The Travellers - 8. The Righteous Boys

In which Jamie has an extremely unpleasant encounter with “real boys”, Collin and Kyle fight a desperate struggle for life and in which an opinionated judge rules a very strange verdict.

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 a deep grey under 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 the boys 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 curtly 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 daily. What they hadn’t expected is that the old man took “daily” very literal, coming around every morning at four o’clock, knocked at the door and screamed:

“The rent, please!”

“He is either a fool or a thoroughbred screw”, was the only comment Collin could think of.

After an equally long but less comfortable voyage they arrived at Inverness, where their next job was waiting. They made camp on a meadow 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 neighbors?

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

In a brisk pace he walked back along the road beside the river 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 got a feeling that somebody was following him. He casted a short glance over his shoulder. He was right, but it was not someone, but four boys. He couldn’t put the finger on it why, but in a way 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. By now he was sure: 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 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 yer own, sissy? Where is yer boyfriend? Or is the old one the only one who is allowed to put his pecker in ye?”

The other three stood by grinning.

“Does he fuck ye both?” the largest of them asked again.

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

“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 cock goes inside ye, faggot? Or are ye 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 was given, the same harassment game was repeated time after time, alternated with the most despicable and obscene questions and remarks.

“Come on, spoof, 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 ye!”

“Bugger off!” Jamie screamed, by now in panic.

The following round of pushing became more and more violent and aggressive.

The large boy looked at him in disgust, saying:

“You’re just a hole crawler. You are filth! You have no right to be here. You’re even not worth being alive!”

The last remark sounded ominous and did nothing to diminish Jamie’s panic; to the contrary: it only increased. But he was so astounded by the irrational reasoning, that he exclaimed:

“But…why not?”

The boy stared at him as if he looked at a pesty animal and hissed:

“Because my dad says your kind is an abomination to God!”, stuttering and stammering over the word ‘abomination’ and struggling very hard to get it out of his mouth in a more or less understandable way.

Then the first fist came. Jamie saw it coming and was able to ward it off. In a lightning reaction he struck out himself, hitting the other 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 mercy. Their number was too overpowering to stand up to for one boy. There was nothing else that Jamie could do than 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 and he heard someone asking a question:

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

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

“Throw him in the river. A spoof more or less…who cares?”

The cold water made him recover somewhat, at least he regained consciousness. Despite being in shock he was aware, that he was in deep, very serious trouble. He knew he had to get out of the water.

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

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

“Go on...”, he muttered, “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 to himself, hardly having the breath to do so.

In desperation he battled on towards the bank, clenching his teeth against the pain. It was an excruciatingly slow process. Finally, to his relief, his feet felt hard bottom. On hands and knees he crawled over the pebbles, in an all-out attempt to reach the shore. Again and again his strength failed him, making him splashing back in the cold water.

Vaguely he remembered that day when his father, in one of his drunken moods, had kicked him off the stairs from their small apartment on the third floor. He had crawled upstairs again on hands and knees, searching for the protection of his mother. He did it then, he could do it again!

He forced himself up again on all fours and tantalizingly slowly fought the whole way to safe dry land. His whole body was in great pain. Agonizingly sluggish he dragged himself to the haven of grassland, 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 felt 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 forlorn thought. Then he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Collin stared at the wall clock, literally seeing the minutes pass: half past eight! Outside night had already fallen.

“Where is this boy?” he asked himself aloud, feeling very 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 eight now”.

Abruptly Collin tore his eyes from the clock and looked at the door, thinking he heard something. Feeling a surge of relief, he said:

“Ah, there he is!”

But the door didn’t open. The only sounds that were heard were a faint scratching on the outside and the soft doleful 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, but he saw no one. The only one who had returned was the little dog.

Collin grabbed a hurricane-lamp and his coat. After lighting the lamp, he barked impatiently to Kyle, who sat like a very frightened, frozen statue:

“Grab one too and yer 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 sparse 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 panicky from the waterside:

“I got him! I found him! Hurry up!”

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, although just barely but at least there was still some life in the boy. He took his coat off and enveloped it around the limp body.

“Give me yer 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 desolate and anguished.

Only when they entered the wagon, the available light enabled them 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 pale color.

Collin started to rub him dry with every towel he could find. In the meantime, Kyle lit the stove and almost had it burn red hot. Collin was on his knees beside 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 choked voice he whispered:

“No, don’t let that 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 hopelessness as well.

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 color remained corpse-white and consciousness did not return.

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

“Ye too”, he ordered Kyle, “take everything off”.

Kyle looked at him with undisguised shock and surprise.

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

Naked he lay down besides Jamie, pressing his skin on the cold skin. Without further explanation Kyle grasped what Collin was trying to do, 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 a last ditch attempt to transfer their own 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 blazing stove.

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 made every effort 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 continuously in an effort to console him.

“Everything hurts like 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 a fearful 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 yet.

Kyle had very different emotions. His burning, youthful anger made, that as soon as he had his soup to warm up a bit, he wanted to go to town to find the bastard who did this to his love and beat the shit out of him. It eluded him, that it was no use to wander through the town like an angel of vengeance, looking for someone of whom he didn’t know how he looked like. There was only the will to settle the score!

Collin returned with a tray in his hands on which three bowls of steaming soup stood. He gave one to Kyle, who immediately started to gobble the hot fluid down greedily, craving for some warmth in his shivering body.

Collin put the tray with the remaining bowls on the floor, took one of them and a spoon, sat beside Jamie and started to feed him the soup spoon by spoon. It was a lengthier process as with Kyle, but the greed was equal!

Once Kyle had emptied his bowl, he smacked his lips and started to climb out of bed. Just when he was about to pull his undies and trousers on Collin stopped him with a curt:

“Where do ye think ye’re going?”

“To town”, Kyle replied, still in hot-blooded rage, “To find the scoundrel who did this and beat him to pulp!”

“No, ye’re not!” Collin exclaimed with a loud and stern voice, “Ye’re staying right here! What did ye want to do? Run around town like a mad dog and beating up every bloke ye see, without knowing if it is the right bloke?”

Kyle started to protest:

“Now, wait a minute! Are we just accepting this as willing victims? Then ye don’t know me, mister. I want this bastard!”

“Me too”, Collin replied in a softer tone, “But not now. Right now, yer place is here with Jamie, to comfort him, to relieve the pain as much as possible and to be there for him. We’ll discuss tomorrow morning what we are going to do about it and decide on it. Clear, laddie?”

Feeling somewhat embarrassed and ashamed about his rash reaction and realizing that it was very probable, that Collin was right, he nodded and crawled back in bed next to Jamie. He embraced the boy tightly and kissed him on the stern. He was gratified by Jamie’s eyes, who apparently had gathered enough strength to cast him a loving glance.

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 some clothes on and went to the door to open. In front of him were two police constables.

“Good morning”, the elder of the two spoke in the patented haughty way, “A word, please”.

It was just another one of those arrogant warrants.

“About what?” Collin asked genuinely surprised.

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

Collin only nodded in reply.

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

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

“Very 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, that 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 ye believe it. We travellers are always the scape goats. And why is that? Just because we have a different way of life? Have one of ye considered or actually just wondered what this good town boy and his chums have done to me apprentice? No of course not, that is outside the scope of yer limited thinking! But take a look, if ye have the courage! Come in and take a look!”

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

“That is what yer town boy angel and his good friends have done to ‘im”, Collin roared.

Without losing their authoritarian attitude the two policemen looked somewhat 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”.

Coming to rest again, he 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 home from town. And there 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 happen to 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 still wet 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 react the same way. I admit: travellers 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. 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, engaged in a heated conversation with one another.

Indeed, the doctor came. He examined Jamie thoroughly but fortunately enough he could not find any 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 pounds gap in the ever-dwindling financial reserves.

The police kept their promise. They rounded up the four culprits in no time. They turned out to be four boys from esteemed and honorable 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 and his own role in it. All of them were transferred to the district court of justice for trial.

Then it went sour. After an extremely 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, as their leader, got four months.

Collin and Kyle, who sat 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 also protested:

“But, Your Worship, all suspects have confessed themselves that they have 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 His Majesty’s forces. It was common practice: young convicts with light punishments were allowed to escape prison when 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. Even in peacetime, the war machine still needed its raw materials. 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 searched out 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 anger. However, nobody is allowed to take the law into 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, maybe even fifteen 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 refused flat out. 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.