before had he been so terribly cold, he shivered uncontrollably and his teeth clattered. After what appeared an eternity to him he finally reached the safety of the land. By now he had spent his last reserves of strength and resigned to an almost inevitable fate. It seemed as if his soul withdrew totally into itself. With his legs still in the cold water he collapsed on the ground.

“Rascal! Where is Rascal? Rascal is gone!” was his last thought. Then he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Collin looked at the clock: half past seven! Outside night had already fallen.

“Where is this boy?” he asked himself worried.

Kyle sat across the table and looked at him with large questioning eyes, expressing worry as well.

“This is ridiculous…he went shopping at three. I know: it’s a mile’s walk, but even then..it is half past seven now”

Collin thought he heard something. Relieved he said:

“Ah, there he is!”

But the door didn’t open. The only sounds that were to be heard were a faint scratching at the door and the yelping of a dog. Collin shot up out of his chair, ran to the door and opened it. To his surprise only Rascal came in who immediately lay down in a corner, trembling like a leaf in a storm.

“Rascal! Where is Jamie?” Collin exclaimed.

He looked outside in the dark night. Nobody else was to be seen. The only one who had returned was the little dog.

Collin grabbed a hurricane-lamp and his coat. After lighting the lamp he said to Kyle:

“Grab one too and your coat. We are going out to search for him!”

They left together in the direction of the town as the most logical choice. As good and as bad as the scarce light of the lamps enabled them they searched both road sides. It had started to rain and a cold wind was blowing. Time and again Collin had to relight the lamp, which became increasingly difficult with his ever colder fingers. He was just searching through some bushes on the landward side of the road when he heard Kyle calling frantically from the waterside:

“I got him! I found him! Hurry!”

He ran across the road towards the shine of the lamp at the water. He arrived at the moment when Kyle had just pulled the body fully out of the water and now the boy just stood there, helpless and desperate. What Collin saw in the dim light was so shocking, that it made his blood run cold in his veins. But he also knew he couldn’t afford to lose any time at all.

Jamie didn’t hear a thing but somehow his mind seemed to sense a sound. Were the four boys back to finish the job? He slightly recovered his consciousness and looked into a face. It was a face framed by long hair and a beard. His only functioning eye saw it, but his mind, numbed by fear, cold and pain, didn’t recognize it.

“Oh God,” it flashed through his mind, “It is Saint Peter…I’m dead!”

Instantly after that he blacked out again.

Hurriedly Collin searched for pulse and breathing. Both were there, it was just barely there but at least there was still some life in the boy. He took his coat off and enveloped it around the lifeless body.

“Give me your coat as well!” he barked to Kyle. Kyle’s coat went around as a second layer. Collin lifted the boy up and took him in his arms. He carried him back all the way towards their wagon. During this long walk with the heavy burden tears of grief and anger ran over his cheeks. He was going to find the one who was responsible for this and settle the score. Kyle walked right behind him, totally desperate and anguished.

Only when they entered the wagon they were able to examine to full extent of what had been done to their friend. One of his eyes was shut, swollen by the many hits. His lips were cracked in several places and blood was all over his face. Carefully Collin laid him on the floor and started to strip him of all wet clothes, which meant everything. When the still lifeless Jamie lay naked on the floor the total picture became clear: bruises and cuts were all over his body, small bloodstains were seen everywhere. But the worst thing was: his skin had an almost corpse-like white colour.

Collin started to rub him dry with every towel he could find. In the mean time Kyle lit the oven and almost had it burn red hot. He then placed a kettle of water on it. Collin was on his knees besides the limp body, still struggling to get it dry.

“Don’t die on me, laddie” he muttered totally upset, “Please don’t die on me!”

Kyle looked at him with tears in his eyes. Die? But that just wasn’t possible.

With a voice choked with tears he whispered:

“No, don’t let it happen…don’t let someone I love leave me forever again!”

“I’m not giving in that fast, laddie” Collin replied with more confidence than he actually felt himself. Because he was inching towards the border of desperation.

When Jamie was finally dry Collin lifted him up again and laid him on the bed. All blankets were piled on top of him. Even the spare blankets, which were used when it was really cold, were taken from their storage under the bed and put on top of the others. But it seemed useless. There was no sign of recovery: the colour remained corpse-white and consciousness did not return.

“That isn’t working” he said and started to undress.

“You too” he ordered Kyle, “take everything off”

Kyle looked at him with undisguised shock and surprise.

“No, not for that, laddie. I’m really in no mood for that!”

He lay down naked besides Jamie. Kyle carefully clambered over both of them and lay down on the other side. They literally sandwiched the unconscious and limp boy, skin to skin, in an effort to transfer their body warmth to the ice-cold figure between them. His motionless body radiated so much cold that they both started to shiver, despite the mountain of blankets on top of them and the stove burning red hot.

It seemed to take an eternity. Not only the cold seeped in their bodies, but desolation crept in their minds as well. Just at the moment when they both thought they had failed, Jamie opened his one working eye. The other remained closed, bunged up and swollen as it was. He looked around him in a dazed way and whispered softly:

“I saw Saint Peter”.

Despite the seriousness of the situation Collin broke in roaring laughter, more out of relief than because of the remark. But he controlled himself and took care not to ask the thousand questions that went through his mind, like what had happened and who had done this. He raised and went to the kitchen to make hot soup. It was more an attempt to get a grip on his feelings and to straighten out his thoughts, but on the other hand: hot soup would do them all good. Kyle stayed in bed with Jamie and kissed him in an effort to console him.

“Everything hurts as hell” Jamie moaned.

While stirring in the soup Collin wondered what he had to do. He had the urge to find the scum who did this himself and take revenge on them. But something kept him from deciding that way. Doing the right thing would be to report it to the police and let them handle it. It was one of his grandfather’s lessons: never take the law into your own hands. With gloomy eyes he stared in the soup, not knowing what to do. He struggled with two opposite feelings: on one hand hate and revenge, on the other hand to do the right thing as he had learned. He was not able to make a decision.

Kyle had the same emotions. But he realized himself that it made no sense to wander through the town as an angel of vengeance, looking for someone of whom he didn’t how he looked like. It was more important to stay here now, to comfort his friend, to relieve the pain as much as possible and to be there for him. He would discuss it with Collin the next morning and he would decide then what to do.

There was no need to decide anything for the both of them. It was decided for them. In early morning there was a knock on the door. Collin awoke with a bit of a shock, put on some clothes and went to the door to open. In front of him were two police constables.

“Good morning” the oldest of the two spoke, “A word please?”

It didn’t sound as a request, but more like a warrant.

“About what?” Collin asked genuinely surprised.

“Do you have an apprentice of about eighteen years old with black hair?”

Collin simply nodded.

“And where is he now?” the constable asked.

“Why all these questions” inquired Collin a bit annoyed.

“Well, “ the man replied, “we have received a complaint about him. A boy in town has filed charges for breaking his nose in some fight, which your apprentice started for no apparent reason”

That was too much for Collin. Policemen or not, he went mad and raged:

“Goddamned, what kind of nonsense is that? Because some town boy says so you believe it. We travelers are always the scape goats. And why is that? Just because we have a different way of life? Have one of you considered or actually just wondered what this good town boy and his chums have done to my apprentice? No of course not, that is outside the scope of your limited thinking! But take a look, if you have the courage! Come on and take a look!”

Without waiting for an answer he turned around and angrily walked to the sleeping part. The constables followed him, somewhat dumbfounded. They became even more flabbergasted when they saw Jamie, lying in the bed.

“That is what your town boy angel and his good friends have done to him” Collin roared.

The two policemen looked shocked. They hadn’t expected this.

“My God” is the only thing the oldest of them could say.

Collin controlled his temper and continued:

“And that is not all”. He controlled his rage and told them about where and how they had found the boy and what they had done to draw him away from the gates of death.

The younger police officer recovered as first and asked:

“What happened to you, boy?”

“I don’t know exactly, sir. I was on my way back from town. And they were four of them. I know I have been in the water but I can’t remember that much, apart that I woke up here in bed”

“You knew them?” the youngest asked.

Jamie shook his head.

“So you don’t know their names?”

Again Jamie shook his head, but then something popped up in his memory.

“I heard a name, sir…Angus! Someone asked him what they should do with me?”

“That is pretty peculiar” the oldest said, “the boy who reported it definitely was not named Angus!”

“And what should they do with you?” the youngest continued his questioning.

“I don’t know, sir…I guess I blacked out again”

The oldest asked for Jamie’s clothes and studied the blood stains on them carefully.

“Let’s go” he said to his younger colleague, “I think we ought to have another talk with that boy and investigate the matter a bit deeper”

Collin let them out. Just before he took his bike the oldest said:

“I will forget about your outrage. Actually, I think I would have reacted the same. I admit: travelers are not exactly dear friends of mine. We had too much trouble with them in the past. But there are limits. This, what seems to have happened here, will not be tolerated. Not as long as I am responsible for law and order in this town. I can assure you we will investigate this, we will arrest the culprits and if there is sufficient proof we will transfer them to the district court for trial.

Both took their bikes. Just before they wanted to leave the oldest seemed to have some afterthought.

“I will send the doctor later. I want a full examination of all the wounds, just for the record. Good morning”

With that they drove off, engaging in heated conversation with one another.

Indeed the doctor came. He examined Jamie thoroughly but fortunately enough he could not find real internal or vital damage. There were only superficial cuts and bruises. Even the eye was unharmed with the actual damage confined to the eyelids. He gave something for the pain, scribbled a few notes for his report to the police and left again, leaving a five pound gap in the ever dwindling financial reserves.

The police kept their promise. They rounded up the four culprits in no time. They were four boys from well-reputed and honourable families in town. Three of them confessed pretty fast. Their ringleader, Angus, turned out to be more obstinate, but after some subtle pressure he also admitted the whole story, including all details. All of them were transferred to the district court of justice for trial.

Then it went sour. After a very brief court session the old district magistrate found them guilty of maltreatment, but he considered the charge of attempt at manslaughter as not proven beyond reasonable doubt. The victim could have ended up in the water in a number of other ways. He convicted three of the boys to three months of juvenile detention, while Angus got four months.

Collin and Kyle, who were in the back of the courtroom, heard the verdict with disbelief. Kyle jumped up to protest, but Collin pulled him back to his seat and cut him off with a sharp “Hold yer tongue!” He thought there were enough problems without being fined for disrespect for the court.

But the prosecutor protested also:

“But, Your Worship, all suspects have confessed themselves that they had thrown the victim in the water!”

“You have my verdict, counselor. Please feel free to exercise your right for an appeal if you don’t agree with it”.

The old man gave the four boys a grand-paternal advice: they could avoid time in prison and keep their criminal records clean if they voluntarily enlisted in the forces. It was common practice: young convicts with light punishment were allowed to escape prison if they volunteered for the forces. The only one who gained from it was the government. It kept the prisons emptier and therefore cheaper and it gave the forces an easy way to beef up their stock of cannon fodder for a possible future war. With the added bonus that these volunteers were able to learn a decent trade, as far as killing people can be considered “a decent trade”

Then he hammered his wooden hammer and that closed the case as far as he was concerned.

After the session the prosecutor came to Collin.

“What do you think?” he asked, “Does your apprentice want an appeal?”

“Ask him” Collin replied gruffly, “But I regret that I haven’t settled the matter in my own way. They wouldn’t have had such a free ride as they have now!”

The man looked at him and shook his head.

“I will forget I heard this remark, mister MacKay. But I can imagine your reaction. Nobody is allowed to take the law in his own hands. And besides that..let’s suppose you would have found all four of them and you would have punished them the way you see fit. And let’s assume the police would have caught you. Any idea what this same magistrate might give you for that?”

Collin shook his head.

“My estimate: about ten years!” the prosecutor said, “You know, mister MacKay: it is said that the law is equal for everyone. But with this magistrate I always have the feeling that for some it is a lot less equal than it is for others”

He walked away, shaking his head wearily.

Collin also shook his head in a dejected mood. He asked Jamie if he wanted a new trial for the four, but the boy shook his head. He just wanted to forget about the whole thing and get on with his life. Collin smiled. The boy seemed wiser than his age suggested. Actually, he seemed wiser than he himself.