tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85211464581404687912024-03-19T08:35:19.341+00:00Writing for PosterityFrom dawn to dusk, a semi-biographical account of a bizarre lifeUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-61891780770345069642019-01-21T23:26:00.000+00:002020-02-20T20:12:28.929+00:00ADC.00The original manuscript for A Different Class was written in its rawest form. It wasn't a novel it was merely a statement of facts, warts 'n' all - with names and locations changed for the obvious legal reasons. The fictitious element surrounded the characters which were often a combination of several people and this was purely for simplicity.<br />
<br />
I didn't anticipate any problems at the time of writing because there was never any real motivation to publish. The work was simply a self-analysis, a longing to know how and why I became the person I am. Encouragement from others led to the publishing but then the first problem arose. Genre. I pulled no punches and whilst there was nothing explicit, there were several implied sexual situations. Again, simply a statement of facts.<br />
<br />
When analysing the manuscript I saw that the focal point was largely the bullying that went on. It then became apparent the book, if it was to serve any purpose, should adapt to cater for the group affected by these issues. I cut out the swearing and the implied sexual content on these grounds and was then told replacing profanity with an acceptable word (most notably 'fudge') made the text farcical. I then worked around that by omitting dialogue in which profanity was used, using instead something like 'he swore'.<br />
<br />
This is the work in its latest form and whilst still evolving (there were many omissions that will be added during the course of time) I feel this incarnation suitable for a YA audience. Bullying is just one kind of abuse however, and this book also highlights other kinds which I have handled as delicately as I am able.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-61279942250070167402019-01-20T12:59:00.000+00:002020-02-20T13:23:52.335+00:00ADC.01<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><em><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: large;">'Large streams from little fountains flow, Tall oaks from little acorns grow'</span></em></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #20124d;">The secluded mining village pretty much remained as it always had. Change was slow and largely unwelcome. It was built just after World War II to provide homes for the colliery workers. Surrounding countryside made for an idyllic nursery, where youngsters could fully explore the wonders of boyhood. The swinging sixties, free-love, and pot-smoking hippies, had made little impact on the pragmatic and largely insular inhabitants of the village. It was a place a boy would hasten away from as soon as he was of an age, the alternative being a career in the coal-mine. Even that began to look tenuous as the sixties were replaced by the seventies, when glam-rock and disco provided the nation with the worst decade of music imaginable. Joel Phillips was born in the first month of the decade and often wondered if that was the problem he had, or one he inflicted.</span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="color: #20124d;">Joel was not unique, many of the village boys having almost identical backgrounds, but the fates of the boys were to vary considerably. With his brother born nine years earlier, Joel's mother had become broody and finally the decision to have another child was made. Were they insane? In hindsight they would have to be. In a marked contrast of what was to come, Joel was brought into the world, not kicking and screaming, but chilled out, and smiling. Resisting the urge to slap the mother, the doctor instead slapped Joel's bum and he started to cry.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #20124d;">"What the hell was that for?" must have travelled through the mind of the howling infant.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="color: #20124d;">Perhaps it was just a warning of things to come........</span></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>1. Freedom</u></b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Many adults take freedom for granted, until they feel their civil liberties have been denied. Yet these same adults deny their children a taste of this gift. This story will do little to allay the fears of nervous parents, but childhood spirit should be nurtured not stifled. There is little to compare to those first furtive steps into the great wide open. Prepare them, don't prevent them!</b></span></i><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
No longer was Joel a mere child, he was nine and a half years old! The strings of mother's apron had been severed and he was free to explore boyhood without restraint. He had been under the wing of no-nonsense, but nonetheless doting, grandparents for his first few years of school life. Now at nine and a half (those halves are so important) and the summer holidays here, Joel was finally trusted enough to look after himself during the daylight hours. Joel felt as if he had been set free and like a fledgling flapping its wings for the first time, he wanted to fly.</div>
<br />
As with every morning, Joel raked the ashes from the fire-place and shovelled them into the empty coal scuttle. He carried the scuttle to the bottom of the garden with ease, and emptied the contents into the corner allocated for ash. The ash would later be spread around the boundaries where Joel's father grew vegetables, he said it was to keep the slugs away.<br />
<br />
Joel stopped at the coal bunker on the way back and filled the scuttle with a fresh batch of coal. Next was the wood pile. It was stacked up with neatly chopped wood, each stick 6 x 1 x 1 inch in measure. Another one of Joel's chores was to split the logs and keep the kindling well-stocked. A couple of times Joel had depleted the reserves and found himself on a wintry morning, wearing just his pyjamas, chopping wood in sleet or snow. It was all a lesson, life is a lesson. Even had he been warned there was no substitute for learning the hard way, unpleasant as it may be. Splinters and a careless blow of the axe became less frequent with time.<br />
<br />
Squeezing the kindling between the coal and the metal handle of the scuttle, Joel struggled to carry it back indoors. The scuttle filled with ash was light compared to the solid fuel it now contained. His legs were wide apart, the object dangling precariously between them as he huffed and puffed towards the fire-place. If a piece of coal was to fall from the scuttle onto the carpet, valuable time would be lost. Coal marked the carpet and had to be vacuumed before any remaining residue could be scrubbed off. Joel was in no mood to scrub the carpet today, it was the first day of the summer holidays and he was anxious to see his friends.<br />
<br />
If it had been a weekday and his parents at work, Joel would have been tempted to leave the fire until later. He knew it wasn't an option today. Scrunching old newspaper pages into balls, he threw them into the empty hearth, taking care to make sure some paper poked through the grill for lighting. Joel put the wood over the paper, criss-crossing it to allow an air flow, then carefully placed coal on top by hand.<br />
<br />
The fire had to be just right or it wouldn't light properly, and then it was a pain in the butt trying to get it going. Joel made his first fire at five years old, he was an expert now. Wiping his hands on his jeans Joel looked at the black smears and shrugged. It didn't matter. He was going out and was likely to come back covered from head to foot in mud and / or blood,. It was expected.<br />
<br />
It is difficult to tell if Joel was accident prone of just reckless. Joel liked to think it was more a case of being adventurous. Taking the bread knife, Joel cut a thick slice from a loaf and scooped some of his grandmother's cherry jam onto it. Joel and his friends had picked the cherries and now he was reaping the rewards.<br />
"Oww!!" Joel howled and looked at his mother quizzically.<br />
<br />
The slap to the back of his head was out of the blue. It always hurt more than when he braced himself. Joel's mother looked pointedly at the jam-jar with the top off and the boy realised his crime. He screwed the lid on and put the jar back in the cupboard. Snatching up his crude sandwich Joel headed for the door.<br />
"Where are you going?" his mother demanded.<br />
"Out"<br />
"Out where?"<br />
"I don't know yet"<br />
"Who with?"<br />
"Mummmm!"<br />
"Who with?" she repeated.<br />
"Everyone! It's school holidays and it's Saturday"<br />
"Be back no later than seven o clock"<br />
"Nine"<br />
"Eight"<br />
"Eight-thirty" Joel ventured but he was pushing his luck.<br />
"Seven-thirty"<br />
"Okay eight" he conceded.<br />
"Too late it's seven-thirty and if you say another word it will be back to seven"<br />
<br />
Joel left muttering under his breath. He should have known better than push it too far. The streets looked somehow different this day as Joel walked hurriedly to the home of his friend Jamie. Brighter, more alive, and filled with prospects.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
"He's still in bed sweetheart" Jamie's mother told Joel.<br />
"Wake him up then!" was what Joel wanted to say.<br />
"Okay I'll come back later" was what he actually said.<br />
<br />
Joel trudged off. It was a pattern he would get used to. Most of his friends didn't have chores and could lie in bed as long as they wanted....... and most were given pocket-money! At least this year Joel could get a newspaper round, if he timed it right. With there being no secondary school in the small village, the older boys had to get a bus or train to the next town. It meant they didn't have time to deliver the papers before having to set off to school. Several times Joel had asked for a round, but they were all taken and it was a case of waiting until one of the older boys left. It probably wouldn't be until the end of summer though and Joel needed the money now. The ticket collectors were getting wise to Joel and his friends, making it harder to bunk the trains.<br />
<br />
It was pointless asking for money at home, there just wasn't any. Joel remembered the tantrum he threw saying it was unfair how his friends were given pocket-money and he wasn't. The tantrum was more a moody, pouting, sulk. It was as demonstrative as Joel was allowed without a slap to the back of the head. Joel's father sat him down at the kitchen table one day and put his weekly wage in the middle. Joel's eyes were like saucers, he had never seen so much money. Seeing the look on his son's face Mr. Phillips rubbed his hands excitedly.<br />
"Let's see what we have then" he said and began to peel notes off the top "Mortgage......"<br />
<br />
Notes were taken for gas, electricity, water, food, etc. until just two were left. Joel's mother reached over and took one of them.<br />
"This can go in the jar towards some new shoes for school"<br />
<br />
Joel hated that jar. It was like putting forbidden fruit in front of a starving man and expecting him not to eat it. The savings jar was kept in a cupboard in the kitchen and usually had a healthy amount of notes and coins in it. Joel watched as his mother put the note in with the rest, and rubbed his butt as if remembering the pain it had caused him. On one occasion Joel had stolen a pound note from the jar thinking 'just one won't be missed'. He didn't realise his mother knew to the penny exactly how much was in the jar at any given time. The severity of the beating was testimony to that. Even then it was mild compared to the second occasion Joel's fingers became sticky.<br />
<i></i><br />
<i>Joel's parents had returned from a night out and thought he was asleep in bed. As was usual Joel had stayed downstairs long after his bed-time, watching television with the lights off. He turned the contrast down to darken the screen so it couldn't be seen lighting the room from outside. When Joel heard the car pull up he would turn the television off and run upstairs, jumping into bed just as the door opened. His parents always looked in on him but Joel pretended to be asleep.<br /><br />On the fateful night, Joel had crept back downstairs after his parents had gone to bed. He put his hand in his father's jacket pocket and struck gold. There were lots of coins and Joel took a handful. After putting them in his own jacket pocket hanging on the back of the door in his bedroom, Joel went back to sleep.<br /><br />It was very early in the morning when Joel became aware of someone in his room. Opening one eye a crack, he saw his father going through his pockets. A sense of dread made Joel feel sick in the stomach. The slight jingle told Joel his father had found the incriminating evidence and tears began to well up in anticipation of what was to come. Joel's father left the room silently but the boy knew it wasn't the end of the matter. He didn't move and squeezed his eyes closed tighter. 'Please God don't let him hit me, please, please, please' Joel prayed silently.<br /><br />Joel was an altar boy, surely God would listen to him. 'Please Dear Lord Jesus, please help me. Please Blessed Virgin Mary save me' he prayed to all hoping one at least would listen. They didn't. Joel's father came back into the room carrying the leather belt which meted out punishment for transgressions. With his eyes closed Joel sensed his father's presence in the room. A big meaty hand closed around Joel's skinny little upper arm and the boy felt himself yanked out of bed in one easy motion. There was no time to react because Joel was still in mid air when he felt the first stinging lash on his buttocks.<br /><br />Trying desperately to squirm out of his father's grasp Joel wriggled and a second blow caught him on the back. Joel knew to struggle just made it worse but it was impossible not to, such was the pain inflicted. Another blow caught the back of Joel's legs as his father homed in on the moving target. Joel put his hands behind him to protect his buttocks but one direct hit on soft hands made them withdraw quickly. There was no set amount of 'lashes' Joel would receive making it somehow worse, and the blows kept coming. Joel's bowels relaxed and a brown noxious liquid seeped through his pyjamas as the next lash of the belt made an amplified slapping sound. Then it was over. Joel fought back the racking sobs which made breathing difficult and took his father's proffered hand for the customary post-beating handshake.<br /><br />Joel's father insisted they shake hands afterwards just as he had with his father. When his father left the room Joel gingerly peeled back his pyjama pants. They were stained with a mix of liquid faeces and blood. Mrs. Phillips came into the room and saw the state of her son.<br />"Take those outside and rinse them under the tap, I'll run you a bath" she instructed in a soft but firm voice.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div>
<i>Joel cursed the fact he had soiled himself. He carried his pyjama pants downstairs and out the back door to the tap. Cold water splashed his bare legs as Joel put his pyjama pants under the flow, The cold wind was both a comfort and an agony, it froze his legs and feet but had a soothing effect on his buttocks. The relief was only temporary, the subsiding pain would be heightened again in the bath. Joel wrung his pyjamas out and dashed back inside the house.</i></div>
<i><br />The hot water was like fire on his buttocks as he knelt in the bath. Joel's mother cleaned him up, each dab of the sponge bringing a new agony. He thought the ordeal was over as his mother dabbed his buttocks dry with the coarse towel.<br />"Go and lie on your bed I'll get the TCP"<br />"Mum no! Please!"<br />"It has to be done the skin's broken and you might have muck in it"<br /><br />Tears were welling up again. Joel hated the antiseptic liquid which stung worse than the hot bath water. His mother applied the liquid with a cotton ball. Joel winced and let out an occasional yelp when the liquid entered an open wound. He never stole money from his parents again.</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>* * * * *</b></div>
<br />
To a 'townie' the countryside must have seemed an idyllic place and a safe environment for kids, but there were dangers everywhere. A disused railway, a canal, a pump-house irrigating the land, a coal slag heap still with trenches and bunkers from the war should the country be invaded, sluice water from the mines formed a black lake. Then there were the woods, with rope swings and the swimming hole. Despite being constantly warned of the dangers, the boys took no notice. Of course there were accidents but it was part of growing up. The occasional broken bone or countless cuts and bruises were more than compensated for by the ability to run free and explore.<br />
<br />
Sunday morning wasn't Joel's favourite part of the weekend. While most of his friends were laying in bed Joel was up emptying the pedal bin into the main dustbin outside. His mother refused to buy the new plastic bin liners; she had always used the paper carrier bags from the supermarket. Whilst townsfolk decided to save the planet by not cutting down trees to make paper bags, and used instead these new-fangled bags that take like a million years to bio-degrade, the village people stayed firmly in the past.<br />
<br />
It cost money for the plastic bags and pennies were short. Joel emptied the bin and screwed the hose-pipe to the outside tap on the wall of the house. Turning the tap on the water oozed more than flowed out of the end of the hose. Joel sleepily put a thumb over the end of the hose to increase the pressure. He covered too much of the hole and cold water sprayed in every direction. The spray in his face snapped Joel out of auto-pilot in an instant. He eased his thumb back until the pressure was enough to spray the inside of the pedal bin with sufficient force to rinse the marks off.<br />
<br />
Joel was being lazy, he was supposed to use the hand-brush to scrub the inside, but it wasn't too mucky this time. He made the fire next and the dampness of his fingers acted like a magnet for the dust from the wood and coal. Pretty quickly Joel's hands were black. He lit the fire straight away, as was usual on a Sunday morning. It was bath day and the fire was kept going all day, even in summer. It was needed to heat the water. Wedging the poker in the grate Joel put the newspaper over the hole to draw up the fire.<br />
<br />
It took barely a minute before Joel saw the first small flames illuminate the paper from behind and he took it down. Too quickly! A ball of smoke wafted into the room, straight into Joel's face. He coughed and spluttered as he rubbed his eyes.<br />
"Look at the state of you; you cant go on the altar like that!" his mother scolded.<br />
<br />
Joel looked at his hands and was about to wipe them on his shirt.<br />
"DON'T DO THAT! Have you got cotton-wool for brains? Get upstairs and wash that lot off"<br />
<br />
Joel walked to the stairs and quickened his step as he passed his mother, avoiding the swipe he knew was coming.<br />
"And use soap!" his mother called after him as Joel disappeared upstairs.<br />
<br />
Mrs. Phillips knew her son well. Joel didn't like soap. The greasy feel made him shiver and it stung his eyes when he washed his face. Often Joel would just wash with water straight from the tap. It didn't work with coal though and he had to scrub his hands properly. Joel's mother would check the boy's finger nails before letting him go to church. It didn't always help. The walk to church was quite long and Joel had to call for Jamie and Ashley on the way. A lot could happen before they reached the church.<br />
<br />
Usually the boys served at the altar twice a week, on Sundays and Thursdays. It was maybe a little surprising it was the three boys considered the toughest who did it, and voluntarily as well. Unfortunately they weren't little angels and there was a motive. On a Thursday the whole school had to go to church. The school was built with funds from the church and was conveniently situated next door. Those boys serving at the altar had free time before and after the service.<br />
<br />
The service passed without incident and ended with the priest thundering out a hell-fire and damnation sermon before the boys stood either side of the exit doors with the collection plates. Afterwards as the boys changed they discussed what to do that afternoon. They headed to the playing field. It was only 11:30am, the rest of the boys who went to the other primary school in the village would only just be arriving. Most boys could stay up as late as they wanted on Saturday night and rarely emerged much before noon on a Sunday. Only the Catholic boys had to go to church.<br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
Academically the kids at the Catholic school did a lot better than their football friends at the regular school. It was due in no small part to the nuns who taught them. The 'times tables' were learnt parrot-fashion and there were only three in Joel's class who didn't know up to their twelve times table by eight years old. More of the Catholic school kids went to grammar school and Joel was already beginning to stand out. Joel thrived on school-work. Everything was interesting and he had an insatiable curiosity for anything new. Joel's father had recently left the coal mine and gone to sea but when at home, he was an inspiration to the boy. He seemed to know so much for one who never himself had an education. What was more, he taught Joel valuable lessons on life that weren't taught in school.<br />
<br />
If Joel's father didn't know the answer to a question, he would be honest and say so, but he would make a point of finding out and then pass on the knowledge. Too many people when they don't know the answer will guess so as not to lose face, or worse still they will make assumptions based on what they have been told by the ill-informed. Joel looked to be destined to follow his brother to Forester Grammar, a semi-private boarding school, so with the mines facing closure and a mortgage to be paid, his father opted for the relatively secure employment afforded by the sea.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
The pump-house linked a series of dykes which irrigated the surrounding agricultural land. Like Forbidden Wood, Witches Lake, and other places, it was considered dangerous and the inevitable story of how some kid had drowned was circulated. Nobody could name the boy though. All these stories associated with places parents would rather their kids kept away from, were taken with a pinch of salt by the boys, but perhaps the pump-house deserved its reputation. There were three pumps side by side which were automatic. They would pump vast volumes of water through into the channels to keep the dykes full. When at a certain level the pumps would cut out and the water would stop flowing. It was then the boys clambered onto the slippery algae covered sections and hand-pick eels as they clung to the algae before dropping into the water.<br />
<br />
The main danger was it being impossible to predict when the pumps would kick in again, since they ran on water volume not on a timer. Sometimes it was ten minutes, sometimes half an hour. Occasionally they would start up again within just two or three minutes. The boys would gather the eels quickly, then wait for the pumps to start and stop again before getting more. Often the boys would spend all day at the pump house, especially when the fields were close to harvesting. All sorts of 'goodies' became available. Maize, onions, potatoes, lettuce, all manner of things were there for the taking. The kids made little impact on the overall crop and most farmers accepted the fact the boys would leave with as much as they could carry. There were exceptions though as Xander, Mattie, and Joel were to find out to their cost. It was the wrong time of year on this occasion, most of the fields having just been planted. It didn't prevent a detour via Potter's Pond on the way home though.<br />
<br />
This was where Mattie was in his element. Most of the boys could hunt and fish, but nobody could tickle a trout like Mattie. Alan was better than most of the rest of the boys but even he couldn't match Mattie's prowess. As the boys walked to the pond Joel put an arm round Mattie's shoulder.<br />
"You gonna get me one?" he asked in his best grovelling voice.<br />
"Course, don't know why you can't do it yourself though"<br />
<br />
Joel had never mastered the art of tickling a trout and although he always tried, he only ever managed to catch one and swore that was a fluke because the trout was depressed and suicidal, wanting to be eaten. Mattie always caught one or two for Joel and any of the other boys who wanted them. Ashley didn't bother, one trout wouldn't go far in his house. Jamie too chose not to take one, hating the slimy feel of the fish. Joel loved taking them home, his mother and father liked trout and sometimes gave him some copper coins for his efforts. The money didn't really matter to Joel, he felt so proud just to be putting food on the table.<br />
<br />
The kids stealthily approached the pond which was always stocked full of trout. Potter guarded his pond jealously and poachers were poachers, however old they were. Old Potter wasn't able to give chase very well but he had a pellet rifle, and he was a good shot. Most of the boys had been hit at one time or another. It stung like hell and left a big red dot wherever the lead pellet hit. The next day blue and yellow surrounded the red as the bruising came out making the skin look like a little target. The pellets didn't penetrate the boys' clothes so the skin was never broken, but one time Alan was hit on the head and Joel had to use his finger nail to dig the pellet out that had lodged into the skin.<br />
<br />
At the pond some of the boys became nervous and held back. There was no sign of Potter but they knew he would be somewhere close by. Mattie, Alan, Xander, and Joel crept forward on hands and knees. Xander kept watch whilst the other three dipped their hands in the water, waggling their fingers. Mattie had an almost instant success and flicked a decent sized fish up onto the bank. Within fifteen minutes Mattie had two more, Alan had caught one but Joel was still without luck. Suddenly Xander shouted.<br />
"There's Potter, he's seen us, run!!"<br />
<br />
The boys picked up a fish each and ran as fast as they could.<br />
"Yikes!" Alan yelped as Potter's first shot found its target.<br />
<br />
His second shot missed and the boys were out of range by the time he reloaded again. Out of breath, the quartet caught up with the others and flopped down on the grass.<br />
"Where did he get you?" Xander asked Alan.<br />
<br />
Alan stood up and showed the tell-tale red spot on his lower back. Mattie spat on his fingers and rubbed the saliva over the dot causing Alan to wince. It was how the boys treated most wounds or injuries but whether it was actually of any practical use is questionable. It seemed to work, but perhaps it was just the empathy and camaraderie among the boys that made it feel better. Even the boys that didn't really like each other much exercised concern for a wounded comrade, something which was commendable but quite the norm for the boys of the village.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-33128720233822878172019-01-19T13:01:00.000+00:002020-02-20T14:02:49.974+00:00ADC.02<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4r08PH3O6fUsuEK0646lopCMyqKVZYAvd8kK5HgHn5ZzHXDt5nAmp_Oe1HwtALEcybObnur4ydHqCNaM2iEUXIeE8ureAnnhjm7HHEMtrrnkdw5wxC9ckOiT2bPsVupybvaJ6V2PG5FUN/s1600/front2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4r08PH3O6fUsuEK0646lopCMyqKVZYAvd8kK5HgHn5ZzHXDt5nAmp_Oe1HwtALEcybObnur4ydHqCNaM2iEUXIeE8ureAnnhjm7HHEMtrrnkdw5wxC9ckOiT2bPsVupybvaJ6V2PG5FUN/s1600/front2.png" /></a><b><u>2. Scraps and Scrapes</u></b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="color: #741b47;">'Parents try to wrap their kids in cotton wool and freak out at the mere sight of blood. As kids we were forever hurting ourselves but very rarely was it serious' - jp</span></b></i></div>
<br />
There was an unwritten code in the village. A boy didn't tittle-tattle, grass, snitch, or however else it is termed. Parents would say 'nobody likes a tell-tale', then in the next breath tell the boys not to lie. This confused Joel and gave him his first taste of double standards. For most of the village boys, lying would result in a beating and they soon learnt how to be 'conservative' with the truth. As harsh as the regime within the village may seem to some, it didn't feel that way to the boys. Almost without exception they considered beatings justified as they were a result of some transgression. The boys knew nothing else, they knew the potential risks, rewards, and / or penalties for misdemeanours.<br />
<br />
Sometimes this schoolboy 'code of silence' could be dangerous. Today was one of those days. A whole gang of boys made their way out to Haunted Wood. They had to pass through a lot of fields which varied considerably in nature. A field full of ripening spring onions was too good to pass up. Each boy gathered up handfuls and climbed over the fence into the next field to eat them. The next field was a meadow with cows some distance away, there was no sign of the rumoured bull. It was difficult to tell apart from a distance because the cows had horns as well.. The bull might well have been a myth conjured up in the minds of imaginative youngsters as none of the boys could recall seeing it for certain<br />
<br />
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One of the reasons the Haunted Wood wasn't as popular as other similar woods, was because of its location. It stretched across a main road between the boys' village and another one, at about equal distance. This road added fuel to the ghost theory, it was an accident black spot. Some motorists claimed to have seen an apparition gliding across the road in front of them. Haunted Wood did have the best rope swing though. A rope hung from the branch of a tree stretching out over a long drop. The boys would swing from one side of the tree over a what was to them certain death, and round to the bank on the opposite side. It was heart-stopping for the boys and they tingled with excitement, the danger heightening every sense.<br />
<br />
They had done this for months without a problem and had many turns this day. All was well until dusk was upon them and it was time to hurry home. The long summer days meant it was late already and there would be trouble at home. Taking one last turn Joel swung out fearlessly and it was then the rope broke. He plunged thirty feet to the ground below. Joel was fortunate in the respect he landed on a bush which broke his fall a little and may have saved his life. The other boys looked down in horror. Joel wasn't moving and didn't make a sound, his small frame twisted at unnatural angles.<br />
"He's dead" Ashley said eyes wide.<br />
"What are we going to do?" Nathan asked close to tears.<br />
<br />
The boys quickly thought about it, deciding they would all go home and say they hadn't seen Joel if asked.<br />
"Shouldn't we climb down and make sure he's...... you know, just in case" Xander suggested.<br />
<br />
The boys looked at Joel again. He hadn't moved. To the bunch of ten year olds it could only mean one thing.<br />
"You go check then" Jamie said to Xander.<br />
<br />
It was getting darker by the second and it wasn't an easy climb. Xander decided not to chance it, nobody could have survived such a fall. The boys hurried off back across the fields unaware Joel was beginning to stir. The wind had been knocked out of him. His friends had long since departed when Joel finally managed to extricate himself from the bush. Seeing the darkness of the fields, Joel opted to walk home following the road. Concussed and disorientated, he started walking the wrong way.<br />
<br />
The darkness descended quickly. There were no roadside lights and Joel didn't recognise the country road he staggered along. Cloud cover blocked out the stars on the moonless night. Joel just wanted to lie down and go to sleep but the thought of the beating he would get drove him on. At some point Joel's parents began to worry and his mother went round to see several of his friends. She questioned the boys but all held true to their word, thinking they would get into trouble. Joel's father didn't have a clue where to start looking for the boy. Even if the friends had told Joel's mother about being in the woods it wouldn't have helped. He had long since left and was unwittingly heading for the next village several miles away.<br />
<br />
Eventually Joel saw the beginning of street lights up ahead and thought his ordeal was over. Not a chance! Joel was confused when he saw the street. It wasn't at all familiar. Further and further he walked unable to understand why he didn't recognise the surroundings. In desperation Joel wandered into a pub and became the object of curious stares. Puzzled why the boy was out so late on his own, the landlord asked:<br />
"What do you want boy?"<br />
"Where am I?" Joel asked weakly:<br />
"The Rose and Crown. Are you hurt?" the man asked, concerned Joel didn't know where he was.<br />
"No" Joel answered honestly.<br />
<br />
He was trying to be brave. He wasn't really hurt as such just concussed, but of course he didn't know that. Joel gauged if he was hurt by how much pain he was in and right then he just felt tired not hurt. He felt a little bruised but that was nothing out of the ordinary.<br />
"Where do you live?" the landlord asked.<br />
<br />
Joel told the landlord the street name, but the man didn't recognise it. Feeling really sleepy Joel's head began to nod as he sat in the chair. The landlord telephoned the police. It took a long time before two stern looking policemen walked into the pub. Joel only vaguely registered them telling him off and they too asked where he lived. Fortunately one of them realised Joel was from the neighbouring village, confirmed after a couple of pertinent questions.<br />
<br />
The policemen put Joel in the back of the car and drove him home. Joel's mother went nuts saying how she was worried sick. The story the police gave his father about wandering into a pub late at night did little to ease the boy's plight. Joel knew he was in trouble. When the police left Joel was subjected to an interrogation and quickly told his father what had happened, except for the part about the swing. It wouldn't help his case admitting to doing dangerous stuff and getting hurt because of it, or so Joel believed.<br />
<br />
Being late wasn't a beating offence but being brought home by two policemen didn't look good, and Joel didn't want to make things worse. Lying WAS a beating offence. Joel thought he could still maybe get a lesser punishment for telling the truth. He just told his father he had been to the woods with his friends and as it got dark he got lost. It did sound quite lame.<br />
"What have I told you about lying? Now tell me the truth!" Joel's father demanded sternly.<br />
<br />
There was nothing else Joel could think to say and his silence just served to fuel his father's suspicions he had been up to no good.<br />
"Your mother has been round to all your friends and they said they hadn't seen you" Joel was told.<br />
<br />
The panic in the boy's eyes was almost an admission of guilt as far as Joel's father was concerned, not as the lack of comprehension at the denials of his friends, and the realisation of impending doom because of it. The most severe beatings were meted out when caught lying. Joel received what his father termed as a 'damn good hiding' and was sent to bed without supper. There were no shortage of tears that night as Joel silently cried himself to sleep.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
The summer passed in the blink of an eye and the boys were growing fast. Joel joined the local judo club and with the summer behind them, the boys who attended the Catholic school went to the church run youth club which was an annex to the church. November 5th was approaching and Joel hatched a plan with best friend Scott.<br />
<br />
They would go and get Lawrence out of bed and dress him up as a 'Guy'. It had to be Lawrence. He was a little younger than them and very small. Last year Scott had been used by his older brothers for a similar purpose. They had selfishly kept the bulk of the money collected, giving Scott just a small amount. Consequently Scott and Joel discussed how they would cut the older boys out of the equation and share the money evenly between the three of them. It was usual for boys to make up a dummy or Guy from old clothes stuffed with newspaper and straw. The Guy would be placed on top of a bonfire on November 5th and burnt.<br />
<br />
Making a Guy was okay for the bonfire but collecting pennies, dressing up the smallest boy was far easier. It was the 1st of November and Guy Fawkes or Bonfire Night was on the 5th. They had four days to get as many pennies as possible. The licensed extortion that was Trick or Treat may not have reached the village yet but Penny for the Guy was alive and kicking.<br />
<br />
Lawrence's sister Lizzy answered the door to Scott and Joel. She was a couple of years older than the boys and was just going out. Lizzy was as disinterested in the boys as they were in her, even though she was fast becoming the centre of attention for older boys.<br />
"He's still in bed, go and get the little git up" Lizzy said allowing the boys into the house as she left.<br />
<br />
The parents were at work so the boys saw an opportunity to tease the younger boy. They crept up the stairs silently and saw Lawrence through the half open door to his bedroom.<br />
"Let's throw water on him" Scott whispered.<br />
"No, he might get into trouble if his bed is wet"<br />
"He probably still wets the bed anyway" Scott sniggered but Joel cringed, thinking about his own problem in that area.<br />
"Elephants and ants?" Joel suggested and Scott agreed.<br />
<br />
The two boys crept into the room and as one jumped on their friend.<br />
"Aargh! What the...."<br />
<br />
Scott sat on Lawrence's stomach and hammered out a drum beat on the boy's chest with his fists, whilst Joel sat on the younger boy's ankles and nipped his legs with thumb and fore-finger.<br />
"I give, I give, get off you gits!" pleaded Lawrence.<br />
"Not till you say you smell" Scott demanded.<br />
"You smell!" Lawrence said defiantly and Joel laughed.<br />
"Aw now you're gonna pay" Scott told Lawrence and pounded on the boy's chest with renewed gusto.<br />
<br />
Joel let Lawrence go and turned on Scott. He didn't know the younger boy that well and felt sorry for him. The three boys wrestled around on the bed for another five minutes before flopping back exhausted.<br />
"We've got a job for you" Scott said finally.<br />
"What is it?" Lawrence asked with suspicion.<br />
"Penny for the Guy, you're the Guy" Joel piped up.<br />
"Okayyyy" Lawrence was a little unsure "but why me?"<br />
"You've got a mum, a rabbit, and you're small" Scott said as if that explained everything but even Joel looked confused<br />
"What's a rabbit got to do with it?" he asked.<br />
"And my mum?" Lawrence added.<br />
"We need straw for padding and make-up for the mask, come on get dressed or we won't get a spot.<br />
<br />
The best spot to be was outside the pub at weekends but during the week it was best to be outside a shop. Often the adults would hand over their loose change on leaving the shop, but when leaving the pub they were often more generous and it could reap big rewards, especially if one of the men had too much to drink.<br />
<br />
Lawrence dressed quickly and the three boys went to the bedroom of his parents. They looked through his mother's make-up drawer. Joel and Scott went to work as Lawrence sat back passively. Scott used the red lipstick to make scars on the boy's face. When they were satisfied with their labour the boys went to the back garden to get some straw and started stuffing it into Lawrence's clothes.<br />
"Not in my trousers it's all scratchy!" he complained.<br />
"Stop moaning it'll keep you warm" Scott laughed.<br />
<br />
For a finishing touch Lawrence put a balaclava on and that too was stuffed with straw around the neck and face. They went to the local shop and were relieved to see no other boys had taken their spot. All morning the boys accosted adults going in and out of the shop. It was a tradition and almost without exception the adults would hand over a few pence. The boys did well, the only glitch was when Shaun appeared at the shop. Shaun was Ashley's older brother and a bully. Nobody liked him but it didn't bother Shaun in the slightest. All the younger boys had suffered at his hands at one time or another but none as much as Ashley himself.<br />
<br />
Shaun looked the Guy up and down. He had a malevolent glint in his eye. Lawrence sat motionless as he had whenever someone came. There was no doubt the adults knew it was a boy dressed up as a Guy but at least the boys made an effort.<br />
"That's a good Guy" Shaun said amicably.<br />
"Thanks" Joel muttered hoping the older boy would go away.<br />
"Real life-like" Shaun mused.<br />
<br />
Lawrence didn't move and Shaun put his foot against the boy's groin gradually pushing down. Trying to keep up the charade that he was indeed a Guy, Lawrence bravely remained motionless. Shaun pushed harder.<br />
"Aargh" Lawrence wailed as the pain became unbearable and Shaun laughed.<br />
"Serves you right for cheating" he sneered and went into the shop.<br />
<br />
Shaun just couldn't help himself, he always had to be mean. The boys shared the money out shortly after, then went to meet the others who were playing football. Using the same trick the boys collected more money for the Guy the next day. but a spate of rainy days quite literally put the dampers on things. The money collected wasn't wasted on chocolate or sweets. It went on fireworks which were shared around all the boys. Jamie was unofficial leader of the boys due to his wild older brothers, one of them would buy the fireworks for the younger boys. Sixteen was the legal age to buy fireworks but a tall fourteen year old could generally get them without a problem. The shopkeepers had for generations sold them, and although there was always the odd casualty with misuse, it was looked upon as part of growing up and gaining experience.<br />
<br />
The boys would have a tarpaulin muster whereby they all threw whatever money they had collected onto a cloth. It was counted, knotted, and hauled off to the shop. Most of the boys contributed but the likes of Ashley and Joel rarely had money. With Ashley it was because he came from a big family and was poor. Joel's poverty was a little different. His parents had bought into the government's ideal of purchasing their own home instead of renting.<br />
<br />
It meant both his parents had to work and there was little money left after the mortgage was paid. Like so many other families duped into this scheme they couldn't possibly foresee that soon after, the Iron Lady would remove the ability to continue payments, by closing the mines and selling off the industries to companies unconcerned about the welfare of workers. They would end up owing in interest more than the house was worth. This year Joel had managed to contribute more with collecting Guy money and a bunch of excited nine and ten year olds looked at the fireworks with wide eyes.<br />
<br />
The most common purchases were bangers, Roman Candles and a few rockets. These were shared out and the boys would go to the woods to play war. They would hurl bangers at each other, similar to a grenade, timing the throw was crucial. If it was thrown too early the target boy could pick it up and throw it back, too late and it would explode in the hand. The most common cause of injury was the former. It was always risky throwing one back because the fuse had been fizzing a few seconds already.<br />
<br />
To have a banger explode in the hand resulted in bruising and sometimes the odd burn, but the boys dealt with it. The more timid boys wouldn't pick up a lit firework anyway, so it was only the tougher boys that were most often hurt, Alan had more than his fair share of mishaps. Rockets were no problem, even though the boys would set them off at 30 degree angles instead of vertically as manufacturers intended. As Joel was to find out, Roman Candles were perhaps the most dangerous.<br />
<br />
They would shoot four to six fireballs out of the ends. Ignoring the written warnings on the side, the boys held the Roman Candles and pointed them at each other. Usually the distance involved enabled the target boy to comfortably avoid the flaming missile. The boys had a lot of fun running around the rain dampened woods throwing bangers at each other, and the stock of fireworks were almost exhausted without mishap when Joel came rushing into a clearing. His heart sank. He was faced by three of the boys from the hostile army and one had just lit a Roman Candle. Joel turned and ran but knew he was in trouble. Joel was too close to put any suitable distance between him and his foes.<br />
<br />
The first shot hit Joel square in the back and the fireball burnt itself out on his jumper. As soon as it hit and his back started heating up, Joel pulled his jumper, shirt, and vest off in one swift motion. It wasn't fast enough and Joel's back was burning. It hurt. Hurt bad, but Joel was more concerned with the problem he would have when his parents saw the holes in his clothes. Alan looked at the big red mark in the middle of Joel's back and lightly ran a finger around the circular burn.<br />
"Damn, you better get that looked at"<br />
"S'alright" Joel said as he tried to rub the black marks off his shirt and vest.<br />
<br />
It just made it worse and the black marks became holes. On the surface Joel was calm but inside his stomach was churning and he had to fight back the tears. Joel didn't go home straight away, preferring to watch the remaining rockets and delay the inevitable. He was just glad he was staying with his grandmother. At least it would just be a couple of clouts round the head with a wooden spoon instead of the dreaded belt.<br />
"S'pose that makes it my turn" Alan laughed trying to cheer Joel up.<br />
<br />
He didn't realise how prophetic his words were to prove. Nor how soon they were to come to fruition. It was the last - and biggest - rocket that was the cause. The boys decided to set it off as intended because very often the ones set off at an angle would crash into trees and spoil the effect. The boys found a gap in the tree branches overhead. They pushed the piece of pipe they had into the ground to support the rocket. The stick on the end of the rocket was fatter than the others and had to be forced into the tube. They lit the firework and watched. The rocket started fizzing away but wasn't taking off, the stick wedged firmly in the tube. For several seconds the boys watched the rocket trying to take off. It was as if they all asked themselves the same question at the same time. What happens when the rocket gets into the sky? As one the boys turned and ran.<br />
<br />
The rocket exploded in a shower of sparks and stars. Alan's words may have been for Joel's benefit and in jest but one star went into his thick curly blond hair and smouldered.<br />
"Aargh, aargh" he yelled and the other boys ran over to him slapping his head.<br />
<br />
He was quite fortunate that only a small portion of his hair singed, thanks largely to the speedy reaction of the other boys. Joel and Alan walked back in silence licking their wounds as the other boys chattered animatedly. They were the focal point and heroes of the moment. It didn't make Joel feel any better as he walked back shivering, unable to put his clothes back on now his back had really started to smart.<br />
<br />
Fortunately he was spared the wooden spoon treatment, possibly because of the nasty weeping wound in the middle of his back, but out came the dreaded TCP and he howled in pain as his grandmother dabbed it on.<br />
"Don't be such a baby" his grandmother chided as he squealed, sympathy was in short supply when injuries were a result of stupid behaviour.<br />
<br />
Alan had to have his head shaved to even his hair up and he looked odd without his long blond curls. At least they had a whole year to forget how dangerous irresponsible use of fireworks could be.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
The Odeon was the entertainment centre of the village. It was a cinema, bingo hall, theatre, and community centre all rolled into one. As a cinema it only opened twice a week, on a Tuesday evening and a Sunday matinee. There was one other occasion on Saturday mornings and it was then the cinema was packed for the only time during the week. Saturday morning pictures were for the kids of the village.<br />
<br />
Joel and Ashley never had the money to go even though the prices were just pence. It didn't matter because Jamie and Mattie would sneak down behind the curtain and open the fire escape door to let them in. Ashley had to wear his balaclava inside because even in amongst the scores of kids his flaming red hair stuck out like a sore thumb and a floor manager patrolled the aisles.<br />
<br />
The 'pictures' would go on for about three hours, and were a saviour for many parents. It allowed them to go shopping, safe in the knowledge the kids weren't getting up to mischief, or having lots of friends in the house while they were out. There were one or two five-minute information films scattered in amongst a plethora of Looney Tunes, and old black and white films from the cinema archives. Lord of the Flies seemed to be on once every month and Laurel and Hardy were well worn. The cinema didn't have the revenue to show the modern films, a trip into the neighbouring town was needed to see a new release.<br />
<br />
As the Ovaltiney song came on signalling the end of the show, the kids would rush out of the exits and to the pub across the road, piling into the off-sales area where the landlord opened a box of salted peanuts. He would throw the small bags out to the children who eagerly tried to catch them. It was a kindness the kids took for granted and they never went back to thank the man, much to their shame.<br />
<br />
Even inside the pictures there was a hierarchy and regular seats were unofficially reserved. As the older boys stopped going to the cinema, the younger ones gradually moved to the back where it was considered the best place to be. The void left by the older boys who went to big school after summer meant a race to get the best seats, as happened every year. It was then Joel and his friends came into conflict with the boys from the other end of the village. It was all over one seat which overlapped the two groups. There had always been a rivalry between the two sets of boys who once a week played football against each other. On occasion scuffles broke out, but it was never serious. Joel had just sat down when a boy approached him.<br />
"That's Ozzie's seat" the boy warned.<br />
"I don't see his name on it" Joel said looking around mockingly.<br />
"You better move" the boy advised.<br />
"Or what?"<br />
<br />
Joel wasn't bothered, he was now one of the older boys who went to Saturday morning pictures so didn't see any reason to fear anyone, even though he didn't know who this Ozzie boy was. He soon found out. A blond headed boy approached him as the other boy made way and Joel looked at him. The boy was about the same height as Joel but thicker set. Ozzie looked quite angelic on the surface but looks could deceive, as Joel found out to his cost on many occasions. He told Joel to move and swore at him for effect.<br />
"Make me" Joel responded annoyed at the boy's rudeness.<br />
<br />
Ozzie grabbed Joel and hauled him to his feet as boys scattered in every direction. Ozzie's first hit split Joel's lip, drawing blood. Joel went mad, fists flailing in every direction, but none found their target as Ozzie easily parried then countered with another solid hit of his own. Ozzie may only have been the same age as Joel but his father was a boxer and had passed his knowledge on to his son. Joel had recently started taking judo lessons but for the first few months all he was taught was how to fall over.<br />
<br />
Blow after blow found their target, but Joel was used to pain and could take a knock. Ozzie was getting a little worried. He had hit the boy numerous times with some of his best shots, yet still Joel kept coming back and Ozzie was beginning to have doubts. A moment of hesitancy and Joel leapt on his protagonist, both boys going over the seats into the next row. Ozzie yelped in pain as Joel landed on top of him. He may have been hurt but Ozzie was no quitter and even though Joel had him in a headlock he continued to fight. Four times Ozzie pushed Joel's head into the floor. Joel wasn't letting go of Ozzie's neck and squeezed harder and harder.<br />
"I give, I give" howled Ozzie but Joel didn't ease up straight away.<br />
"Whose seat is it?" he demanded.<br />
"Yours, it's your seat"<br />
"And that's the end of it?"<br />
"Yes, yes"<br />
<br />
Joel let the boy go relieved at the outcome. Ozzie trudged off rubbing his neck and holding the small of his back. There wasn't a visible mark on Ozzie, although his back might have had one where he landed awkwardly, but Joel had blood running from one nostril, a fat lip, swelling under one eye that would turn black the next day, and an egg sized lump on his forehead. He sat back in the seat victorious and it all seemed worthwhile.<br />
"I knew you would win" Jamie said.<br />
<br />
It was then Joel was told about Ozzie and his boxer father. Joel wished he had known beforehand, he might have given up the seat willingly. Nah!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
Over the year ahead things began to change for the boys. Some changes were more significant than others. The judo club he joined was to help Joel significantly, particularly in the next few years. The confidence it gave served him well straight away. Gardening had given Joel a strength which belied his stature and judo was the perfect discipline to suit his rough-and-tumble style of self-defence.<br />
<br />
Jake was a bully. In their idyllic little school he was the only one and as was to be a trait of Joel's, he became a deadly enemy of the bully. Jake had been Joel's second fight and bar two, his next thirty as well. Give Jake credit for trying, he never won one, but it didn't stop him starting another. Joel lost count how many times they fought in the end, but it was all too frequently. To make matters worse the boys lived near each other and the conflict began from an early age.<br />
<br />
<i>Joel's first fight was at the tender age of six years old. A boy three years his senior started pushing him in the chest. Every time Joel stood back up the boy would push him over again. Reduced to tears, Joel ran home.</i><br />
<i>"What's the matter love?" his mother soothed.</i><br />
<i>"A-big-boy-keeps-pushing-me" Joel blurted out between sobs.</i><br />
<i>"Don't fuss the boy! Are you trying to raise a sissy" growled Joel's father.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>He looked out of the window and saw several boys playing rough on the green opposite.</i><br />
<i>"Which one was it?" Joel's father asked.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>Joel pointed to the boy in question and his father looked then went to the cupboard where the dreaded belt hung. Joel's father picked it up and placed it on the kitchen table.</i><br />
<i>"Now get back out there and hit him or I'll give you something to cry for"</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>Panic was in Joel's tear-stained eyes and he looked to his mother for help, but she turned away and busied herself at the sink. Joel was scared but one look at the belt on the table made up his mind for him. His father didn't make idle threats and Joel was in no doubt what would happen if he didn't do as he was told. As he approached the boys, the one who had been pushing Joel saw him coming and laughed.</i><br />
<i>"What's up runt want some more or you gonna go crying to mama again?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>Joel knotted his little fist into a ball, closed his eyes and swung with all his might. More by luck than judgement, Joel caught the boy square on the nose and heard a satisfying crack. A split second later and blood gushed from both of the boy's nostrils. He turned and ran home in tears. Joel went back to the house a little nervously. The first thing he noticed was that the belt had been put away.</i><br />
<i>"I don't want to see you crying again. If you want to cry you go to your room and do it" his father said mildly.</i><br />
<i>"Yes dad"</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>Just when Joel thought it was the end of the matter there was a knock at the door. It was the boy he had hit, holding a blood soaked hanky over his nose. The boy's father was with him and looking angry.</i><br />
<i>"Yes?" Joel's father asked calmly.</i><br />
<i>"Your son has broken my son's nose" the boy's father said angrily.</i><br />
<i>"Boys will be boys" Mr. Phillips stated matter-of-factly.</i><br />
<i>"It's not on given the difference in ages, what are you going to do about it?"</i><br />
<i>"Hmm, I think we better hear my son's side of it. Joel come here"</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>Joel thought he was in trouble again. He had heard the boy's father say about a broken nose and was fearful once more. Joel's father had realised something from the other father's words. The parents knew each other and their families. The boy's father had assumed it was Joel's older brother who had hit his son. When Joel appeared in the doorway the man looked shocked, Joel's father smiled inwardly..</i><br />
<i>"Why did you hit this boy?" he asked mildly.</i><br />
<i>"He kept pushing me over" Joel said, panic in his eyes.</i><br />
<i>"Him?" the boy's father demanded from his son who looked at the floor and nodded, still holding the hanky to his nose.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>The man grabbed the boy roughly and practically dragged him to the gate. Joel's father watched them depart and put a hand on Joel's shoulder. Joel looked up at his father who continued to watch the departing duo. It was all a little confusing. It was another two years before Joel and Jake clashed for the first time.</i><br />
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Not once did Jake get the better of Joel in the respect he was always the one who ran off. However if the boys were put side by side after a fight, anybody would swear Jake had won such was the damage he inflicted. Only Joel's stubborn streak saw him through on many occasions, and once or twice Jake hadn't realised how close he had been to winning. Their first clash happened right outside Joel's front gate, and unknown to the boys they had an audience. Joel's father, mother, and older brother watched from the kitchen window as the boys rolled around on the concrete path.<br />
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Jake was bigger and heavier but had never handled a spade or scuttle full of coal to hone his muscles. Joel managed in the end to get Jake in a headlock and in the manner which was to become customary of Joel's primary school bouts, he choked his opponent into submission. Jake ran home crying and Joel went indoors to a hero's welcome, his father handing him a big shiny fifty pence piece. Both his mother and brother thought it was a mismatch when the fight started and wanted to intervene.<br />
"Leave them be!" Joel's father growled and the pair watched anxiously.<br />
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The problem Joel had was he couldn't stand seeing somebody being upset by another person for no other reason than to be mean. Unfortunately for Jake he couldn't help himself. A girl named Jane came from the scruffiest family in the village. Her clothes were always dirty, her hair matted, and she smelled bad. She was teased often by a lot of the kids but it was generally just odd comments, Jake always went too far. Having reduced the girl to tears for the umpteenth time Joel stepped in.<br />
"Leave her alone Jake"<br />
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Jake swore at Joel, telling him to mind his own business. Joel jumped on Jake and the other kids gathered round as they rolled around the playground.<br />
"Fight, fight, fight, fight" the others chanted.<br />
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It alerted the nuns and for once the fight didn't reach a conclusion as they stepped in and pulled the boys apart. Both boys received four raps across the knuckles with a ruler, but were unrepentant and arranged to meet outside the school gates afterwards to settle the matter. Jamie, Ashley, Alan, and Jane gathered to watch and the fight resumed. As the boys fought a man saw them.<br />
"Leave him alone, fight one on one" the man barked thinking all the boys were attacking Jake.<br />
"It is one on one" Joel protested and Jake taking advantage of the distraction hit Joel in the mouth, rattling his teeth.<br />
"Go on lad" the man called encouraging Jake.<br />
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Having lost the momentum it took Joel a little while to regain control and in spite of the support from the man it was Jake who ran off in tears. The man looked disgusted.<br />
"Hope you're proud you little hooligans" he spat.<br />
"Please mister, he started it. He was picking on Jane" Joel said feeling upset he was being accused of bullying.<br />
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The man didn't answer and stormed off. It wasn't the only problem. Joel had an admirer after the incident. He was Jane's knight in shining armour and he had to work hard to avoid her. On the plus side it made everybody else think twice before being mean to her again.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-61746550389508473542019-01-18T13:06:00.001+00:002020-11-29T17:29:45.559+00:00ADC.03<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jZvsGnxaEq0AP9bi0-wejcqrhhzi7YdLTf_QztOZLB6FMsYHjaflSsLGxVbuLAu_3uH545LubpEujbgHo3k5zjP1ISZe6HYvOfIR2jL8OARygaaVVtVGuaJ5FsUXBX9vn4WbeEyItfA7/s1600/front3.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jZvsGnxaEq0AP9bi0-wejcqrhhzi7YdLTf_QztOZLB6FMsYHjaflSsLGxVbuLAu_3uH545LubpEujbgHo3k5zjP1ISZe6HYvOfIR2jL8OARygaaVVtVGuaJ5FsUXBX9vn4WbeEyItfA7/s1600/front3.png" /></a><b><u><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">3.Wild Boys</span></u></b><br />
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<i><b><span style="color: #741b47;">'William Golding aired a literary hypothesis in 'Lord of the Flies'. He believed boys revert to a primeval state when left to their own devices. The only criticism I have with that ideal is one my father drummed into me.... 'circumstances alters cases'. Had the village boys been castaways I believe we would have had a relatively peaceful, thriving encampment; but we were all friends. However, had the boys I met at school - or indeed any large group of boys thrust together by circumstance - been castaways, there would have been division, chaos, and most likely.... war!' - jp</span></b></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the main, the boys of the village were good natured but there was no doubt in their minds that Steve was a bad ‘un. As time went on most tried to stay away from him. It wasn’t out of any desire to please their parents, who all told their kids to keep away from Steve, it was simply because of some of the things he did. Vandalism was high on Steve’s agenda and he would rarely pass up an opportunity to be destructive. As wild as some of the boys could be, they had a sense of honour and bore no ill-will. There were the usual pranks and mischief, but then there was what is termed today anti-social behaviour.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The boys weren’t stupid and although the thin dividing line was sometimes blurred, they all knew without exception which was which. It was fun throwing stones through the remaining windows of an old abandoned warehouse but quite different to a premises still being used. Houses were strictly off limits but Steve didn’t care. More than that, Steve actually thrived on shocking friends and adults alike. It soon reached the stage where most boys would avoid him. When Steve went calling for the other boys they would be out, in bed, busy, grounded, or some other excuse. Only Joel answered the door to him. Joel’s parents warned him away from Steve but ultimately they left the decision to Joel himself. Knowing other boys wouldn’t hang out with Steve made Joel feel obliged to. He felt a little sorry for the older boy who was becoming ever more the outcast. Joel had no idea then his empathy might be a premonition of what he himself would experience.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">One day Steve called for Joel. He was excited having found a new place to scrump apples. Scrumping was a popular pastime with all the boys and Joel couldn’t see how Steve could cause any trouble doing that, if he overlooked the fact they would be on private property stealing apples. Even after their brush with the law the boys from the village didn't consider a trip through an orchard stealing. Sometimes they were given permission to take 'windfall' apples which would only rot anyway.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">At least Steve wouldn’t be breaking any windows or anything; he did like those breaking noises. Most of the regular haunts for scrumping were known to the boys, so the prospect of somewhere new was always exciting. As it turned out Joel was a little disappointed because the new place only grew cooking apples which were sour. The boys still ate one or two, convincing themselves they enjoyed them.</span><br />
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<i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Scrumping did have hidden dangers. Joel and Ashley walked past a house one day and saw an apple tree in the garden. Seeing no obvious signs of life from the house, they nipped in a grabbed an apple each. As they dashed back out the gate they looked round and all was quiet. They walked down the street munching on their ill-gotten gains not realising they had indeed been seen. The owner dashed after them, put his hand between the boys' faces and slapped Joel with his palm, then back-handed Ashley.<br />"Enjoy your apples lads" the man muttered and went back to his house.<br /><br />Joel had a rosy red cheek but the back-hander split Ashley’s lip, drawing blood. In this day and age the man would have found himself in court on assault charges and possibly facing a prison sentence, but neither Joel nor Ashley even considered telling their parents what happened. It wouldn’t have been the only slap they received.</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The new scrumping place had its own hidden danger. Joel and Steve were up a tree when a large Alsatian dog came running to the bottom of the tree. It saw the boys and started barking. Steve began pelting it with apples making the dog even angrier. Joel was worried the barking would alert someone, but there was no escape without confronting the dog. The dog was more intent on Steve who was still throwing apples and shouting obscenities. He looked almost possessed. The dog was directly below him so Steve unzipped his fly and urinated on it. The barking became more frenzied and did indeed alert the owner who finally came to investigate. He was carrying a bamboo stick and Joel feared the worst.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The owner took hold of the dog’s collar and ordered the boys down from the tree. He escorted them out of the small orchard, alternately swiping each boy’s backside with the bamboo stick all the way to the gate. The boys never went back again. In spite of the trouble Steve caused, Joel still hung around with him until something else he did was the last straw. Joel may not have been as devout a Catholic as other kids with deeply religious parents, but the school and serving on the altar did make him a little respectful. Steve however wasn’t a Catholic and had no religious allegiance. One day when walking through a graveyard Steve saw a big stone cross. He stood one side of it and started to push.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Steve, I don’t think you should do that"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Steve was a year older than Joel. He didn’t listen to boys his own age and older, so he certainly wasn’t going to listen to Joel and he pushed harder. The cross began to lean then fell over, smashing to pieces as it hit the ground. The act of vandalism was in the local paper with a picture of the shattered cross. It wasn’t even a Catholic church but it still made Joel feel bad. When Steve came round to boast about it, Joel’s father called up to him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Steve’s here"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Tell him I’m busy" Joel called back curtly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Joel’s father shrugged at Steve who frowned and went away muttering.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><br /></span><br />
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It was a good summer for weather and the boys were becoming more adventurous. The additional freedom afforded by the long daylight hours, coupled with a wanderlust borne of living in a sheltered little village, saw the boys going further afield. They were actually following in the footsteps of older boys and siblings. This bunch of lads were not the first batch from the village to spread their wings. The boys knew where to go and how to bunk the trains to get there. They would board the middle of the train and keep watch both ways to see where the ticket collector was. When he was spotted, the boys would hurry to the opposite end of the train, knowing the ticket collector didn't have time to check all the passengers before the next stop.<br />
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The two villages were close together by train, and then the main town was a similar distance from the closest village. At the next village the boys would get off one train before the ticket collector reached them, then wait for the next one half an hour later and do the same. It took the boys nearly an hour to do what was a fifteen minute journey but it was free, even on occasions like today when they had the money to pay.<br />
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The boys had time to kill but hurried along to a level crossing. They crossed the track and carried on a little way. Further up they quickly climbed the trees. The boys swung about like monkeys on the branches that overhung the track.<br />
"Here it comes" Ashley shouted and the boys stopped swinging.<br />
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They climbed out on thick branches above the track and looked down waiting. The boys held tight as the train coming from town passed just a few feet beneath them. Their whoops and hoots drowned out by the noise of the train. When it had passed the boys swung around again for a while, then went back to the station to wait for their train.<br />
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The town had many attractions. The beach and cliffs among them. On rare occasions like today, a trip to the cinema to see the latest release was a special treat. Most parents thought the old movies in the village cinema adequate. There was a big fairground but that was also deemed a waste of money by parents. It didn't stop the boys though. They would wait outside the gates hoping to cadge wristbands. Tokens for single rides could be bought or alternately day-wristbands which allowed unlimited rides all day. It allowed people to leave the park and return throughout the day. Many families would start leaving around four or five o clock and the boys would ask everyone who came out of the gate if they had finished with their wristbands. Some people were rude, but there was never a time the boys failed to get one each.<br />
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The cinema in town was another treat. Unlike the one in the village, it showed all the new films. The experience may have been a visual treat for Joel but he didn't share his friends fever pitch excitement. To him the highlight was the popcorn the boys bought with the money that should have gone on train fare. There were no worries about the village boys throwing popcorn at people, every morsel was savoured and not a crumb was wasted. Using the same method with the trains on the return journey made Joel late home and resulted in no dinner, but it was worth it.<br />
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Boredom was unheard of in the boys' busy summer schedule. They found it hard to fit everything in. It was a time of magic and wonder with endless opportunities to play and explore. The penalties could be harsh but the accompanying security and respect from such an environment were priceless for the community spirit. Coal miners were a hardy breed and even with improvements since the war, it was no place for wimps. For most of the boys of the village the colliery was the only chance they had of employment, and fathers prepared their sons for this man's world from an early age.<br />
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The boys got up to things that would have made even these parents cringe. Perhaps the most dangerous thing they did was collecting seagull eggs. As ever Ashley did it first, it was almost like he had a death wish, or perhaps he was just oblivious to the dangers. The cliffs were more than high enough to make a fall fatal and the boys laid on their stomachs looking over. There were seagull nests all over the cliffs and the nearest ones were about fifteen feet down.<br />
"Bet you can't get an egg" Jamie challenged Ashley.<br />
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The other boys laughed, there was no way anybody was going to climb down the vertical face of the cliff to get the eggs. It made them feel funny just looking over the edge. Ashley swung his legs over and reached with a toe for a solid hold. He found one and then with remarkable ease scampered down the cliff, put an egg in his mouth, and climbed back up again.<br />
"Your turn" he declared triumphantly.<br />
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With only a momentary pause Jamie swung his legs over and climbed down to another nest. He wasn't as fast as Ashley, but Jamie managed the feat with equal ease. Nobody challenged Joel but he knew it would be expected of him, especially as Ashley had done it. Joel's heart was in his mouth as he swung his legs over. He was ultra-careful and took twice as long as Jamie, but like the others came back unscathed, even though at one point he swore he could actually feel his fingernails growing.<br />
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Alan looked at the three 'heroes' and made up his mind to get an egg as well. Joel felt almost as fearful for Alan as he had been for himself. He contented himself with the thought Alan had been hurt last so it must be Joel's turn, and he had already survived. Alan's foot slipped at one point causing all the boys' hearts to miss a beat, otherwise he was faster than Jamie. From those first tentative steps the boys were soon harvesting the eggs. None of the other boys would try to get one, not even Steve who was just as reckless as Ashley in some ways. The only near miss came one time when Ashley snatched an egg and an angry seagull started attacking him. He managed to scramble back up the cliff and the other boys shooed it away.<br />
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The seaside became a popular place to camp with many hidden coves. From the top of the cliff they watched the fishing boats coming in and went to meet them, curious to see what had been caught. The fishermen were a jolly bunch and were happy chatting to the boys.<br />
"Got a spare fish mister please?"<br />
"Got a spare crab, a little one mister please?"<br />
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The boys soon learnt which boats had shell-fish and which had wet fish.<br />
"Got a spare little lobster please mister?" Joel always was ambitious.<br />
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His mother had one at a restaurant once and told Joel is was like a giant prawn. Joel loved prawns. Prawn cocktail was a special treat usually as a starter to Christmas dinner, or at weddings (and funerals).<br />
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The boys soon learned to follow the tide out from the bottom of the cliff and they found cockles and mussels. On a real good day the boys would feast on hard boiled gull eggs, cockles, mussels, mackerel (sometimes herring or whiting) and crab. They didn't know about the dead-man's fingers in a crab until a fisherman told them. They had eaten several by then but nobody became ill. The boys liked the claws best and whoever managed to scrounge the crab had first pick.<br />
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With all the gathered booty the boys would start a small camp-fire, Mattie had an army canteen his father gave him. It comprised of three metal cooking pots, a mug, knife, fork, spoon, and tin-opener, all folding away into one easy to carry container clipped on Mattie's belt. They could always rely on Scott for matches. Then one day it happened!<br />
"Got a spare lobster please mister, a massive one" Joel said finally tiring of the relentless question he had continued to ask fruitlessly.<br />
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The fisherman roared with laughter.<br />
"Raised our expectations have we?" he asked jovially.<br />
"Well, I've never had one and if I do get one I'll probably never get another so I might as well have a big 'un" Joel rattled off without taking a breath.<br />
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The fisherman laughed again.<br />
"If I give you a lobster, just this once, do you promise never to ask for one again?"<br />
"I promise I'll never ask YOU for one again" Joel said earnestly after thinking a moment and brought more laughter from the fisherman.<br />
"That's good enough for me" he said and went back the crates picking out a good size lobster.<br />
"Tell your mum to put it in boiling water for twenty minutes" he said handing it to Joel.<br />
"She ain't getting it, she's had one, I'm eating this!" Joel said adamantly "Me and my mates anyway"<br />
"I suppose you'll cook it on a camp fire" the fisherman said barely able to keep the mirth out of his voice.<br />
"Yep!" Joel said proudly.<br />
"Get away wi' ya" the fisherman laughed and turned back to his catch.<br />
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Joel liked asking for a lobster because even though he was unsuccessful he was often compensated with a crab. Sometimes the boys found their own crabs in the rock pools left by the departing tide, but they were usually too small to eat. The boys dined on lobster that day and Joel had the biggest claw he had ever seen, as well a good chunk of tail. All agreed it was the best thing they had ever tasted.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">* * * * *</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Patrick was as an exception, his parents had gone into religious overdrive. He was a timid boy who feared even farting in church would send him straight to Hell. Joel felt a little sorry for him and made friends with Patrick, despite everyone else calling him a freak. To make matters worse Patrick cried a lot and even a little bit was too much for the boys of the village, boys simply didn't cry. Joel blamed Patrick's parents, sure the boy would have been a lot more popular in school had he been allowed the same freedom as the others. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">His parents tried hard to keep him away from the corrupting influence of other children, little realising they were creating a monster. The other boys had long since given up with Patrick. What was the point of a friend who was never allowed out of his garden? On Patrick’s eleventh birthday his parents allowed him a party, at home of course, but it just served to confirm their fears that other kids were a bad influence on the boy.<br /><br />Patrick invited Joel first, and was allowed to invite another five boys. There were strictly no girls by order of Patrick’s parents, not that any would have been invited anyway, except possibly Jodie. Patrick asked Joel whom he should invite and quite naturally Joel suggested his own friends. Jamie, Ashley, Alan, Scott and Terry were decided on, which upset Jodie no end.<br /><br />At the party the stifling influence of Patrick’s parents was irritating the boys. ‘Don’t make a mess’, ‘don’t do this’, ‘don’t do that’. It wasn't like any party the other boys were used to and inevitably Ashley and Scott began to misbehave. The boys were getting bored. Musical Chairs and Pass the Parcel may have been okay for six or seven year olds but the boys were eleven now and didn’t want to play baby games, especially under the strict guidance of adults.<br /><br />When the boys gave Patrick the birthday bumps his mother looked on, frowning in concern her baby might get hurt. Boys were boys and the village boys in general were far more robust and daring than their townie counterparts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Not too high" Patrick's mother fussed as the boys counted the bumps.<br /><br />The first sign of trouble was when Scott ‘pantsed’ Patrick. Patrick was wearing 'trackies' with an elasticated waistband. Scott crept up behind the birthday boy yanking his trackies down. It was common prank and all the boys at some point had suffered the indignity of having their underpants exposed for the world to see. Unfortunately Scott had picked an inopportune moment as Patrick's mother just came back into the room. To make matters worse, when he grabbed Patrick's trackies he had unwittingly taken hold of the boxer shorts underneath. In one swift motion Patrick's pants and boxer shorts were yanked down to his knees. It was unexpected and the boys laughed heartily as a red-faced Patrick quickly pulled his pants back up.<br /><br />Patrick's mother looked visibly shaken. The horrified expression on her face surprised the boys. It was almost as though she would be struck blind. Nudity was a definite no-no in Patrick's house. For Patrick to be an only child in a strict Catholic household had to be an indication on how his parents thought about certain things.<br /><br />Things went downhill from there. Patrick's father was rapidly losing patience with the boys and finding it harder to hide his feelings. On a subconscious level the irritation of Patrick's parents was being transferred to the boys. They were naturally boisterous but now they were looking for a reaction. When Ashley initiated a food fight the party came to an abrupt halt. It was actually quite restrained as food fights went, but still a step too far for Patrick's parents. The boys were glad the party ended prematurely. Anytime it looked like they would have some fun, stern words would nip it in the bud.<br />"Patrick’s a drip" Jamie muttered as he walked home with Ashley and Joel.<br />"He’s a girl" Ashley added with disgust.<br />"It’s not his fault, it’s his mum and dad, they’re weird" Joel said trying to defend his school-friend.<br /><br />What was supposed to be the best day of Patrick’s life, had ended with the boy reduced to tears. How could his parents not see the harm they were doing. Most of the boys had crosses to bear of one sort or another, but none ever complained about their treatment. It was accepted as the norm and the boys were far more interested in getting on with their lives, instead of bemoaning their personal circumstances. Of all the boys, Alan was most envied for his home life. He was the 'baby' of the family and with two troublesome brothers, Alan slipped under the radar. He was never known to be beaten by his father.<br /><br />Fate may have been kind to Alan at home but made up for it in other ways. An old saying states ‘seven scars maketh a man’ but if that was true Alan and Joel could have made half a battalion between them. The two boys more or less took it in turns to get hurt and it was spooky the way it happened, but certainly not contrived. In general Alan’s injuries were worse, Joel hadn’t broken any bones but Alan had a catalogue of them. He had broken both legs (at different times), an arm, wrist, three fingers, and a collar bone. That was without counting the cuts and bruises. Very often it was as a result of bizarre accidents and usually caused by a third party, but one occasion shortly after his eleventh birthday was Alan's own stupid fault. Given the nature of his friends he was asking for trouble, and was duly obliged.<br /><br />Ear piercings were fashionable with boys from the towns and cities, but in the village any boys with an earring would be regarded with suspicion in this man’s world. Both Alan’s brothers had earrings and he complained when he wasn’t allowed one. One day the boys put their heads together and decided to give Alan what he wanted. It might have been what Alan wanted, but it didn't quite happen as he expected. The boys thought they had it all organised in their childish naivety and set out their tools. Two ice cubes to put either side of the ear lobe to numb it, and a darning needle to pierce the ear with. Things started to go wrong almost immediately. The ice cubes had little effect in the numbing department, judging by the screeches coming from Alan when Jamie tried to push the needle through his lobe. Alan was thicker skinned than thought and Jamie couldn't get the needle to pierce the ear.<br /><br />Two more ice cubes were put on Alan’s ear whilst Ashley fetched a hammer to hit the needle with. Alan lay across the kitchen table and put his head down. The boys couldn’t rest the lobe flat against the table so Xander picked up a small piece of wood from outside. With the wood strategically placed on the table and Alan’s ear lobe now resting against an immovable object, Jamie positioned the needle again.<br />"Do it quickly please" Alan pleaded, fear in his voice.<br /><br />Deciding one good hit would be better than several little ones Jamie took the hammer and belted the needle hard. It went straight through the lobe and deep into the wood behind it. The boys cheered but Alan jumped up and ran around the room screeching even louder than before. The piece of wood was pinned to his ear by the needle. The only person not laughing hysterically was Alan who continued running around the room howling.<br />"Get it out, get it out!" he yelled.<br />"Come here and stop blubbing" Ashley ordered.<br /><br />He tried to pull the needle out but it wouldn't budge.<br />"Try pulling the wood not the needle" Joel suggested.<br />"You do it then" Ashley said.<br /><br />Joel tried but the needle went deeper into Alan’s ear lobe. Alan’s screeches were going right through Joel and he let go. It was all too much for poor Nathan who went white as a sheet and had to go outside. Jamie saw the needle being pulled through the ear by the wood.<br />"Let me try"<br /><br />Jamie grabbed the wood and pulled hard. The needle came halfway through the ear lobe then parted company with the wood. Now Alan was running round the room with the needle sticking out of his ear. The boys cornered him and pulled the needle back through. Jamie picked up the ear-ring Alan had taken from his mother’s jewellery drawer.<br />"Here and I’ll put this in for you"<br />Alan swore at Jamie angrily, he’d had enough.<br />"You’ve got to put it in or the hole will close up" Ashley told him.<br />"I don’t care" Alan said adamantly.<br /><br />The boys left Alan alone but a couple of days later as if to add insult to injury, his ear lobe went septic. The needle hadn’t been sterilised. Ashley took great delight in squeezing the pus out of the swollen lobe, providing even more amusement to all but Alan and the queasy Nathan. Alan's parents relented and he was eventually allowed his piercing after his ear healed up. It was possibly because of his pains at the botched DIY attempt, or maybe just to stop Alan damaging himself further.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">With several of the boys working now paper rounds, there was money to spend. It wasn’t sufficient to buy expensive items like computers, which had evolved to the stage where they were no longer just a dot moving across a screen to be hit with a paddle. Spectrums, Commodores, and Mega-drives were fast becoming obsessions with town and city boys, but the villagers were yet to succumb to this new menace that threatened the welfare of children. Instead the boys from the village spent their hard earned cash on less harmful things, like pellet guns. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It seems ridiculous on the face of it, and many would argue which was healthier. Sitting for hours in a darkened room shooting at a virtual foe, or running around the woods taking pot-shots at each other with guns unable to pierce skin, </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The boys initially hunted with the guns but soon realised they were ineffectual. It seemed quite natural to shoot each other instead. They had played war games for as long as they could remember, it was no big deal. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The boys went back to the more tried and tested ways of stalking other prey. The closest they had come to killing anything with the all but useless weapons was when Ashley fluked a head-shot on a pheasant. It dazed the bird to a degree but didn’t prevent it from scuttling away through undergrowth, clearly in distress.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Kill it! KILL IT!!" screamed Nathan as the boys gave chase.<br /><br />No, it wasn’t blood-lust that prompted Nathan’s screams, it was the fact the thought the pheasant was suffering. Although the boys hunted animals and birds, it was purely for food, and they wouldn’t kill anything they weren’t going to eat. Rats, wasps, and flies being acceptable exceptions. Even bees were off-limits. The boys managed to corner the pheasant and Mattie wrung its neck bringing relief to the bird and a tearful Nathan alike.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">* * * * *</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">One food source which had so far eluded the boys was rabbit. The surrounding countryside was alive with them but they were impossible for the boys to chase down. All that changed when some of the boys started keeping ferrets. Mattie was the first to get one and that might have been the end of it. When Jamie then Xander both bought a ferret as well, it left Joel no choice. He had to get one. Joel didn’t even like the animals, they were far too vicious. Xander was bitten on the finger and the ferret wouldn’t let go. Xander’s father had to prise the ferret's jaws apart to free the boy.<br />"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow" Xander kept repeating as his friends rolled around on the ground holding their stomachs.<br /><br />It looked funny when it was someone else on the receiving end but it certainly made Joel wary of the animals. The boys soon learnt how to pick a ferret up. They had to be quick, grabbing the ferret round the shoulders and neck so it couldn’t turn and bite. Joel hit lucky when he bought his 'ferret' from Hawkeye, a local man who kept birds of prey. He had a special licence allowing him to do so and had four birds. Two falcons, a kestrel, and a huge owl. He also bred ferrets, rabbits, and mice. Joel was told he could buy a ferret off the man and went round to get one.<br />"Have you got one that doesn’t bite?" Joel asked and the man laughed.<br />"They all bite, that’s what they do, they’re predators"<br />"Well have you got one that don’t bite as much?"<br /><br />The man scratched his chin and regarded the worried looking boy with an amused expression.<br />"There is one" he said finally "but it’s not a ferret it’s a weasel<br /><br />Joel nodded. He didn’t know what the difference was but if it didn’t bite him he didn’t care. The man went to a hutch and pulled out the weasel. At first glance Joel was unsure. It was bigger than the ferrets the other boys had, but Joel liked the colouration. The ferrets were all white apart from the yellowish tinge on parts of their coat. The weasel had brown and black colouring, breaking up the creamy white between. Hawkeye offered the animal to Joel to hold and he took it nervously.<br />"He’s a big daft sod, I doubt he’ll bite you"<br /><br />The weasel appeared to like being held and Joel stroked it with growing confidence. Joel was impressed and handed over his money.<br />"What’s he called?" Joel asked and Hawkeye laughed again.<br />"Call him what you like he won’t come"<br /><br />Joel carried the animal home deciding to call him Zorro as he was reminded of the masked hero from Saturday morning pictures. It looked like the weasel had a similar mask over the eyes. Joel’s father knew he had gone to get a ferret and laughed when he saw what he brought home.<br />"That’s not a ferret it’s a bloody pole-cat"<br />"Hawkeye said it’s a weasel" Joel sniffed.<br />"Pole-cat, weasel, potato, tomato"<br /><br />There was a similar reaction from Joel’s friends and their fathers. They were all of the opinion it wouldn’t be much use for catching rabbits. Joel didn’t care, at least he wasn’t going to get bitten. The boys gathered in Jamie’s garden with their ferrets ready to go and find some rabbits. They knew of several warrens because they had seen the holes when out in the countryside. The boys had been given some nets and pegs to place over the holes and had a small lump of wood each to kill the rabbits. Jamie’s oldest brother looked at the boys grinning.<br />"I’ll give fifty pence to whoever can keep the ferret down their pants longest" he challenged.<br /><br />Xander looked decidedly nervous.<br />"Won’t they bite?" he asked.<br />"There was one case where a man had his willy bitten off, but he got it sewn back on. Anyway I doubt if they’ll worry about your little maggot" Jamie's brother answered laughing.<br /><br />The boys were apprehensive but Jamie tucked his trousers into his socks ready. Jamie had to live up to his brother's reputation and he wasn’t going to lose face. Besides, fifty pence was fifty pence! Joel, Mattie, and Xander copied Jamie then unbuttoned their trousers. On the count of three the boys put the ferrets down their pants.<br /><br />They tried to keep still with the claws of the ferrets scratching thighs and legs as they wriggled about. Zorro just went to the bottom of Joel’s trousers and curled up to go to sleep. It was too much for the other boys who pulled up their trouser legs out of their socks, allowing the ferrets to escape through the bottom by the ankles. Joel was declared the winner. Jamie’s brother handed over the fifty pence laughing at the other boys who were inspecting their legs for scratches. None were actually bitten.<br /><br />For all the mickey-taking it turned out Zorro was perfect for the job of netting rabbits. It was an asset that he was slow and cumbersome because it meant there was little chance of him making a kill underground. It was a problem if the ferrets caught and killed a rabbit because they would eat their fill then curl up and go to sleep. If this happened the owner was left with three choices. Dig the ferret out, wait hours for it to wake up and re-emerge, or leave it and buy another ferret.<br /><br />The boys soon learnt by their mistakes. Sometimes they would miss one or two of the escape routes and not put a net over them. It was almost as if the rabbits knew which had been missed and bolted out of those holes. The other thing was they had to be very quiet because some rabbits would rather face a ferret than go above ground if they knew humans were waiting. Joel’s first kill was a disaster. He held the rabbit down and asked Mattie what to do.<br />"Hit it" Mattie said waving his bit of wood.<br /><br />Joel gave the rabbit a knock on the head with his piece of wood but it just struggled more.<br />"No, HIT it!" Mattie yelled.<br /><br />Joel hit the rabbit as hard as he could and both the eyes popped out.<br />"Yuk! You didn’t have to hit it that hard!" Mattie snorted.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-29648206469638860402016-12-15T05:30:00.000+00:002019-01-27T23:38:51.596+00:00ADC.04<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_P4rJqHICG2gRac_kIEwc4MkRzL3OnRy2NNUihVu_SN-9xe7angCzcUfbZ9cUzTDRpF1cQIQCKro9yD_z_qS4DAj_InY9mYupoDpafefeMmJk-hCnhvOUIRIJ-V6mRry2mMekVEi_zLHp/s1600/front4.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_P4rJqHICG2gRac_kIEwc4MkRzL3OnRy2NNUihVu_SN-9xe7angCzcUfbZ9cUzTDRpF1cQIQCKro9yD_z_qS4DAj_InY9mYupoDpafefeMmJk-hCnhvOUIRIJ-V6mRry2mMekVEi_zLHp/s1600/front4.png" /></a><b><u>4.Stirrings</u></b><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>'There is a spark within all men that will never be extinguished. We all cling on to the dying embers of childhood long after they are buried in ash. Sometimes the transition from child to adult is instantaneous. For Joel he had to watch helplessly as he saw his childhood slip away' - jp</i></b></span></div>
<br />
<i>One morning Joel woke, had toast and jam for breakfast and hurried out the door. A number of boys had already gathered and were playing football. What was a little surprising was the fact a girl was also playing. If that wasn't enough of a shock, she was faring well and getting stuck into tackles. Having a girl join in went against the boyhood code, but the girl's demeanour showed her to be an exception. It still rankled. Jamie broke off from the game and approached Joel.</i><br />
<i>"Who's that and why is she playing football?" Joel asked a little annoyed.</i><br />
<i>"That's Jodie and she wanted to play. The other kid is her brother Terry"</i><br />
<i>"You let her play?" Scott asked equally confused.</i><br />
<i>"She beat Jake up" Jamie said by way of an explanation and Joel looked at the girl with interest.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Jake had been teasing Jodie's brother who from a distance looked identical. Watching the siblings running around and kicking the ball, it would be an easy mistake thinking Terry was the girl and Jodie the boy.</i><br />
<i>"Thought we were going to the woods" Joel said still put out by the intrusion.</i><br />
<i>"We are"</i><br />
<i>"Is she going?" Joel asked and Jamie shrugged.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>With all the boys in attendance they gathered round to discuss what to do and decided to go to the pump-house instead. It was a longer walk but it had been a long time since the last visit, and they could catch eels. If they were really lucky they could tickle a trout or two in Potter's Pond on the way back. As the group walked through the fields to the pump-house Jodie kept close to Joel. He was getting really annoyed this girl was invading his space. What was it with girls that made them so clingy with him. Jodie tried to engage Joel in conversation, even his moody one word replies didn't put her off.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Jamie could see Joel was getting more and more irritable and wasn't his usual self. Joel could be a bit of a joker, but when he was in a mood the group as a whole seemed to lack the spark that made everything fun.</i><br />
<i>"You should have seen Jodie fight Jake she was awesome" Jamie ventured.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>It was exactly the right thing to say. Joel and Jake were arch enemies and whilst Joel always won their battles it was often close because Jake was no pushover. Only Jamie and Ashley of the others could beat Jake consistently. Joel looked at Jodie curiously. She was very similar in stature to Joel yet Jake was much thicker set and a little taller.</i><br />
<i>"How come?" Joel asked.</i><br />
<i>"I do judo" Jodie answered proudly.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Now Joel was interested. Both Jodie and Terry had been learning judo for almost three years, the tomboyish Jodie had long since left her brother behind in ability. She was the dominant twin by far but Terry served to keep Jodie in practice.</i><br />
<i>"I'm a green belt, Terry is orange"</i><br />
<i>"You're a green aren't you Joel?" Xander asked hearing the conversation.</i><br />
<i>"Not yet" Joel muttered and Ashley laughed.</i><br />
<i>"So Jodie can beat you up as well then" he hooted.</i><br />
<i>"Rubbish! I've only been doing it ten months not three years"</i><br />
<i>"Best of three?" Jodie suggested, eager to show Joel what she could do.</i><br />
<i>"You're a girl!" Joel snorted.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Jodie reacted immediately and pulled Joel across her body using a Tai-Otoshi throw. It caught Joel off guard but he reacted well and as he fell, he pulled Jodie down with him. He quickly had the girl in a headlock. She tapped his shoulder and he let her go.</i><br />
<i>"One to you" Jodie said facing Joel, a determined look on her face.</i><br />
<i>"I don't fight girls" Joel said and carried on walking.</i><br />
<i>"You're really good" Jodie said catching up.</i><br />
<i>"Thanks" Joel said and his tetchiness evaporated.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>He had saved face and Jodie had bolstered his ego, looking at him with something akin to admiration. Suddenly Joel was happy to have Jodie walking next to him. He completely forgot she was a girl. Attraction to an eleven year old was so uncomplicated because it wasn't physical, at least not consciously. Jodie made Joel feel strange. He wanted to be near her but was scared of losing credibility with the boys. They might think he was a sissy if he hung around with Jodie too much. Jodie was probably Joel's first crush before he even knew what a crush was.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It would be wrong to think the boys from the village were little cherubs, precariously wobbling forward over the stepping stones of life. Far from it. Perhaps it was the freedom afforded them which made the boys wild, or the severity of punishments at home. Conversely those same factors may have been all that kept the boys in check. There was certainly something primeval about the boys. How many nine, ten, eleven year olds today could fend for themselves and live off the land. The games were soon to change as an insidious new enemy began to stalk the boys. Puberty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It may still have been some way off to all appearances but the change in the boys, only noticeable in retrospect, had already begun. Joel liked Jodie but didn't know why. After all she was a girl. He wanted her around, mostly, but her presence was a restrictive influence on the boys. The old fashioned chauvinistic attitudes of the village dictated that the fairer sex was weaker and needed gentle treatment. Jodie went some way to discrediting the theory but even so, otherwise boisterous tackles at football and general rough and tumbling were minimal where Jodie was concerned. It was something Jodie hated and quite rightly so. She had earned her right to be with the boys, and could easily have bested many of them in typically male pursuits.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
Joel began to visit Jodie at home, but without the other boys knowing of course. Jodie and Terry were as identical as different gender twins could be yet Joel almost ignored Terry on his visits, as much as Terry allowed him to. The twins had striking steel blue eyes with an almost hypnotic quality and Joel often found himself staring into them absent-mindedly. Jodie's parents were different to those of the other boys Joel knew. The father was a vicar who had married their Catholic mother, causing quite a stir among some parents of kids at the Catholic school. The mother made sure Jodie and Terry were baptized, just in case there is a God. Her appearance was how Joel imagined a hippie from a 60's cult would look, and she had similar attitudes.<br />
<br />
Jodie and Terry both had to get ready for bed at six o clock, which at ten years old Joel thought was insanely early. He didn't even have to be home until 7:30pm, the time the twins actually had to go to bed. Joel always waited until the last minute to go home so he could watch Jodie changing. She didn't seem to notice Joel's curious stares and she made no attempt to hide herself. On the way home Joel would curse himself for being a freak. Why did Jodie interest him so much? Joel wanted answers but who could provide them.<br />
<br />
The more Joel found out the less he knew. Each answer would give rise to more questions. Joel's feelings towards his friends were mostly consistent, yet it was different with Scott and Jodie. Just being in their presence gave him a lift. Jodie tried to get Joel to sleep over at her house but he refused. The thought of going to bed at 7:30pm was a contributing factor for his refusal, but wasn't the main reason. He would have been ridiculed by his friends for sleeping over with a girl.<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">* * * * *</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The boys were growing fast and the last snow of winter made way for the daffodils of spring as the boys lives careened from one phase to the next. They were soon to leave the comfort zone of the small village schools in which they were big fish in little ponds. The transformation to being little fish in a big pond was for many a shock to the system and quite traumatic. None more so than Joel, but he had no inkling of what lay in store for him right then. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">At least with the other boys they would have some familiar faces around them. The parents of the boys had started treating their little soldiers differently as well. Jodie's mother was an exception. She still molly-coddled the twins, perhaps it was why Terry was so babyish. It didn't explain why Jodie was so tough though. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The summer crept up on them and it was to be the most memorable of Joel’s life, if only for being the last real summer of childhood. Many people reflect on what might have been and think of a point in their lives they would like to go back to, for Joel it was the summer of ’81. It is likely his friends would have picked the same time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It may have been the time the boys would have picked but not so their parents. The news on television was all doom and gloom. Unemployment had almost doubled over the last twelve months and rioting was happening everywhere. Even so, the village seemed impervious to the growing unrest all around. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The village may have been locked in its own little time-warp but in many ways that was a good thing. It is ironic that political correctness which on the surface appears to be a good thing is in fact detrimental to the mindset of so many. It puts emphasis on differences instead of ignoring them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />With his father away at sea and the summer holidays in full swing, Joel pestered his mother to have someone sleepover. In the end he wore her down and she said he could have someone stay at the weekend.<br />"Who do you want to come?" she asked.<br /><br />When it came to a sleep-over Joel no longer cared if the other boys made fun of him for sleeping with a girl. She was nearly a boy in Joel's eyes. Besides he would soon be going to another school and soon wouldn't see his friends much at all.<br />"Can Jodie come and stay?" he asked.<br />"Who do you want to come and stay?" Joel's mother asked not sure she heard right.<br />"Jodie, a girl from school" the boy repeated and his mother was a little taken aback.<br />"You can't have a girl sleep over!" she said.<br />"Why not?" Joel asked wondering if his mother thought he was a sissy for wanting a girl to stay.<br />"Because she would have to share your bed" she said in a voice which suggested it was obvious.<br />"So?" Joel didn't understand.<br />"Soooo, girls don't like to sleep with boys, boys are smelly" Joel's mother said trying to avoid what she really thought.<br />"We can have a bath first" Joel suggested, further exasperating his mother who was adamant.<br />"The answer is no, now no one can stay for arguing" she said and the matter was closed.<br /><br />Joel trudged off sulking, disappointed at the refusal. His mother’s reaction puzzled him.</span><br />
<br />
There was little doubt the village boys were more in tune with nature than their 'townie' counterparts. It wasn't just having the countryside as their playground, they knew how to live off the land. Potatoes they dug by hand were put around the edges of the fire to cook, while pheasant, trout, or rabbits they caught were roasted on sticks. Their expertise didn't happen overnight and they made mistakes as they learned the ways of the wild. It didn't take them as long as would be imagined and not many adults could match the boys for their hunting or camping skills.<br />
<br />
There was something about camping out away from civilization that made the boys feel alive and most important, independent. Unless a person has been in the wilderness and fended for himself it is incomprehensible the feeling such a simple pleasure affords. People are spoilt in today's modern world. Even camping has become more of a luxury with lamps, cooking stoves, air-beds, and various other accessories to make the experience more comfortable.<br />
<br />
Okay the boys would be given sausages, tins of beans, and grandmother's rock cakes for sustenance, but in every other way it was back to basics. The woods were fine but camping on the beach was that little bit more special. Sea-food was so much easier to come by than pheasant or rabbits, and less painful than a pellet in the backside from Potter's air rifle. It was perfect, Mattie and Xander both had a four-man tent and Mattie knew of a place beyond the cliffs where the boys could camp in seclusion. He had camped there before with his father.<br />
<br />
A couple of days later it was a rather subdued group who headed for the train station in silence. Alan had gone away with his parents to see relatives, but it was the loss of Nathan responsible for the grave mood. Nathan's downward spiral was gaining momentum and the knocks kept coming. His domineering step-father wouldn't allow the boy to camp out. The friends were angered watching Nathan pleading in tears to be allowed to go.<br />
"You're not going" Nathan's step-father remonstrated then turned to the assembled boys "I know what you lot get up to, be off with yer!"<br />
<br />
Joel gave the man a look of pure hatred. All the boys stood glaring at the man who seemed taken aback. They didn't approve of Nathan's treatment but could do nothing about it. The step-father ushered Nathan inside hurrying after him and slamming the door. The friends didn't move for a few seconds but gradually turned and walked away knowing protests would be futile and even detrimental to Nathan.<br />
<br />
The long sandy beach on the outskirts of the seaside town attracted many visitors. A road ran the length of the beach before turning inland towards a golf course. The point where the road turned inland was generally as far as visitors to the beach went. Apart from cutting through the golf course and climbing over a couple of fences then walking over the top of the cliff, the only way to access where the boys were going was to trample across the rocks below when the tide was out. The group may have taken a train to the town, but still had to walk a good three or four miles to the chosen spot. It was worth the effort.<br />
<br />
The new found wealth of some of the group did provide a few luxuries, but luxuries for the boys were geared up to play, not comfort. The boys bought inflatable beach balls, rings, beds, and the like. The friends were due to camp out for three nights. If there was a problem they were only the short train ride from home and most of the boys had money. That first day they were intent on making the most of the sea and having fun. Exploring could wait until they tired of playing in the surf. It was not something they tired of easily and the whole day was spent splashing about in the breaking waves.<br />
<br />
The boys played with their inflatables on the main beach area where the tourists were. It was a little windy and they lost one inflatable bed, watching it cartwheel away over the sea. As the tide began to go out and the beach started to empty the boys made their way to the cliffs, still with a good walk ahead of them before reaching their campsite.<br />
<br />
They had chosen not to gather sea-food the first day because there was plenty to cook with what was brought from home. When the tents were up and with the sun going down, the boys gathered driftwood and other combustible material to make a fire. They had enough for one night but knew they would have to go up behind the cliffs the next day to get more. Over a roaring fire they cooked sausages and beans, with rock cakes for dessert. It had been a long day and they chose not to go back into the water, it was still choppy and the wind was chilly in spite of it being summer. The clouds overhead looked threatening and the exhausted campers crawled inside their tents.<br />
<br />
Even after the late night the boys were up at the crack of dawn and were rewarded with a beautiful day. The wind had dropped and the sea was calm. Joel, Ashley, Jamie, and Scott went to buy some breakfast from the shops in town as they had the most money. It was a long walk but worth the trip. The boys might be eating healthy when the tide went out, but biscuits, chocolate, and fizzy drinks, were on the menu this morning. The tide had come in and the boys had to take a detour up a trail that led to the cliff top, then through the golf course. Mattie, Xander, Jodie, and Terry went part of the way and set about gathering firewood for the evening. From the top of the cliffs the boys watched the fishing boats going out on the top of the tide. They would be back late in the afternoon and the boys would be there to meet them.<br />
"Get me a whiting!" Ashley shouted at the top of his voice and the others laughed.<br />
<br />
Whiting was the fish of choice. The fishermen wouldn't part with cod, and herring and mackerel were very boney, though they were good for cooking on a stick over the camp fire. It gave them a smokey taste the boys loved.<br />
"Get me a crab!" Scott shouted cupping his hands around his mouth.<br />
"Get me a lobster!" Joel shouted and the boys laughed again.<br />
<br />
Of course the fishermen couldn't hear them but it was good fun anyway. The boys hurried on, the thought of sea food reminding them they were hungry. It was fortunate the shopping list was simple because it was deceptively early being summer, and the only shop they found open was a newsagent. The boys bought their rations and hurried back eager to divide the spoils. Each boy would have two bars of chocolate, half a packet of biscuits, and a fizzy drink. Ashley wanted his straight away but Jamie and Joel overruled him saying it wasn't fair on the others who were gathering firewood.<br />
<br />
Sat on the sandy beach munching away, the friends imagined themselves as castaways, explorers, or pirates marooned on a desert island. The others had been fortunate enough to find a dead tree blown down during a storm and gathered plenty of wood. They resisted the urge to make a fire knowing they would need as much as possible to cook with, and for warmth when the sun went down.<br />
<br />
Instead of going back to the main beach area which was a long unnecessary walk, the boys chose to play and swim where they were. Later they would gather cockles and mussels when the tide went out. Mussels were most prized. Cockles needed to be put in fresh water overnight to purge themselves and spit out the sand, otherwise they tasted gritty. With fresh water precious for cooking any crabs the boys scrounged, it couldn't be wasted on cockles.<br />
<br />
Mussels could be eaten alive and straight from the shell but the boys preferred to cook them. They didn't move or anything, and didn't even taste any different, it was just the thought of eating something alive. On a previous occasion Mattie had told the boys about eating them raw and demonstrated. The others tried a raw one but decided to cook them from then on.<br />
<br />
The day was perfect. Playing on their own secluded beach before chasing the tide out, picking up whatever treasures the sea cared to donate. It was precious little that was edible apart from the cockles and mussels. The mussels clung to a large rock formation that stuck up from the otherwise flat sea-bed. The boys only picked the biggest ones. As the tide ebbed the rocks thinned out and were replaced by a sandy bottom. It was there the boys found the cockles. They were barely covered by the sand and the boys raked them out with their fingers.<br />
<br />
When the tide was on the rise again it was decided Scott, Ashley, Joel, and Jodie would greet the incoming fishing boats while the others went back to camp. They couldn't all go, the fishermen might get funny with so many kids hanging around. What if something happened and one got hurt. Fortunately the fishermen recognised the village boys from before and knew they were not tourist kids. Who knows, one or two might even become fishermen themselves. Scott and Ashley had been first choices because they were cheekiest, and consequently the best scroungers.<br />
<br />
Joel earned his place with the legendary lobster but Jodie wasn't a popular choice. Jodie insisted on going and sparked a debate. It was starting to irk some of the boys. Jodie was only there because the boys had turned a blind eye to her gender, she had no right to make demands and had already disrupted the sleeping arrangements. Both Ashley and Jamie refused to share a tent with a girl, even if it was Jodie.<br />
"It might be a good idea, they might give a girl more" Joel said trying to back Jodie up, but making it seem like good sense.<br />
<br />
Jodie smiled and their eyes met. Joel found himself blushing and turned away before anyone noticed. 'What was that all about?' Joel chastised himself mentally. He couldn't understand why a single smile from Jodie made him go stupid. The boys finally agreed after Jamie said he was tired from going to town earlier. Jodie turned out to be a good choice. It seemed to sway the fishermen seeing a new face. The boys were well known to them by now. Perhaps it was because they hadn't seen the boys for a while, but the fishermen were easier to convince than usual, or maybe they were in high spirits after a good catch.<br />
"Not seen owt of you lot lately" one of the men said as he picked out a crab for each of them.<br />
"We're camping on the beach past the cliffs mister" Scott said taking his crab, barely able to stretch his fingers across its shell where it couldn't nip him.<br />
"How long for?" a second fisherman asked.<br />
"Three days" Ashley said proudly.<br />
"Well you've got a crab each for supper then and if you come back tomorrow and go to my brother's boat, he'll have herring" the man said and the boys smiled.<br />
"It's not one each" Jodie said sweetly with a hint of disappointment on her face and the fishermen look puzzled.<br />
"How come?" the older man asked.<br />
"Our four friends are back at camp" she explained.<br />
<br />
The fisherman looked hard at Jodie but she met his gaze looking sweeter than candy. The man laughed and turned to get the kids another crab each for their friends. They were the smallest crabs of the catch but to the kids they were huge.<br />
"Thanks mister!" they chorused and the way their faces lit up was enough reward for the fisherman.<br />
<br />
The campers turned to go, a crab in each hand, legs still moving and claws trying to reach the fingers of their captors. Joel was open-jawed when he watched how easily Jodie used her 'sweetness' to win over the man. The boys would try begging the men into submission but Jodie just smiled sweetly. Was it instinctual in girls? It was the first time he saw the power they commanded but it wouldn't be the last.<br />
"And boys......." the fisherman added seriously "....if I see you climbing on them cliffs again you'll get nowt..... from anyone!"<br />
<br />
The boys looked to the ground shame-facedly. They knew how dangerous it was and what their parents would say.<br />
"Yes mister" they chorused and the fisherman laughed again.<br />
"Away wi' yer"<br />
<br />
The kids walked past the people on the beach, everyone staring at their acquisitions. The younger kids looked at them almost in wonder when they saw the crabs were still alive.<br />
"Look mummy, look" they'd say excitedly and point.<br />
<br />
It made the campers feel special.<br />
<br />
Back at the campsite their greeting was just as warm, nobody expected a crab each. It justified Jodie going and her long haul to acceptance by some of the boys was finally over. A fire was smouldering away waiting to be stoked up on their return. Jamie volunteered to cook the crabs and mussels while the others played in the sea, he really didn't like swimming much but the sea was the worst. The crabs and mussels would be cooked and stored in the tents to be eaten cold later. When the water they were boiled in cooled off, the cockles could be put in overnight to purge themselves. Fresh water was precious and none was wasted.<br />
<br />
The boys lost another inflatable. They were cheap and poorly made. The thin material was never going to last long with the robust boys. Ashley had brought a football but they played football all the time at home and the boys wanted to be in the water. Later on they feasted on crab and mussels as they sat around the fire, poking it with sticks to watch the sparks rising into the night. Their bellies were full and all were contented.<br />
<br />
Watching the sun going down and knowing they didn't have to go home felt liberating. At eleven years old the taste of independence and freedom was exhilarating. Being cut off from civilization was scary and exciting all in one go, but there was no doubt each and every one of them loved being there. Long into the night the boys chattered away. The day's events were discussed and retold flamboyantly. Even the simple task of collecting wood had importance and interest.<br />
<br />
As it was getting dark the group looked up identifying the stars. Some knew more than others but without exception they all knew the North star.<br />
"Look at that" Jodie said pointing at the sea.<br />
<br />
The small white waves that broke on the shore were glowing a luminous blue / green in the moonlight. The boys stared in wonder. It ran the full length of the shoreline. Ashley and Scott went to the water's edge and the others watched. Ashley paddled in amongst the strange phenomenon, the others looked on thinking he was insane. They didn't know what caused the sea to glow and the first thing they thought of was jellyfish. Ashley waded in deeper and when he started washing the substance over his arms making them glow, Scott followed. They looked like something unearthly, but having come to no harm the others joined them in the water, rolling around and glowing like nuclear waste. It was surreal and something the boys talked about for years to come.<br />
<br />
Jamie kept the fire going choosing not to join his friends. Joel looked back at him feeling a kind of pity. Jamie was reserved and frequently sat out on activities the others rushed headlong into. The boy wouldn't talk about his concerns, if he had any. Even Joel and Ashley had trouble getting him to open up, but they too were tight-lipped about the beatings at home and it is possible similar may have explained why Jamie was the way he was. Jamie was arguably the toughest of the boys and had to keep up this front, a barrier hiding his true feelings.<br />
<br />
His friends came back to the fire shivering. They warmed up and talked about the strange event they had just witnessed and been a part of. As the night drew on, the fire died down. The boys were still damp, making even the gentle breeze feel chilly and they adjourned to their tents. They dried off properly inside, moonlight illuminating the tent through the thin material. Mattie fished out a dry pair of underpants to sleep in, but hesitated before slipping his swimming trunks off.<br />
"You'll get a salt rash if you don't change" he advised.<br />
<br />
The others changed and even though they were only silhouettes, Joel suddenly understood Jamie and Ashley's reluctance to share with Jodie. He felt self-conscious about being naked in front of a girl even though she couldn't possible see anything. Sometimes it was hard to think of Jodie as a boy and none was more conscious of this than Joel right now. He thought about Jodie and the smile that made him blush, still unable to make any sense of it all.<br />
<br />
The quartet settled down, looking up at the roof of the tent. Joel drifted into a deep peaceful sleep, the like of which he would never experience again. The perfect day had ended with the perfect night.<br />
"MORNING!!!" Mattie shouted at the top of his voice in what seemed like only seconds later.<br />
<br />
His three friends stirred and Joel reluctantly opening his eyes. He silently cursed Mattie as Jodie and Scott rolled away from him, leaving a slight chill as their body heat was withdrawn. Although it felt like he was asleep only seconds the daylight outside told a different story.<br />
"I was having an awesome dream but I can't remember it now" Joel said rubbing his eyes.<br />
"How do you know it was awesome then?" Scott countered.<br />
"I don't know... I just know" Mattie and Scott laughed at him.<br />
"I do that all the time" Jodie said and Joel felt himself blushing again.<br />
<br />
Luckily the others were getting dressed and didn't notice. Mattie's shout had woken the other tent as well.<br />
"You snore like a pig!" Xander was heard saying to Ashley.<br />
"Your feet smell" Ashley snorted.<br />
"How could they, I was swimming all day"<br />
<br />
A loud, not unfamiliar sound was heard and the boys looked for the origin. It was Jamie who couldn't help the lop-sided grin on his face. There was a brief pause as the noxious gas wafted to the nostrils of the others then a mass, and rather swift exodus was made from the tent. Ashley, Xander, and Terry dived from the tent holding their throats in exaggerated choking simulations.<br />
"YOU STINK!!" Ashley shouted back at Jamie who could be heard chuckling inside the tent.<br />
"It's all that crab" he offered in mitigation.<br />
<br />
The others poked their heads out of their tent to see what all the commotion was about. It was easy to read the situation even without the stream of abuse Ashley and Xander hurled at Jamie. Not having had to put up with the smell themselves the others joined in with Jamie's laughter. Joel and Mattie built a fire whilst Ashley, Jamie, Scott, and Xander took the empty plastic bottles to fill with water. They used an outside tap at the golf club. Jodie and Terry set about tidying up the tents.<br />
"Can't we get any eggs?" Mattie asked Joel.<br />
<br />
Joel told him what the fisherman had said. The boys were faced with just cockles for breakfast and possibly just a herring for dinner.<br />
"There's no fruit or veggies around here" Mattie moaned.<br />
"We've still got loads of money left" Joel said.<br />
<br />
The boys had healthy appetites and with all the stuff from home gone a crab or herring wasn't enough to feed them, even with mussels and cockles in between.<br />
"Why don't you and Terry go into town and get some sausages?" Mattie suggested.<br />
<br />
Involuntarily Joel's eyes went to Jodie who seemed to have the same thought.<br />
"I'll go, I can carry more than Terry" Jodie put in quickly and Mattie looked up from poking the fire.<br />
"Okay then, but don't be all day, and get some beans as well"<br />
<br />
The pair hurried off before there was a change of mind. They chatted about what to buy and settled on sausages, beans, and potatoes. It would make a change for Joel to <i>buy</i> potatoes. The journey seemed brief as they were so wrapped up in conversation, mostly about what had happened so far. Jodie looked at Joel.<br />
"Do you mind if I hold your hand?" she asked coyly.<br />
"Course not" Joel said looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody could see, and also to hide from Jodie the fact he felt the heat in his cheeks again.<br />
<br />
They walked hand in hand until they were close to civilization again, then Joel let go of Jodie's hand. That would be too embarrassing, being seen holding a girl's hand. Jodie turned to face him.<br />
"Close your eyes" she said softly.<br />
"What?" Joel said with a puzzled frown.<br />
<br />
Jodie just looked into his eyes and he closed them obediently. The girl stepped forward and kissed Joel full on the lips. It was odd because Joel didn't like kissing. He was only ever kissed by his grandmother and aunts, and he had tried to avoid that for at least three years now. It was the same sort of kiss but it felt different. The kiss was brief and Jodie stepped back.<br />
"You look like a tomato" she laughed.<br />
<br />
Joel's face was now so red he thought he would burst a blood-vessel. They laughed and hurried off into the town.<br />
<br />
Jodie and Joel had their first 'domestic' on the way back. Joel insisted on carrying both bags as he had watched his father do with his mother many times. It was the man's duty. Feminists would regard the boy as a budding male chauvinist pig and possibly with justification. Joel had observed the unwritten code since his eyes first opened. Men and women were different, each had their own skills. One of the 'man' things was fetching and carrying. It made sense, men were stronger.<br />
"I only came to help because Terry is such a wuss" Jodie snorted.<br />
"Two bags keep me balanced" Joel lied, the potatoes were okay for half a mile but were now getting heavy.<br />
"The others will think I'm useless"<br />
"You can have one bag when we get closer to camp and say you carried it all the way" Joel compromised.<br />
<br />
Joel would like to have handed them both over right then but his stubborn pride wouldn't allow it. Jodie looked at him. Joel could feel her gaze but kept looking straight ahead. Was his face going red again? He didn't blush often but had blushed more times in two days than he had in five years.<br />
"It wasn't the only reason I came" Jodie said softly.<br />
<br />
He was definitely blushing now. Joel jabbered away, talking nervously about utter nonsense just to give himself time to think. He had never spoken to girls before, they made him feel uncomfortable. Until the kiss Joel hadn't felt awkward with Jodie because he treated her like a boy. Now he was feeling a different kind of uncomfortable. A nice uncomfortable. Joel put the bags down. When they rounded the corner they would be in sight of the camp.<br />
"You can have one now" Joel said a little relieved.<br />
"Thank you" Jodie said and wrapped her arms around the boy in gratitude.<br />
<br />
The pair hugged and Joel had his head over Jodie's shoulder. She had a nice smell, it was different to boy smell, much nicer. 'The twins liked hugging people, maybe it was something to do with their hippie mum' Joel thought. Nobody else ever hugged him, not even his parents. It felt good. Jodie hugged tighter and as if coming out of a trance Joel jumped back quickly, his thoughts having blanked out the reality of the situation. He felt strange, he hoped Jodie hadn't noticed. Joel took up the heaviest bag.<br />
"We better get back, we've been gone ages" he said trying to cover his embarrassment.<br />
<br />
Jodie behaved like a boy and did what boys do, but it was becoming increasingly clear to Joel she wasn't a boy. A thought that worried and excited him. It didn't make sense, if he was becoming more aware Jodie is a girl then surely he should like her less, not more. Something just didn't add up for the confused eleven year old. It always seemed to happen that way for Joel, whenever he began to understand something a whole host of other questions would arise.<br />
<br />
Back at the camp the boys ate heartily while they told of the previous days heroics for the umpteenth time.<br />
<br />
The friends played beach football for a while. As the sun rose higher in the sky and the day warmed up, the boys blew up the inflatables to make the most of the appealing looking foam once again. It was quite incredible how simple pleasures occupied active minds, away from the corruptive influences of televisions and games consoles. So carried away were they, time flew past.<br />
<br />
Around the camp fire's dying embers plans were made for the next day but they hadn't counted on the weather taking a turn for the worse. Jamie's mood back at the tents reflected the clouds that had slowly been gathering. The white fluffy clouds joined together and began to look threatening as the blue of the sky was replaced by an ominous grey.<br />
"Well we've missed the fishing boats" Jamie pointed out grouchily.<br />
"We forgot the time" Ashley shrugged.<br />
"We've got some potatoes left" Joel said and the others nodded, potatoes would be fine.<br />
"We've got no wood left for the fire"<br />
<br />
Jamie had kept the fire going while they were swimming and needlessly used up all the wood. It was his fault and now he was complaining, but nobody said that to him. It was too late to gather more and the first spots of rain began to fall. The kids had an uncomfortable night as wind and rain lashed at the tents which dripped inside uncomfortably. Hardly any sleep was had and tempers frayed a little. It reminded the kids that camping for a short time might be fun, but exposure to the elements did have drawbacks. At least in the woods they were mostly sheltered by the trees. It was a relief when morning came and the kids headed off to the station. Never was a warm bed as appealing as right then.<br />
<br />
The end of the holidays saw Joel foolishly glad he was going to boarding school, excited at the prospect of meeting new friends and having new experiences. Joel had no way of knowing what lay in store. Perhaps the worst way to ruin a person's life is when you are doing what you think is best. There was no doubt Joel's parents believed boarding school was the best thing for the boy. Joel had been happy at primary school with friends in abundance. Now Forester Grammar beckoned and happiness was soon to become a distant memory.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-67034601771859416822016-12-14T19:05:00.000+00:002019-01-27T23:38:52.151+00:00ADC.05<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKe-sEGnhgiEq_Vrlj0Z2HkrBksYgujOciZE9bNTRIs29EBG94MG59kcRJUfLtrexjQ8RMkpq16Nrx0a0yo4igOwk9Yy_3Oc6qytslN7JRbQlKnbE-vlVLQ3LS-1urqmLev3X8lkC2D3Y8/s1600/front5.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKe-sEGnhgiEq_Vrlj0Z2HkrBksYgujOciZE9bNTRIs29EBG94MG59kcRJUfLtrexjQ8RMkpq16Nrx0a0yo4igOwk9Yy_3Oc6qytslN7JRbQlKnbE-vlVLQ3LS-1urqmLev3X8lkC2D3Y8/s1600/front5.png" /></a><b><u>5. Clipped Wings</u></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<i>'From freebird to caged parrot is not an easy transition. Those who have - from the egg - never experienced freedom may be better equipped to cope with restriction. What happens to them when they are eventually set free? The concern here is the opposite however. If a horse is tethered or a dog leashed for the first time they will rebel; if an animal is cornered and teased it will become wild and likely to bite!' - jp</i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>
Having passed his 11+ examination with the highest mark ever for the small Roman Catholic primary school, it was recommended Joel go to a school in a neighbouring town which was known as the best in the county. He never had a choice. All his friends went to other schools and when realisation set in, Joel was not happy. Being somewhat exclusive, the decision made by his parents to send Joel to Forester Grammar was purported to be in his best interests. It was to prove anything but.<br />
<br />
Only a third of the school population were boarders and it was unusual for a boy to live close to the school and be a boarder. Joel was one of the very few. His problem was his mother working long hours and his father often away at sea. At eleven years old, he wasn't considered mature enough to organise himself, get his own breakfast, and actually go to school. So with as much fuss and ado as Joel dare display to his strict father, he protested the decision. It made no difference. The decision was made and that was the end of it. Although an intelligent man, Joel's father didn't have an education. At fourteen years old he was working down the coal mine while most of the men were at war. Joel was going to have a good education come hell or high water!<br />
<br />
As Joel walked through the school's main gates, having trudged with his suitcase from the bus stop, he had no idea what to expect. The lack of boys in a similar position made Joel wonder if he had the right time and day. He had been the only boy on the bus. It was only when he drew close to the main gates and saw the bustle of activity, Joel realised it was indeed the right time and day.<br />
<br />
It didn't mean anything to him at the time but Rolls Royce and Bentley cars were depositing the offspring of the wealthy at the gates, chauffeur assisted. Seeing the plush cars Joel was thankful he hadn't been given a lift to school. His father had recently bought his first car which was a beat up old Ford Anglia. Then Joel noticed the attire of his peers. Whilst Joel was wearing nine year old hand-me-downs from his brother, the other boys were all perfectly groomed and wearing the finest clothes.<br />
<br />
In any other school it would have gone unnoticed, but the uniform had changed since Joel's brother was at Forester. In his day the trousers were grey, it was those trousers Joel now wore. He was the only one, everyone else had black trousers. Joel stuck out like a sore thumb.Thankfully three boys wore short trousers and were roundly ridiculed, Joel would be fine if he didn't draw attention to himself.<br />
<br />
In his imagination the school gates could have been an entrance to an ancient Egyptian city, so high and vast were the walls around them. It was stark contrast to the small Catholic primary school where Joel began his education. Joel was filled with awe and suddenly felt small and insignificant. He walked through the gates where two third year boys loitered, watching the new arrivals. As he passed them they sniggered and made comments.<br />
<br />
Joel didn't hear what was said or even know if it was directed at him, but immediately his hackles were raised. His natural reaction would have been to ask what their problem was but from being top-dog in primary school, he was now a faceless nobody. Joel was aware that he was in an alien environment and the initial excitement was replaced by a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He held his tongue and carried on walking. The new boys were easy to spot because they looked nervy and confused. Joel mingled with them.<br />
<br />
Eventually a prefect ushered the new boys towards their boarding house. Inside another prefect with a clipboard took names and barked directions. Joel was in a daze and didn't really listen, it was all too much to take in.<br />
"Name?" the prefect demanded.<br />
"Joel" he answered absently and the prefect ran his pencil down the list.<br />
"Jacobs, Jenkins, Johnson, Jones .......Joel? There is no Joel on the list" the prefect said puzzled.<br />
"No, Joel, Joel Phillips" Joel corrected.<br />
"Well Joel-Joel Phillips, at Forester we are referred to by surnames only you moron, unless some other poor boy has the misfortune to share your surname, in which case you will be addressed by your initials" the prefect said somewhat harshly.<br />
<br />
Joel was annoyed and tried to wind the prefect up.<br />
"What if I had a twin brother called John? We would have the same surname AND the same initial" he asked flippantly.<br />
<br />
It looked for a moment the prefect was going to hit Joel for being insolent. The prefect composed himself and barked out the instructions he had given a dozen times before. Joel still hadn't listened. As he was just about to ask again, another boy beat him to it. The prefect hurled a tirade of abuse at the poor unfortunate and Joel chose instead to follow the crowd rather than push the prefect further. Luckily, as new boys they were all in one of the two main dormitories and Joel guessed right. The boys were assigned beds and told to unpack their things then assemble in the main hall. There was a flurry of activity as the boys hurriedly unpacked their bags, nobody wanting to be left behind.<br />
<br />
The assembly hall was huge compared to that of the Catholic school and it seemed all the older boys' attentions were turned towards the new boys. They were unceremoniously pushed to the front of the hall nearest the stage. The second years were behind, the third years behind them, and so on. There was a low inaudible murmur as boys re-acquainted themselves after the summer holidays. Only the new boys at the front were silent. Occasionally a second year would kick at the back of the knees of the younger boy in front, nearly making the victim fall over. The third time it happened to Joel he spun around and faced the boy, swearing at him. There was a shocked silence among the boys closest to Joel. He was fortunate no prefects were in earshot. Profanity was a caning offence. It took the boy by surprise and he didn't do it again.<br />
<br />
When the teachers filtered onto the stage, a hush fell over the hall. Then the Headmaster came in. The teachers had chairs arranged in a crescent but the Headmaster had a small chunky wooden desk which was a survivor from the original school equipment now four centuries old. Only six teachers were present as they were resident in the school. They had been speaking amongst themselves until their silence signalled the entrance of the Headmaster.<br />
<br />
The Head was an imposing looking man, his face stern and seemingly lacking in warmth. Clearing his throat he began to recite the Lord's Prayer and the rest of the assembly joined in with rehearsed precision. Being brought up a Catholic, Joel stopped when the prayer as he knew it finished, but the rest of the school carried on with the Church of England version '...for thine is the power, the glory, etc.'. It was the first time Joel had heard it and he was confused wondering how his peers knew these additional words.<br />
<br />
As the Headmaster sat, so did the teachers behind him and then he addressed the assembly. He went on for a long time and his words didn't sink in. Joel was lost in the experience, somewhat awestruck. Various words filtered through as the Headmaster welcomed the new boys, expressed concerns about bullying, and announced targets and policies for the new school year ahead. He droned on in a monotone voice and Joel felt his eyelids getting heavy.<br />
<br />
On completion of his rehearsed speech, the Headmaster turned and nodded to the music teacher who went to the large piano on the side of the stage. The whole assembly broke out with a rendition of Jerusalem. If the Lord's Prayer hadn't made Joel feel a little isolated, this certainly did. It seemed every boy assembled knew the words, yet Joel had never even heard the song. It wasn't among the hymns he sang in church, how come even the new boys were singing along?<br />
<br />
The boys waited for the teachers to vacate the stage and then filtered out of the hall. Like sheep the new boys followed the procession back to the boarding houses. Joel noticed all but a few of the older boys veered off to the second boarding house. First to third years were assigned to the Lodge boarding house and fourth to upper sixth (7th years) occupied the Gatehouse.<br />
<br />
Four upper sixth prefects were nominated Sheps (shepherds) and assigned to the Lodge. They were picked – allegedly – for their sensibilities and empathy. They 'shepherded' the new boys as they tried to adjust to boarding school life. For Joel it wouldn't be easy. The new boys were instructed to get showered before dressing for the main evening meal. It escaped their notice (or went unquestioned) only the new boys were undressing, under the watchful eye of a posse of second and third years.<br />
"Come on, proles*, get moving, you haven't got all day" shouted one of the Sheps.<br />
<br />
<em>*<strong>Prole</strong> from Latin <strong>proletarius</strong>, a citizen of the lowest class. It was a term for first years but many older boys referred to younger ones as proles regardless of year.</em><br />
<br />
With just towels wrapped around their waists, the boys were herded downstairs to the shower room. Joel noticed the prefects, who had their own rooms, were suddenly nowhere to be seen. This was to be common when certain initiations or punishments were about to take place. There was only one way into the shower room from the dormitory and the entrance was guarded by several older boys. As the proles hung up their towels, they were pushed unceremoniously into the quickly filling shower area. Joel wasn't at ease being naked in front of the older boys who were fully clothed. Not out of modesty, he sensed something wasn't right.<br />
<br />
He moved to the far corner of the showers, out of the way of the older boys. It turned out to be a good decision. Pretty soon the showers were bulging with all eighteen of the new boys. There were only eight nozzles and the proles jostled for position, vying for one of the jets of hot water. Then the water was turned off. Chaos broke out as a succession of second and third years stepped forward and began pelting the shower occupants with flour and eggs.<br />
<br />
The proles were all squeezed up tight against each other as those nearest the entrance tried to back away from the barrage. Joel was beginning to panic because he was stuck in the corner and becoming claustrophobic. At least he escaped the bombardment. As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped, and the water was turned back on. This time it was cold water and now boys were clambering over each other to get away from the icy jets. As the proles were allowed to vacate the showers, the older boys jeered:<br />
"Welcome to Forester!"<br />
<br />
This was a sign of what was to come. As proles or new boys, Joel and his peers were to be subjected to an assortment of torture and humiliation. It wasn't considered bullying because they were traditional initiation rituals – some as old as the school itself – which everybody had to endure, and a blind eye was turned with regard to such matters. The proles filtered back to the dormitories, a little shaken but not too distressed. Everything was happening so fast it was difficult to strike up a conversation, let alone form new friendships. Hurriedly the proles dressed and under supervision from the Sheps they made their way to the dining hall.<br />
<br />
As boarders the boys arrived back at school three days earlier than the day-boys for a settling in period. It was a good arrangement for day-boys because it meant they had an extra three days off between term times. School lunches were for the whole school, but the breakfasts and dinners were solely for boarders. It was at the dinners another initiation was to take place. Grace was said as the boys all stood behind seats or benches according to status, then one of the Housemasters invited everyone to sit.<br />
<br />
The meals – apart from breakfast – were three courses and although the boys could select however much they wanted, anything put onto plates <i>had</i> to be eaten. That first meal wasn't a problem for Joel because he was hungry, but when he rose to leave the hall two new boys were still sat at their tables with food in front of them.<br />
<br />
On the way back to the lodge, the boy who had been assigned the bed next to Joel, walked with him. He formally introduced himself as 'Piper, William' and Joel wondered whether he should salute.<br />
"What will happen to the two boys left behind?" Joel asked.<br />
"Probably just washing up as it's their first day; but otherwise it would be the lash" Piper intimated.<br />
"The lash for not eating your dinner? That sounds harsh"<br />
"That's why it's best not to heap your plate up, they hate wasted food" Piper explained and Joel made a mental note, although he had never had a problem clearing his plate at home.<br />
<br />
William Piper, or Willy as he somewhat aptly came to be known due to a physical anomaly which was the envy of his peers, was one of the few boys not referred to by his surname, except by teachers of course. The irony of his name was roundly appreciated by all but Willy himself. Young Piper was a good boy to know. He had an older brother at the school who was a valuable source of information. The 'lash' worried Joel, and his mind thought about his father's dreaded belt. It turned out to be what the boys called a beating off a teacher and Joel was not sure he should be happy hearing canes and slippers were used instead of leather belts. An occasional cuff round the ear was not uncommon either and one teacher was a positive genius when thinking up some quite innovative punishments. Thankfully prefects were no longer allowed to cane boys, rumoured to be on account of past abuse of their positions of trust.<br />
<br />
With the boys at school all referring to each other by surname only (except in special cases), the whole school environment was austere and lacking warmth. Everything was so much friendlier at the Catholic school. Already Joel was beginning to regret going to Forester Grammar. He could be at home playing football with his friends right now.<br />
<br />
Silly as it seems one of the worst things to Joel about the boarding house was the lack of a television set. It seemed like the boys were cut off from the outside world. They weren't allowed into town at all during the week (a rule many broke) and at weekends when they were allowed limited time in town, the boys had to wear school uniforms at all times. The uniforms for the first to third years had badges on their blazers and caps which had to be worn outside of the school grounds.<br />
<br />
Those caps were hated but being caught not wearing them resulted in having to write pages (usually two) as a punishment. The main reason for despising the caps was because of the boys from the local Comprehensive school. They used to ridicule Forester boys and if they caught one alone, the least they would do is steal his cap and throw it into a stream, nettles, or even into traffic for it to be run over. It was such an incident that effectively started a 'war' between Forester Grammar and the local Comprehensive which was soon to escalate, due in no small part to Joel. From the fourth year on, long-tail suits and boater hats were the order, but unlike the first to third years, the fourth years onwards were generally proud of their uniform.<br />
<br />
The town was fraught with danger. Particularly for younger Forester boys. A couple of teachers would patrol the town when there were breaks, just to ensure nobody broke the rules and slipped out. Sometimes it became a game of cat and mouse if the boys were spotted but not recognised. Often the teachers would wait by the gates for a return, but the boys knew a couple of different ways to get on and off the school premises undetected.<br />
<br />
Boys from the local Comprehensive school often hunted the younger Forester boys and provoked fights, but only because the odds were always in their favour. Rarely would they face more than two or three Forester boys. Because Forester was a boys only school, pupils were all labelled as gay by the local boys. The slur hurt some of the Forester boys more than others and by consequence there was a latent homophobic element at the school which surfaced occasionally. Many thought the rumours of past atrocities committed by the Comprehensive boys were fabricated to stop illicit trips into town by the younger boys. One thing that was certain, was the animosity the local boys had towards their privileged counterparts.<br />
<br />
As the end of Joel's first day at the school drew to a close, the proles were told to get ready for bed. Joel moaned to Willy about having to go to bed at 8:30 pm and was shocked when he was told it was usually 7:30 pm for first years, except it was Saturday tomorrow.<br />
"Anyway, get some sleep; tomorrow is initiations day" Willy said.<br />
<br />
Great! That was all Joel needed to hear.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
* * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
"Hands off socks, shower blocks!" went the shout went repeatedly as Joel blearily opened his eyes on his first morning at Forester Grammar. It wasn't exactly what was said but near enough.<br />
<br />
Joel climbed out of bed reluctantly. The proles in the main dormitory had to fold back the blankets on their beds exposing the sheets. It was not uncommon for new boys feeling insecure to have problems with the night-water and a prefect would check for stains. Joel was thankful he had finally put his own period of bed-wetting behind him. The boys peeled off their pyjamas and put towels around their waists. Somewhat cautiously they headed for the showers, armed with soap, toothbrushes, and toothpaste, the events of the previous day still fresh in mind. Word had filtered to all the proles this was to be initiations day.<br />
<br />
With the second years accompanying them, the proles relaxed a little as they realised there would be no repeat of the shower incident of the day before. The proles had to wait patiently for the second years to vacate the showers before being allowed to shower themselves. Morning and evening showers were mandatory. In the morning it was always a rush because so many boys used the showers within a short space of time. By the time the proles were allowed to shower the water was usually tepid at best. In the evening there was no set time so choosing carefully meant hot water.<br />
<br />
Joel picked his spot at the back of the shower but only went through the motions of washing. One eye was always on the entrance waiting for an attack. It never came. Eventually he realised the others were coming and going from the showers unmolested, and vacated them hurriedly. The other proles were just as skittish. They may have heard from siblings or other sources it was initiations day but most had no idea what was going to happen. That was the problem, not knowing what to expect, or when.<br />
"When do the initiations start?" Joel asked Willy back in the dorm.<br />
"Straight after breakfast" Willy said remarkably unconcerned.<br />
<br />
Willy brought it home to Joel just how different things were at Forester. The boy was eleven years old, the same as Joel, but was mentally so much more mature. Nor was young Piper unique, the Forester boys seemed to have lost the ability to be children. Everything was so formal and the overall mood sombre.<br />
<br />
Breakfast was uneventful but as the boys left the dining hall, the proles were shepherded down a detour which was to take them past the School Cadet Force assault course in a copse. The copse as well as being home to the assault course was the venue for a lot of skulduggery, giving the boys adequate cover for illicit activities as a scattering of cigarette butts showed. As the proles filed into the wooded area they were lined up by a gang of second year marshals. One prole was taken further into the course and out of view. A few minutes later another boy would be sent for. None came back.<br />
<br />
The proles didn't know what was happening to their classmates and imaginations were running riot. A couple of the proles tried to sneak away but the marshals roughly man-handled them back into line. Joel's turn came and he took a deep breath.<br />
"Come on we haven't got all day" a second year said and pushed him roughly in the back.<br />
<br />
Joel spun round and glared at the older boy who for an instant looked uncertain.<br />
"This one has pepper in his blood" he said to his associate.<br />
"Listen prole, you take my advice and keep your attitude to yourself. I saw you in assembly and swearing at Harris will bring you nothing but misery" the older boy warned.<br />
<br />
The trio approached the awaiting third years and Joel looked at the huge wooden frame-work which usually housed a large rope net as part of the assault course. There was a pulley at the top and a rope was running through it. Two boys held the rope at one end. The other end was attached to a wooden board (similar to a bosun's chair). The apparent leader of the group said:<br />
"This is a test to see if you have balls"<br />
<br />
Another boy stood on the wood and held the rope. The two boys holding the other end hauled him up by way of a demonstration. They took him right to the top. He looked perfectly at ease and was lowered back down. 'That's not bad' Joel thought. The swings in the woods at home were higher and far more precarious. It actually looked like fun and he was ushered onto the board without fuss. As Joel took his place one of the other third years produced a blindfold and covered his eyes.<br />
"To see if you have balls, you do it blindfolded. Whatever you do don't let go. One prole let go a few years back and fell and broke his neck. Terrible shame" the boy in charge of proceedings told Joel.<br />
<br />
It sounded to Joel much like the rumours surrounding Forbidden Wood, the pump-house, and other places around the village. He doubted they would still be allowed to do the initiation if a boy had broken his neck. Nevertheless, he held the rope tight as he felt himself being hauled up. The hauling motion was quite jerky. Joel would be hauled up in one motion but then felt the rope slip back slightly as the boys prepared for another heave. 'Must be near the top now' he thought and held the rope even tighter. The rope stopped moving and Joel wondered how long the boys would keep him at the top.<br />
<br />
Suddenly Joel felt his trousers being yanked down in one swift motion. Still holding the rope tight with one hand Joel lifted the blindfold with the other. He was no more than three feet off the ground and the boys holding the rope let it go. The board dropped the three feet taking Joel by surprise and he crumpled in a heap on the ground. One of the boys laughed, pointing at Joel.<br />
"Yes, this one has balls" he said.<br />
"Not much of anything else though!" another added laughing.<br />
<br />
They all guffawed at Joel's embarrassment. He pulled his trousers up amid the laughter and was sent on his way, continuing through the trees as the older boys sent for another victim.<br />
"Pssst" Joel heard, then saw a boy hidden in the bushes.<br />
<br />
The boy waved for Joel to join him. Joel was going to say something but the boy put a finger to his lips. He moved over to allow Joel to squat next to him and pointed through the leaves. From where the boys were hidden they could see the next prole being shown how the pulley worked. The boy in the bush was the prole whose turn was before Joel. Instead of moving on and returning to the boarding house he decided to hide and watch the others. His name was Mark Kramer and although Joel didn't know it then, he was to have a major influence on Joel's life at Forester.<br />
<br />
The pair watched with mirth at the poor unfortunates who were now experiencing the same humiliation. The reactions varied quite considerably. It was deemed Joel had balls because he peered from under the blindfold thus letting go of the rope with one hand, and therefore displaying a certain amount of courage. Most of the boys just froze and kept holding the rope even though they were debagged. It didn't seem to register that they had to be near enough the ground for someone to pull their trousers down. A couple of boys even started crying.<br />
<br />
It was over too soon for Joel. He was glad to find a boy with a sense of fun and willing to get up to a bit of mischief. A boy who still knew how to be a kid. They walked back to the Lodge wondering what else would happen this day. Joel's concerns over the initiations seemed unfounded, if that was the best they had to offer.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
Saturdays at Forester school were a shock to the system. Unlike other schools the boys had to attend classes until noon on a Saturday and then in the afternoon they played other schools at sports. The autumn and winter terms were rugby and hockey, the spring/summer term was cricket and athletics. Much to Joel's chagrin Forester school didn't play football and the balls were in fact banned completely. All boarders who were not representing the school on a Saturday HAD to attend whichever sport was going on, and cheer for the school team. It was just a ploy to keep all the boarders within the school grounds for as long as possible on Saturdays.<br />
<br />
Joel made friends quite easily as a rule but the boys he was now mixing with were different. They nearly all came from wealthy families and he was a misfit from the beginning. Kramer didn't seem to have the 'plum in the mouth' like the others and Joel liked him, but they were in different dormitories. Mark Kramer was regarded a rascal rather than villain, his cherubic features and natural charm made him popular from the beginning.<br />
<br />
As the term hadn't yet begun, a hare and hounds style paper-chase was organised. This served a dual purpose because it was enacted over part of the school cross-country course. In addition to keeping the boys amused, it also familiarised them a little with the extent of the school grounds. On the downside, it introduced Joel to his nemesis. There were bullies in all years but the worst were usually those in the year directly above.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>Joel hadn't yet identified or understood his differences but they were becoming more apparent with each passing minute. As the other boys changed into their stylish new whites, Joel pulled on his tight white football shorts and vest. It was the beginning of the eighties, when it was fashionable for top football players to wear tight fitting shorts, and would have gone unnoticed in any other school. It was what all the boys wore at his last school, the girls wore navy blue knickers and a vest. Although there were no audible comments, Joel was aware of the glances and sneering undercurrent. He cursed his parents for sending him to this school.<br />
<br />
The hares were given a fifteen minute start then the rest of the boys gave chase en masse. As they left the school grounds via the far sports field they came to a large wood. On reaching the wood the hounds split into smaller chasing groups. Now Joel was in his element. He played similar games at home, albeit without the paper trail. Joel was with three other proles. Two were unenthusiastic and just followed like sheep. The other boy was Bobby Dean, and he was game. Joel took control of the little group immediately and Dean chipped in with helpful suggestions, the other two were just happy the decisions were out of their hands.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>Noticing the paper trail heading off in one direction, Joel looked at the surrounding area and thought of where he would go were he one of the hares. Off to the left the ground rose sharply and he nodded to Dean to follow even though the pack headed after the paper trail. Joel noticed three second years that appeared to be watching them, but he paid no attention. Then the heavens opened up.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>Even though the trees provided some cover, there was no way the boys could stay dry. Joel's decision to climb the muddy bank looked a bad one, their now sopping wet 'whites' soon had a thick coating of mud. The downpour turned out to be just a heavy shower but it had caused chaos among the chasing hounds as the trail became harder to follow. The paper trail was swallowed up by mud but it didn't matter to Joel's quartet, they weren't following it anyway.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>After about ten minutes they stopped for a quick rest. They could no longer hear any calls from the hounds and believed themselves to be isolated. That was when Harris with cronies Tyrell and Stone came up behind them.<br />
"What do we have here then?" Harris asked smirking.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>Joel recognised him as the boy in assembly he swore at. Harris tripped Dean and he landed on his back in a muddy puddle. The second years laughed. As Dean tried to get up, Harris put his foot on the stricken boy's chest and pushed him back into the mud. Joel shoved Harris roughly. There were four proles and only three second years, Joel was convinced they could beat them if there was trouble. Unfortunately for Joel this wasn't the village, and the other boys lacked mettle. They just watched as Harris, face twisted with rage, turned his attention to Joel. The other two second years grabbed Joel's arms and Harris hit him hard in the stomach taking the wind from the boy. Joel grunted and swore defiantly at the older boys.<br />
"You all heard that!" Harris said looking around "Profanity"<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>The other two second years nodded gravely.<br />
"Punishable, if I'm not mistaken, by six of the best" Harris declared smugly poutting his face close to Joel's.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>Still being held by the arms, Joel spat in his face. It wiped the smile away but Harris kicked out, catching Joel between the legs and doubling him over in agony.<br />
"You disgusting little oik. Hold him to that tree!" Harris barked at Tyrell and Stone.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>The cronies pulled Joel up tight against a tree stretching his arms around it, Harris broke off a thin branch from a bush nearby. Dean tried to interject and Harris lashed out with the improvised cane. It struck Dean's face just under the eye, leaving an angry red stripe. Harris turned back to Joel and lashed out hard with the switch. It stung but Joel barely flinched. This made Harris angrier and two more hits followed. Still Joel didn't react.<br />
<br />
Harris hadn't reckoned with Joel's stubborn pride. He wasn't going to let the bully have the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain. To top it all, being hit with a switch by Harris was mild in comparison to the beatings off his father.<br />
"Pull his shorts down" Harris ordered one of the other proles who froze.<br />
"DO IT! Or so help me, you will be next"<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>Joel felt his shorts pulled down and struggled but Tyrell and Stone held him easily. Moments later there was a stinging sensation as the makeshift cane struck Joel's bare buttocks. It hurt like hell but Joel's refusal to yelp made Harris even more determined to make it happen.<br />
<br />
The 'six of the best' became eight, nine, and ten in rapid succession as the bully's frustration boiled over into rage. Joel's head started to spin and he began to feel faint. His legs buckled but Joel's arms were still pulled tight against the tree, keeping him upright. Surprisingly it was Tyrell and Stone who saved Joel as they pointed out his buttocks were bleeding. Harris seemed to regain his composure. He grabbed Joel's jaw roughly.<br />
"I have all year to deal with you prole, and believe me, I will" he said venomously.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>As Harris let go of Joel's jaw the boy spat in his face a second time. He was slapped hard for his trouble, leaving red finger marks on his cheek. It was then voices were heard and a quick glance saw the hares heading towards them. They had doubled back to confuse the hounds and were unaware of the boys ahead of them. The second years hid behind trees and told the proles to go back the way they came. Joel kept looking back and saw the hares getting closer to where the second years were hidden. It added insult to injury knowing Harris and his pals would be credited with catching the hares.<br />
"Everybody will think they caught them now" Joel moaned bitterly.<br />
<br />
The proles trudged somewhat forlornly back to the Lodge, each step for Joel painful, his muddy shorts sticking to the open wounds on his rear. Dean was nursing an angry looking weal across his cheek.<br />
"You idiot!" he said "Why did you antagonise them?"<br />
"Me, antagonise THEM?!" Joel was incredulous, he had tried to stop them picking on Dean.<br />
"Now they will never leave us alone" Dean complained "Don't ever talk to me again!"<br />
<br />
The other two boys were silent throughout. On their return to the boarding house the proles were greeted by a sympathetic looking Shep. They were the first ones to return.<br />
"Never mind chaps, looks like you gave it a good show" he soothed, having no idea of what had transpired.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>The boys stepped into the showers still clothed so as to wash their whites at the same time. On vacating the shower, other boys began drifting back and came into the room. They had raced back to get a shower while the water was still hot. In one corner of the changing rooms was a small drying room. Joel was hanging his whites up to dry when one of the other boys spotted his buttocks.<br />
"What the devil happened to you?" he asked.<br />
<br />
Joel pretended not to hear and rushed away. Dean answered questions about the mark on his face by telling them a branch whipped back when rushing through the woods. Joel managed to dry himself and cover up before anyone else saw his injuries. He went to a toilet cubicle and closed the door. Twisting his body Joel tried to look at his buttocks and could just see some red marks. He saw the skin was broken in one place but it was more a graze than a cut. It was nothing to the damage his father's belt had done on occasion, it did sting though.<br />
<br />
Even though Dean and Joel were circumspect about what happened, the other two boys who had been with them weren't. At lunch Joel noticed boys looking at him and whispering to each other. Joel winced in pain as he gingerly sat down with his plate of food. One of the Sheps was looking at him with interest. On the return to the Lodge Joel was called into the Shep's study. All four Sheps were in there. The head boy looked at Joel appraisingly.<br />
"We have heard reports of a rather unsavoury incident and would like to hear your version of events"<br />
<br />
Joel was instantly on his guard, he didn't know why he had been called in but imagined he had broken some stupid rule he was totally unaware of. Perhaps Harris had told the Sheps about his use of profanity, but he had already been punished for that. Joel knew he couldn't take another beating that day and was nervous.<br />
"Wh-what have I done?" he asked.<br />
"Nothing, you are not in any trouble; just tell us what happened"<br />
"I don't know what you mean" Joel insisted.<br />
"Very well" the Shep said and stood up.<br />
<br />
He put a plain wooden chair next to Joel.<br />
"Sit down"<br />
<br />
As Joel sat he couldn't help wincing and it confirmed the story the Sheps had been told.<br />
"Now do you want to tell us what happened?" the head boy asked.<br />
"I fell over" Joel replied rather lamely.<br />
"Whomsoever may have hurt you does not deserve your protection. I will ask one more time, what happened?"<br />
"I fell over" Joel reiterated stubbornly.<br />
"Very well" the Shep sighed "You need to see matron; Dixon here will take you"<br />
<br />
The reactions of the Sheps surprised Joel, he thought he had gotten away lightly. He had guessed the 'punishment' meted out by Harris was unofficial but this was his first day proper at the school and everything was strange.<br />
<br />
The matron was a kindly, elderly lady. She put some cream on Joel's backside and he was sent on his way escorted by Dixon. The matron gave disapproving looks to Dixon as they left and he shrugged as if to say 'what can I do?'. Outside the sun was breaking out again and it was warming up. Joel had been excused swimming which was currently being organised. He looked disappointed.<br />
"I wouldn't worry, just more ritualistic torture of the proles" Dixon told him.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>Joel didn't answer, still feeling a little sullen about the day's events. Dixon was trying his hardest to cheer Joel up. One thing Joel did like was when Dixon mentioned how much respect he commanded from the older boys for not snitching on Harris. Yes, he mentioned Harris by name! Everybody knew by then who had done what to whom, but without testimony from the victim, nothing could be done. Joel's upbringing didn't allow him to tell tales, which in the long run was fortunate. Other boys who snitched were ostracised by their peers, making it difficult to get victims of bullying to come forward. Joel on the other hand (in the eyes of most boys) was entitled to inform, due to the perceived severity of the incident.<br />
<br />
At the pool Joel was a mere spectator and watched as the proles filed out first. Joel was relieved he had been excused when he saw the boys in their brand new swimming trunks. His were several years old and a little too small. Although relieved in one respect, he was also disappointed. Joel loved swimming and what he saw didn't look like ritualistic torture. Initially the proles had to complete a length of the pool. It was to find out if there were any new talents among them. Joel didn't mind missing that because although he could swim reasonably well, he certainly wasn't fast, or a star in the making.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>What followed was right up his street though. A long wooden pole was dragged across the width of the pool. Armed with adapted kayak oars (the ends were wrapped with linen and taped up), the proles were sent onto the pole from either end with the intention of knocking each other into the water. As Joel watched round after round, he was upset knowing he would have done well. Each loser was eliminated and the victor went through to the next round. Joel was convinced he could have won although 'Carrots' Gallagher, the eventual winner of the first years, was no pushover. As the winner of his group Carrots was invited to compete with the second years as well. He was a big lad and could have passed for a third year or maybe even fourth. His shock of flame red hair cemented his nickname. Carrots won his first bout with ease and all the proles were cheering for him.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>In the second round Carrots was paired against Harris and Joel smiled. Carrots had a significant height and weight advantage despite being a year younger. As the boys stepped out onto the pole all eyes were on them. Harris was a bully and certainly no wimp. He tried to intimidate Carrots with fierce facial expressions. Unfortunately for Harris, pulling faces wasn't at all intimidating to the big lumbering prole who stood before him. Carrots knocked him off balance with his first hit and Harris wobbled ominously on the pole. Carrots swung again catching the bully square on the side of the head. Harris went down hard, bouncing off the pole on his way into the water. As he climbed out of the pool spluttering, Harris saw Joel laughing and his face twisted malevolently.<br />
<span lang="ZH-CN" style="font-family: "simsun";"><br /></span>A head shot was illegal and a rematch was ordered. Harris complained bitterly, saying Carrots should be disqualified. This would have normally been the case, but the Sheps knew by the grape-vine what Harris had done to Joel and were determined to make him suffer. Harris refused to take up his position on the pole and was himself disqualified. He skulked off to the changing rooms amid jeers for his apparent cowardice. Carrots lost in the next round but to the proles, he was already a hero.<br />
<br />
Eventually a winner emerged and time was called for the first and second years. Joel would have loved to have gone up against Harris even though the bully was bigger, and somewhat dejectedly he returned to the Lodge as his peers went to the changing rooms.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-88924680293260995172016-12-13T20:36:00.000+00:002019-01-27T23:38:52.637+00:00ADC.06<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNQ-GDvpoXMrsibxk-RK647FSSGL_kdXB_yPWhohb0-Y38_0ejHpsI3VJX9189A-5DM6ora4N17zdPZJGUfcV3oNus4WUGpQXuRMrG4onLqqXnlNpvXMdW50OVWwR2AvBlpOgfXVzuYPN/s1600/front6.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNQ-GDvpoXMrsibxk-RK647FSSGL_kdXB_yPWhohb0-Y38_0ejHpsI3VJX9189A-5DM6ora4N17zdPZJGUfcV3oNus4WUGpQXuRMrG4onLqqXnlNpvXMdW50OVWwR2AvBlpOgfXVzuYPN/s1600/front6.png" /></a><b><u>6. Unsettled
</u></b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #741b47;"><b>'It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change' - Charles Darwin
</b></span></i></div>
<br />
Joel had made an enemy in Harris. Instead of being appreciative that Joel never informed on him, Harris saw it as a sign he could do pretty much what he wanted. One day at school and already Joel was wishing he was home. Whoever described school-days as 'the happiest days of your lives' obviously never went to Forester Grammar.<br />
<br />
One thing Forester Grammar didn't have was racism. The school was multi-cultural, which in 1981 was still quite rare in the area. Boarders came from such places as Swaziland, Singapore, Malta, and Brazil, to name but a few. They were mainly sons of ex-patriots who were abroad working. Many had taken wives in the countries of their work and their spoilt offspring were sent back to the mother country for a 'decent' education.<br />
<br />
In the main, they were to Joel obnoxious brats, who seemed to enjoy the discomfort of others. It was to differing levels depending on the boy, Harris was off the scale. Joel didn't understand these boys may have abandonment issues just as he had when packed off to his grandmother. It had started a bout of bed-wetting for Joel, what must it be doing to these boys whose parents were in another country.<br />
<br />
As with any group of people it is foolish to generalise. They weren't all brats, some had true hearts, but still they had issues. One such boy was 'Herman' Proctor. His name wasn't Herman he was just given that tag because he was born in Germany and the names rhymed. Herman would roll his eyes and mutter 'puerile' whenever some boy thought it funny to say 'Herman the German' out loud. He was the only boy other than Collins who had to retake his first year. There must have been something going on with Herman because he certainly didn't strike Joel as being stupid. His English was perfect but the accent was a little strange. Herman was quieter than most of the other boys which Joel put down to his being a year older and ergo more mature.<br />
<br />
Largely ostracised by his former classmates because of his prolonged 'prole' status, Herman still had a number of friends in the second year and what's more, he wasn't afraid of Harris and his cronies. Joel was happy he had the bed next to him in the dormitory. Herman noticed Joel looking at him and nodded in acknowledgement.<br />
"Something on your mind?" Herman asked.<br />
"Are you really German?" Joel blurted out suddenly conscious he had been staring.<br />
<br />
Herman went and sat on Joel's bed.<br />
"It was awfully brave what you did" Herman said ignoring the question.<br />
"Standing up to Harris?" Joel asked a little puzzled.<br />
"No you clod, I meant it was brave not to inform on him"<br />
"Or stupid" Joel said with a grin.<br />
"No, stupid was standing up to him" Herman countered and Joel looked round sharply.<br />
<br />
It wasn't what he wanted to hear but then he saw how hard Herman was trying to keep a straight face.<br />
"You...." Joel began and Herman could hold back no longer.<br />
<br />
Joel poked the laughing boy in the ribs and they rolled around the bed grappling. Herman was considerably bigger than Joel and consequently underestimated the strength of the boy from the village. Joel pinned Herman to the bed with relative ease.<br />
"Look Phillips wants to kiss Herman!" a boy shouted.<br />
<br />
It embarrassed Joel who was yet to understand these new boys. He always rough and tumbled with friends at home, everybody did. Herman just gave the boy a withered look and he turned away sheepishly.<br />
"You think you're pretty tough don't you?" Herman asked curiously.<br />
"No" Joel lied.<br />
<br />
From the boys he had seen in his own year so far, Joel did think he was tough by comparison. These kids didn't seem very robust at all. Seeing a couple reduced to tears by the initiations was strange for Joel and the fuss his impromptu caning caused surpised the boy. It was rare to see any but the smallest kids in the village cry. Harris didn't worry Joel at all. He fancied his chances in a one on one.<br />
"You would do best to keep away from Harris" Herman warned.<br />
"I'm not scared of Harris, I could beat him" Joel snorted.<br />
"Maybe you could but Harris likes to make sure the odds are in his favour"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
That night after lights out, Joel was just starting to doze when three shadowy figures grabbed him roughly. He immediately recognised one of them as Harris. The other two boys turned Joel over pinning him to the bed, his face was pushed hard into the pillow so he couldn't make a noise. Joel struggled hard but the two older boys pinned him easily and his protests were muffled by the pillow. Just as Joel expected the worst, the two boys holding him released their grip. Herman had seen what was going on and sneaked over to Joel's bed. He hit Harris hard, high on the cheekbone, and the bully went down. Joel didn't see what had happened, but with the release of one arm, he lashed out as hard as he could. Tyrell went to the floor clutching his groin and moaning in pain.<br />
<br />
The third assailant froze like a rabbit in headlights and looked like he wanted to run. The only light in the dormitory was moonlight through the thin curtains but there were enough windows to be able to make out what was going on. Harris rose and swore at Herman.<br />
<br />
The lights came on. Dixon was stood by the light switch:<br />
"Profanity Harris! Headmaster's study tomorrow after breakfast. Stone and Tyrell, verbal warnings. Get back to your rooms. Now!" he ordered.<br />
<br />
The three second years moved quickly, not wanting to incur the further wrath of the Shep, Tyrell and Stone happy Harris had been singled out. Minor infractions – like being out of bed after lights out – were dealt with by a three strikes system. First offence was a verbal warning, second was a written warning (only the writing was two pages and done by the miscreant), and then it was a trip to the Headmaster's study.<br />
<br />
Joel's had been saved a beating but it was another mark against him as far as Harris was concerned. The boys all settled down again but Joel could hear a few whispers in spite of the way the beds were situated. It irritated Joel who imagined most had seen Harris and the others grab him, yet feigned sleep rather than get involved. If everybody had told the three bullies to stop they would have had no choice. Joel was thankful Herman wasn't so spineless.<br />
<br />
Some alliances had already begun to form and Kramer came to see Joel the next morning. He had been friendly the previous day at the assault course and Joel welcomed his attention. Kramer with his natural charm had begun encouraging selected boys into forming a gang of sorts. He had already recruited several including Carrots. Kramer may have been small but he was a natural leader.<br />
<br />
Kramer just generally chatted to Joel, some hinting at what he was doing was completely overlooked at the time though made perfect sense soon after. In Joel's naivety he hadn't realised boys his age could be so calculating in a malevolent way. The village boys were more up front and straight-talking. They couldn't even spell subterfuge. Kramer knew exactly what he was doing but Joel was oblivious to the surreptitious recruitment method. When he didn't make the right noises Kramer went away.<br />
<br />
Reasons for Joel being isolated from his peers were adding up. He was working class, spoke differently, wore inferior clothing, and was to all intents and purposes a loose cannon. In addition Joel had antagonised the worst bully. Boys weren't exactly queuing up to be Joel's friend, perhaps he should have been more receptive with Kramer.<br />
<br />
Breakfast was as it usually was, swift and without incident. There was never a failure to clear a plate at breakfast. The boys were filtering out of the dining hall when Joel saw Harris being led away by Dixon to the Headmaster's study.<br />
"Hope the ass gets ten like he gave me!" Joel shouted so they could hear.<br />
<br />
Dixon looked back and winked. Joel was yet to find out how hard the Headmaster hit; in retrospect it was foolish hoping it was very hard.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
In the main kids are resilient and adaptable but there are just some situations impossible to adjust to. A sudden wrench from the familiar can be traumatic and difficult to adjust to. It felt very much like Joel had been dumped in a foreign country with no knowledge of the language. Time should eventually enable settling in but co-operation of locals is necessary. What chance is there to learn a new language if nobody will speak to you. It wasn't that they all hated Joel, just that being his friend would bring them under scrutiny. Thankfully Herman didn't seem to care what others thought.<br />
<br />
On Sunday mornings, the boys had to go to chapel, unless their religion was other than Church of England. Joel being Catholic could have been excused but he was glad he never said anything. The chapel was in town and it was good to get out of the school grounds. It was also a chance to sneak away for an hour. Those that didn't go to chapel had to sit in the school library until the service was over.<br />
<br />
Joel saw Harris and although the bully didn't say anything, he was looking daggers. Joel hoped his bum was sore. The small scab on Joel's own buttocks came off as he sat in chapel and he could feel the wound seeping, making a sticky patch in his underpants. Joel foolishly went to see matron on returning to school. He was expecting to have some more cream applied but matron took out a bottle of liquid instead. Joel lay face down on the table with his buttocks exposed.<br />
"This may sting a little" matron warned.<br />
"Yikes!!" Joel howled, it was more than a little.<br />
<br />
Joel gritted his teeth and grimaced as more of the liquid was applied. It reminded him of the anti-septic liquid his mother used. Matron let the wounded area dry out for a few minutes before applying a dressing.<br />
"You are very brave" she said and Joel almost told the kindly lady he was quite used to it by now, but thought better of it.<br />
<br />
After seeing matron, it was just about time for lunch and Joel headed to the dining hall instead of back to the boarding house. Harris and his cronies had heard Joel tell Herman he was going to see matron and were laying in wait. As he rounded the corner to the quad Tyrell and Stone took hold of Joel's arms. Harris grabbed his lapels almost lifting him off the ground.<br />
"I took six strokes because of you prole" Harris hissed.<br />
"Hope it hurt, you ass!" Joel snarled with more bravery than he felt.<br />
<br />
Joel was hit hard in the stomach and doubled over with a groan. Harris grabbed his hair and pulled his head back roughly.<br />
"In a week, everybody will have forgotten about your rear, but I will never forget your impertinence" Harris said menacingly.<br />
<br />
A deep anger was building up inside Joel and he wanted to lash out but knew it would have been folly. Herman helped Joel once but it was no guarantee he would help again. Piper was friendly enough but didn't seem the type to fight. Joel was all alone. He wanted to fight Harris but knew Tyrell and Stone would join in. On his knees Joel held his stomach grimacing as the bullies went away laughing. Herman sat next to Joel at lunch.<br />
"I'm going to town this afternoon" he whispered.<br />
"I'll go with you if you want" Joel whispered back almost inaudibly.<br />
"SILENCE!" bellowed a prefect who heard the whispering, there was no talking at meals.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
Sunday afternoon was the only opportunity for the boys to get out of the school grounds for any amount of time. They were allowed in town between lunch and dinner. Joel was excited. All he had seen of the town was when carrying his bag from the bus station. Already Joel was itching to get away from the school he had been at less than forty-eight hours. The walk to chapel had lit the fuse now he wanted to explore. It felt so good to be out of the school and away from his peers. For one mad moment Joel considered walking home and pleading with his parents not to be sent back, but realised the futility of such a deed. The marks on his butt were nothing compared to the ones his father's belt would make.<br />
<br />
Herman kept pointing at girls and whispering lewd comments. Joel tried to feign interest but wondered why Herman was so obsessed with them. Herman was a year older but Joel couldn't see that as a reason. Although only about thirteen years old, the girls were too old even for Herman, and they just smiled condescendingly. The girls were wearing school uniforms as well. They were from a girls only preparatory school situated on the other side of the town. It catered for girls from five to thirteen years old and in the past some of the girls had been known to rendezvous with Forester boys. They usually went for the older boys though.<br />
"Last year some of us sneaked into their school and went swimming in their pool" Herman confided.<br />
"Isn't that dangerous? I mean for getting caught" Joel asked, curious at the revelation.<br />
"No, the pool is right away from the buildings and we used to sneak out after dinner on Saturdays, as long as we were back before eight o clock it was okay" Herman explained.<br />
"Why didn't you use our pool?" Joel asked puzzled.<br />
"Our pool is covered over this term until after Easter and anyway their pool is smaller and the water is warmer"<br />
"I wouldn't mind going. I missed out on the pool yesterday" Joel hinted.<br />
<br />
He wasn't that bothered really, Joel just wanted to try and cement a friendship with Herman. Herman had helped against Harris and was one of the few who didn't judge Joel by his accent and clothes.<br />
"We can have a look next weekend if you like, I'm sure Collins would come with us" Herman suggested.<br />
"Great!" Joel said but was suddenly a little unsure and hoped it would rain or something.<br />
<br />
Joel didn't mind Herman but he had little trust in the other boys. The snide remarks had begun and seemed to be gaining impetus. The boys walked around the town and along the river bank, it was heaven. At one point a couple of local boys shouted some abuse. Joel stuck two fingers up to them and they stayed their distance.<br />
"What's their problem?" Joel asked.<br />
"Local oiks, they hate us"<br />
<br />
Looking at the departing boys Joel couldn't help thinking he would probably relate better to them than his peers at school. He wondered if he could make friends with some of the local boys, if they hated Forester boys they couldn't be that bad. Time flew and the boys found themselves heading back to school. Once more the gloom began to set in. They just had time to get changed for dinner.<br />
<br />
Harris made threatening gestures every time he saw Joel, from a safe distance of course. It was a pain for Joel having always to be aware of ambush. He feared showers the most, expecting to be seized at any time by Harris. After seeing his apparent cowardice against Carrots, Joel knew he wouldn't come alone. Waiting until Herman went to the showers Joel quickly followed. It didn't guarantee safety but Herman's presence might be enough to make the bullies think twice. Joel felt more vulnerable naked.<br />
<br />
Harris was on his mind constantly. Tomorrow was the start of the school year proper, maybe Harris would find another victim among the day-boy proles. At the very least the boarder proles were to see how the day-boys were to be initiated with impunity. Joel felt ashamed of his feelings. He hoped another boy would get bullied instead of him? It was easy to see why others turned away when seeing injustice.<br />
<br />
Back in the common room, boys were signing up for extra-curricular activities. There were different kinds of things and Joel was leaning towards photography, but Herman said orienteering was far better and a lot of it was out of school grounds. That swung it for Joel. The master taking the names for the activities was dubbed 'Dinosaur' on account of him teaching History (he was also the first and second year rugby coach). The teacher looked up at Joel smiling pleasantly. It would be a long time before Joel saw his face looking so benevolent again. Dinosaur seemed to give Joel a mental appraisal.<br />
"Orienteering please Sir" Joel said as Herman had suggested.<br />
<br />
Dinosaur ticked a box against Joel's name and said no more. It was as if Joel had just vanished.<br />
"Photography again this year, Proctor?" Dinosaur said already ticking the box.<br />
"No sir, I want orienteering as well please" Herman said somewhat timidly.<br />
<br />
Dinosaur looked back at Joel as if there was a conspiracy afoot. Joel was puzzled because Herman had deliberately steered him towards orienteering when his first thought was photography. Now Joel finds out Herman did photography last year. Dinosaur looked at Herman somewhat sternly.<br />
"You know we could do with you Proctor, and you would have second year status of course" Dinosaur said in a tone which suggested he wouldn't take no for an answer.<br />
"I did so want to do orienteering, sir" Herman said in almost a whine.<br />
<br />
When he met Dinosaur's fixed gaze, he buckled and head down, Herman meekly agreed to photography. Joel was angry with Herman. How could he do that. Joel complained bitterly but Herman just shrugged and turned away.<br />
"Just leave me alone" Herman said petulantly and stormed off.<br />
<br />
Later Herman apologised to Joel saying he had no choice or Dinosaur would have made his life intolerable. It was all a little confusing. Joel thought it outrageous how Herman could be pressured into taking an activity when he wanted to do something else. It wasn't fair! Rough around the edges they may be but the villagers prided themselves on fair play. There seemed little of it in evidence at Forester so far.<br />
<br />
The next morning Herman was still a bit off. Remarkably Joel actually felt quite happy in other respects and was one of the first to the showers. Stuff Harris! Joel wasn't going to live in fear of him. Nothing happened and Joel remained upbeat. The day-boys would be arriving after breakfast and Joel ate heartily. Herman chilled out a bit after breakfast and led Joel to the main gates to watch the influx of day-boy proles. They were so easy to identify from the other day-boys just by their nervous manner. It felt good. Here Joel was, a seasoned pro of all of three days, and already regarding the new boys in a patronising way.<br />
<br />
The whole school filled up the main hall and it looked packed compared to when it was just the boarders. In the usual manner the teachers filtered in before the hall fell silent at the Headmaster's arrival. A nod to the music teacher and once again the school rang out to Jerusalem. The whole atmosphere felt surreal to Joel but it gave him a kind of lift, even though he felt out of place.<br />
<br />
After assembly the boys went to their classrooms. The first years had two classrooms situated close to the assembly hall and a teacher stood outside each, taking names. Joel was in Dinosaur's class. He would be Joel's form teacher for the year. Dinosaur was all smiles as he greeted the boys, until he saw Joel. He snorted as he indicated Joel was to join the others in his class. Joel was at a loss to see how he had annoyed the teacher but he knew their paths would collide. It wasn't even as though Joel could get away from him. Dinosaur was his Housemaster, History teacher, and the first and second year rugby coach. Joel didn't realise it at the time but Dinosaur was to be just as much his tormentor as Harris.<br />
<br />
Whispers went round the school during morning break and it was obvious to the proles they were the objects of interest. They were hanging around in several large groups believing there to be safety in numbers. For now they were safe. There was not enough time for anything to happen during morning break and as patient as vultures, the second years waited for the one hour lunch break. Initiations were different for the day-boy proles. The boarders had no escape but with the day-boys, the thrill was in the chase. Should any be fortunate enough to escape the clutches of the pursuing second years for the duration of the lunch hour, they would be spared the torture.<br />
<br />
Initiating the day-boy proles could take on a variety forms. Most common was 'poling'. There were several upright poles throughout the school buildings, any boy captured would be carried horizontal to one. His legs were pulled apart and he was rammed into the pole. This have been dangerous but wasn't as bad as it sounds as the impact was almost always on the butt-bone. It was like getting kicked. Wedgies were extreme and would always result in ripped or ruined underwear, although they had yet to be given that name.<br />
<br />
The final method of initiating a prole amused Joel. Faeces face – The prole would be held down by several boys so he was unable to move. A nominated second year would drop his trousers and wipe his bare bum on the prole's face. There was no actual physical harm it was just the humiliation. Although Joel found it funny in the extreme to watch, he doubted it would be so funny being on the receiving end. Joel didn't mind really, it was initiations and they only had to go through them once.<br />
<br />
Joel's conscience allowed him to laugh at the faeces faces because it wasn't a case of one boy being singled out, the majority of day-boys had been on the receiving end. The boarder proles watched in mild amusement as day-boy proles ran hither and thither trying to escape the second years. It was then Joel saw a boy getting poled. Nothing unusual except his tormentors were Harris and friends. This was strictly against the school code because they were boarders. Only day-boys could initiate day-boy proles, just as only boarders initiated boarder proles. Harris just couldn't resist the opportunity to be mean.<br />
<br />
He hadn't seen Joel watching him. Harris had an evil look on his face as he took great delight in the suffering of others. Joel disliked Harris in the same way he disliked Jake but realised there was a world of difference between the two. Seeing another prole reduced to tears by Harris being excessive, Joel turned away. He felt he should do something but was powerless to intervene as Harris and his cronies lined up another prole for a poling. His time would come.<br />
<br />
The first day in all lessons was generally for introductions and the handing out of books. It was all quite exciting. The unblemished work books with crisp new pages Joel always found pleasing. His differences once more came to the fore when Joel plucked a biro and pencil from his pocket, putting them neatly on his desk beside his new book.<br />
"What the devil are you doing with that? Boy!" the Geography teacher shouted in a booming voice, the 'Boy' sounding as if it should be connected to the first sentence but trailed behind for emphasis.<br />
<br />
The teacher marched up to Joel's desk, snatched the offending biro, and snapped it in half. He deposited the two halves in the bin as he strode back to the front of the class. A ripple of giggles from the other boys were stifled in one word.<br />
"SILENCE!" boomed the teacher as Herman handed Joel a spare fountain pen.<br />
<br />
Biros, like soccer balls, were banned from Forester school. The boys had to write in fountain pen or pencil. After Herman explained this Joel noticed for the first time some boys had gold-plated fountain pens – usually engraved – which were a form of status symbol. Joel's parents thoughtfully providing him with a biro, had driven yet another stake into a heart wishing to be at a real school, with real friends.<br />
<br />
The rest of the day passed without any further embarrassment but if there were any doubts about Joel coming into conflict with Dinosaur, they were dispelled by the end of that first day. Everybody had to be marked out at the end of school. The boys had to return to their form rooms and the form teacher would take the register again to make sure nobody had sneaked off. The boys were waiting for Dinosaur to appear from his last class and the chairs were all put on top of the desks to make it easier for the caretaker to sweep up. As they waited "Buster' Greene, a big lumbering day-boy prole, approached Joel.<br />
"You know when you cough you expel germs at thirty miles per hour" he said then promptly coughed into Joel's face from barely a foot away.<br />
<br />
Joel hit the bigger boy hard and he fell back knocking a desk and chair over. It had a domino effect as a whole row of desks and chairs tumbled over. Dinosaur had just rounded the corner to see Joel punch Buster and the ensuing chaos. The desks and chairs were picked up and registration taken. Joel was told to remain behind when the other boys filtered out of the classroom. Dinosaur led Joel off to his study in silence. Joel noticed immediately the selection of canes in an umbrella holder.<br />
"Bend over the chair boy" Dinosaur ordered.<br />
<br />
Joel bent over, realising for the first time he was about to be caned. There didn't seem to be anything he could do and Joel braced himself. Dinosaur raised his arm and brought the cane down with a stinging lash.<br />
"Ow!" he howled and bit his tongue.<br />
<br />
As Joel's first caning he was thankful he only received four strokes. It was enough to take the scabs off and Joel felt the blood seeping into his briefs. All Joel's white briefs now had blood-stains that just wouldn't wash out. Changing for rugby, a day-boy noticed the stains.<br />
"Look everyone Phillips has crapped himself"<br />
<br />
Of course everybody laughed and some even believed it. The day-boys didn't know about what Harris had done. Otherwise the first week had gone on with no further mishaps and Joel had settled into the school routine. He was a 'good egg', according to the Sheps for not reporting Harris, but they would be gone soon and Joel's classmates weren't of the same opinion. Most were of the opinion Joel was an intrusive oik that simply had no place at Forester. Lessons were pretty mundane but the atmosphere was very formal and even coughing in class could bring the wrath of a teacher down on a boy. In spite of the strict regime, it was hard as a first year to get into too much trouble.<br />
<br />
After the initial flurry of activity things quietened down a little. Joel found himself ill-equipped for the new school. Pens, rulers, slide rules, calculators, protractors, compasses, and all manner of wonderful things were produced from the briefcases of boys. All Joel had was a pencil, and the fountain pen Herman had given him. It was a little fortunate really because he didn't even have a briefcase and carrying his school equipment round in a plastic bag would have brought more derision regarding Joel's financial status. There were other differences as well. Almost every boy at Forester had some basic knowledge of languages and sciences, but the nuns at Joel's Catholic primary school just taught the three R's as they were termed, Reading, 'Riting and 'Rithmetic. It did put a question mark against Joel's reason for actually being at the school.<br />
<br />
In his first week Joel had managed to get on the wrong side of two of the worst bullies and the teacher who had most influence over him. Already Joel was becoming increasingly isolated, it was only the beginning. With the term gaining momentum Joel's impoverished background was put to the back of his mind. The lessons were nothing like he was used to but he excelled in Maths. The village accent damaged his English a little but he was good at spelling. His best asset was his retentive memory which helped in many subjects. Joel's thirst for knowledge seemed unquenchable and he was curious about everything.<br />
<br />
The boarders made up one third of the school and generally had the wealthiest parents. They were quick to brag about the wealth and assets of their parents. Joel wasn't ashamed of his background and readily told how his father had been a coal-miner and was now a merchant seaman. He was largely ridiculed. Joel's blood boiled and he wanted to lash out, but the jeers were so widespread he had to ignore them or fight everyone.<br />
"No wonder he's so poor" Joel heard a boy say as he turned away.<br />
<br />
Home life had prepared Joel well for adversity on the surface, but no longer did he have the privacy of his bedroom to shed his tears. Instead Joel got rid of his frustrations on the rugby field. It was rugby season and Joel was showing a lot of promise. His junior blue belt at judo enabled Joel to bring down a much bigger opponent whom many of the other boys were afraid to tackle. It was just a matter of using a boy's momentum against him and nothing brave. Joel's apparent fearlessness did impress his peers who little realised his enthusiasm was borne of anger directed towards them.<br />
<br />
Herman became a little distant. Joel put it down to the influence of Dinosaur, he seemed to have a hold over the boy. Dinosaur coached the first and second years for rugby but his selections for the school team were based on personal favouritism not ability. As a result the teams were underachieving. Through the rugby Joel began to gradually claw his way back into Dinosaur's good books, but there was no such luck with the bullies. Joel had set out his stall from day one and bullies tend not to forgive nor forget.<br />
<br />
Most of the boarders left Joel alone because of the incident with Harris, they knew he wasn't a push-over. To the day-boys he was fair game, especially as he hadn't begun his growth spurts and was smaller than average in stature. Joel wasn't the most imposing boy and ended up fighting on numerous occasions, before the boys began to realise it was a fruitless pursuit. Eventually they left him alone but not until he had visited Dinosaur's study on several occasions. Dinosaur always spoke to Joel nicely after the beating and he thought about joining the photography club next term just to get the teacher off his back.<br />
<br />
Harris was a problem. It was all too easy to get Joel alone as he had no friends, and a constant game of cat and mouse was in play. Dixon was like a guardian angel and watched out for Joel. A couple of times he had suddenly appeared when Harris and his cronies had cornered Joel. Herman was still the best friend Joel had, even though they didn't speak so much now. He still stood beside Joel when Harris was prowling.<br />
<br />
Maybe Joel have joined Kramer's little group but he didn't like the way they were with other boys. It bordered on bullying and Kramer himself was usually behind it. Joel thought how the boys of the village would soon quieten them down. Herman became even more subdued as the term wore on and Joel's over-riding memory of that first term was a feeling of loneliness. He had been separated from friends and family and thrust amongst three hundred boys, all seeming to hate him. Joel was homesick and feeling low, things weren't going to get any better. At least it would be Christmas soon meaning three weeks at home, with real friends, and normal people.<br />
<br />
Joel felt very much like he was a square peg in a round hole. He had been looking forward to an all boys school, at eleven years old girls were still just a nuisance, apart from Jodie of course. These boys were strange though, nothing like any boy from the village.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-88004429133713544052016-12-12T14:47:00.000+00:002019-01-27T23:38:52.499+00:00ADC.07<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3LhwHVltFhC-ip_lSgwVKRY4Fl1Wf1rYSP5OAq-YoPUTjgeoVbr0oNkvRctpgT1NIx6lN2FN2K6lOvJCPvRMQS6hK_J6zI5iqGcAF6Pf5YGEBUYadT36Q031EUoeKxIIH1agI5ny-TODT/s1600/front7.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3LhwHVltFhC-ip_lSgwVKRY4Fl1Wf1rYSP5OAq-YoPUTjgeoVbr0oNkvRctpgT1NIx6lN2FN2K6lOvJCPvRMQS6hK_J6zI5iqGcAF6Pf5YGEBUYadT36Q031EUoeKxIIH1agI5ny-TODT/s1600/front7.png" /></a><b><u>7. Back to Almost Normal</u></b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">'If you are different from the rest of the flock, they bite you' - Vincent O'Sullivan</span></i></b></div>
<br />
The Christmas holidays that year were magical for Joel. Of course he had long since ruled out the existence of Santa by then and was beginning to doubt that of God. It was just nice being able to relax again. Boarding at Forester had less obvious stresses and strains as well as the expected. Joel had to be constantly on his guard 24 hours a day, a moment's lapse could result in more pain or humiliation. At least the day-boys had home time in between school-days.<br />
<br />
Joel's aunt was visiting with her family adding to his excitement. Aunt Maureen was very prim and proper and the rest of Joel's family thought her a little snobby. She was a school teacher and her husband part-owned a small business. Joel had no real thoughts about it, he was just glad he would see his cousins again. Because of how far apart the families lived they only saw each other once every two or three years.<br />
<br />
Adam was a little older than Joel and Luke a bit younger. Charlie was the youngest by far and his brothers underestimated him. Joel did at first until one day. The three older boys would play together quite happily although Adam and Luke often squabbled. Charlie would usually be around the adults but frequently went to see what the other boys were doing. Joel went to the kitchen shortly after one of Charlie's interruptions to hear the youngster reporting back to the mothers.<br />
<br />
Adam always gave off an air of superiority as the oldest, reminding Joel vaguely of his peers at school. It was only in front of aunt Maureen though and probably because it was expected. Adam was girl obsessed and spent a lot of time talking to Joel about them when the adults weren't around. It was always in hushed whispers and Joel learnt a few new words. It seemed all the boys his age or a little bit older were suddenly developing an interest in girls. Joel had to admit he would like to see Jodie again. It had been a long time and he felt too awkward just turning up on her doorstep.<br />
<br />
Joel liked Luke best really. He was funny, though Luke's constant antics had worn thin with the rest of his family. Joel only had to put up with it for a week at Christmas so found it hugely entertaining, not least because of the look on auntie Maureen's face. Aunt Maureen gave Luke a withered look almost as if she had given up on the boy. He was clearly not of sound mind.<br />
<br />
A run of bad weather kept the boys confined to the house. It was the typical winter weather all boys hated. Cold and wet. Not cold enough to snow, but too cold to be out in the mixture of sleet and rain. There were other implications. Joel didn't see it happening but his friends were drifting away from him, or he from them. All the boys were changing but the changes in Joel were different due to his alternate circumstances. A break in the weather saw Joel take his cousins to play football. They met up with Jamie and Ashley who were keen to hear about Forester Grammar.<br />
"So what's it like then?" Jamie asked.<br />
"It's rather strange"<br />
"Oh, it's rather strange" Ashley mimicked putting a finger under his nose and lifting it.<br />
"Stuff you" Joel said and dived on Ashley.<br />
"Hark at Little Lord Fauntleroy" Ashley scoffed as the boys rolled around.<br />
<br />
Running out of steam the boys collapsed panting. They started laughing. It was good to be home!<br />
<br />
Ashley did have a point. Joel's accent was changing. Being surrounded by upper class accents at school had rubbed off on Joel, and although the change was minimal, it was noticeable to the village boys. Joel was disappointed he didn't see Jodie. Her house was further away and she stopped going to football when Joel went to Forester. When it was time to go home Joel felt his eyes well up and turned away quickly. Being away from his father was beginning to erode Joel's ability to keep his emotions in check.<br />
<br />
Aunt Maureen bought Joel an encyclopaedia for Christmas that year. It wasn't wrapped and she said he could only have it if he could spell it.<br />
"E-N-C-Y-C-L-O-P-A-E-D-I-A" Joel reeled off quickly.<br />
<br />
He wondered if his aunt thought he was stupid when she seemed surprised how easy it was for him. New Year's Eve was best. The boys were left the house to themselves. With all the alcohol around it was too good an opportunity to miss. Joel had dabbled with Scott but Adam was a boy possessed. They were getting very drunk and thought it would be a good idea to let Charlie have a drink. The parents returned to a comatose Luke, with Adam and Joel trying to clean up Charlie's never ending supply of vomit. It was pointless telling the giggling boys off there and then. Luckily for them the parents saw the funny side and a stern telling off in the morning was all that followed. Joel was thankful his father wasn't home. When the brothers went home Joel was at a loss.<br />
<br />
The weather was still bad and nobody showed up for football, even when it wasn't raining. Christmas was the one time of year food wasn't rationed. The women of the village all had their own Christmas club where they paid a small weekly amount from the beginning of January. By Christmas they each had a tidy sum. There were lots of rabbits to be caught but Joel's father had given Zorro away when he went to boarding school and the animal had since died. It felt like Joel's world was caving in on him as the return to school drew closer. The butterflies began three days before going back and Joel was confined to bed, sick with worry. He didn't want to go back..... ever!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
Joel hated the fact his birthday fell in the first week back at school after the Christmas holidays. It meant he would never escape the dreaded bumps. At least the day-boys whose birthdays were during term times had a chance of them falling on a weekend. The bumps for boarders were different as well. For day-boys it merely involved other boys grabbing arms and legs and heaving the birthday boy up to head height and back down to the ground with a bump. With boarder's bumps the recipient was tossed in a blanket and the 'bump' would be against the ceiling not the floor. Normally bumps would be given by classmates from the same year, but the likes of Harris would take an interest, seeing it as another excuse for inflicting pain. Unfortunately for Joel, proles were largely unaware of blanket tossing and second years often took a hand.<br />
<br />
The grape-vine was red hot and trying to keep birthdays a secret was impossible. Even if Joel had made a secret of it, he would have been found out. There were no secrets at a boarding school. Having seen three boys given the bumps already Joel wasn't worried, and just before lights out he awaited his fate. Thankfully other second years beat Harris to the punch and Joel went meekly to the middle of the dormitory where a blanket had been laid in preparation.<br />
<br />
Joel lay in the blanket without a fuss and four boys picked up the corners. As the blanket went taut Joel was lifted to waist height. Another heave and he felt himself parting company with the blanket. The third heave took him higher. After that Joel was pushing himself off from the ceiling. The main fear was if the blanket wasn't taut on the descent. There were all sorts of schoolboy tales circulating about boys who were left paraplegic after being dropped. Of course nobody could name any of the alleged victims. Oddly enough Joel didn't find the experience unpleasant at all, in fact it was fun. It had made other boys nauseous but the fear-factor was largely responsible.<br />
<br />
As far as school-work was concerned Joel had recovered from a sluggish start and was edging to the top of the class in most subjects. Although French had been a bit of a handicap to start with, as he had no prior tuition like the other boys, Joel soon caught up and was in top three by Easter. Without doubt though maths was Joel's best subject (he hadn't begun German at that stage). History was one subject Joel seemed to have a problem with. For some reason nothing he did was good enough for Dinosaur whose affection towards the boy seemed to fluctuate for no apparent reason.<br />
<br />
One day Joel would be in the good books, the next he would be getting caned for the flimsiest of excuses. Joel didn't know what the problem was or what to do for the best. It could have been the refusal to join the photography class, or even that Dinosaur resented Joel's friendship with star pupil Herman. Whatever reasons Dinosaur had, nine out of ten canings Joel received in that first year were at his hands. Fortunately caning held no fear for Joel and his leather belt hardened buttocks. Six of the best was over very quickly and only left a series of red stripes. Only Harris had managed to draw blood and that was with a tree switch.<br />
<br />
Joel was relatively quiet throughout his whole first year which wasn't a normal character trait. The sheer scale of Forester Grammar, with its lengthy history and quirky traditions, was awe inspiring to a poor kid from a little village. Being a boarder helped Joel academically because there wasn't the distractions of home life and plenty of time was allocated for out of class studies. Things were going as well as could be expected on the whole. He lacked true friendship like he had at home but as yet the canings were sporadic, apart from those off Dinosaur who always found reasons.<br />
<br />
Despite doing well at rugby, Joel was in and out of the school team depending on Dinosaur's mood at the time. The team had a poor season, testimony to Dinosaur's erratic selection methods, but School House won the trophy for the inter-house competition. It was no surprise. School House almost always won. The boys had more of an understanding than the two day-boy houses who only played together as teams on such occasions. More than half the school team were boys from School House.<br />
<br />
The Easter holidays should have been a welcome respite from the trials and tribulations of school and Joel hoped the weather would be better so he could have more time with friends even though Easter was the shortest holiday period. Unfortunately Joel arrived home to bad news. His father was on a ship bound for the Falkland Islands and his mother wasn't taking it well at all. She had started drinking heavily. When she went out for the night Joel would wait nervously for her return. When he saw the taxi pull up outside he ran upstairs and pretended to be asleep. It never worked. As soon as his mother set foot through the door she would go up to his room.<br />
"Hello baby are you asleep?" she would say softly, the light from the hallway illuminating the boy's face.<br />
"Wha-what?" Joel asked as if just waking up:<br />
"I love you; make me proud"<br />
"Yes mum" Joel promised and turned over hoping forlornly that would be the end of the conversation.<br />
"I miss your dad" she said reflectively in slurred tones.<br />
'Wait for it, here it comes' thought Joel. Her mood changed as tears started to flow. Joel recognised the pattern and knew exactly what to expect.<br />
"Don't worry he'll be okay" he said hoping to avert the imminent disaster.<br />
"You don't care; you don't care about anything" she snapped her tone becoming hostile.<br />
Nothing Joel could say would change things so he kept silent hoping it would stop the inevitable. It didn't.<br />
"Why can't you be like your brother?" she asked angrily.<br />
Still Joel didn't react and she started shaking the boy.<br />
"Answer me!" she yelled.<br />
"What do you want me to say?" Joel pleaded, tears now welling up in his eyes.<br />
<br />
It was a wasted question. The blows rained down on Joel and he curled into a ball covering his head with his hands, thankful his mother wasn't as strong as his father. For a few minutes fists hit Joel around the head and back but he had covered up well restricting the damage. It hurt more emotionally than physically.<br />
"Get out! Get out of the house now!" she bawled.<br />
<br />
Joel got out of bed quickly as his mother went to her bedroom sobbing once more. It was a pattern he was to get used to. First would be the love, then the tears, then the anger. Joel would find himself sleeping in the telephone box on the next street. The next morning his mother wouldn't remember anything but she never asked where he had slept. Every chance Joel had he would be out of the house and wouldn't come back until late. He was grounded a couple of times but climbed out of his bedroom window. Joel's mother always found out and he would get a beating then do the same again. He just couldn't be around his mother. She was distraught and Joel felt helpless, unable to make her feel better.<br />
<br />
Going back to school should have been a relief but it just made things worse. It became common knowledge Joel's father was in the Falklands with the task force but there was no sympathy. Quite the reverse.<br />
"I hear the Argies have sunk another ship" a boy would say loud enough for Joel to hear.<br />
<br />
Joel's heart skipped a beat but he remained poker-faced. Whether it was true or not, he knew the boy was trying to upset him and pretended not to care. In the shower room he overheard two boys talking about the sinking. It was true!<br />
"Do you suppose it might be the ship Phillips' father is on?"<br />
"Who knows"<br />
"It would serve him right sending the disgusting little oik to Forester" another added and Joel's blood boiled but he slinked out of the shower room unnoticed.<br />
<br />
Joel knew which boy had said it and waited for him to come back to the dormitory. As the unsuspecting boy approached, Joel lashed out angrily. Not being very big and not yet having developed a mean enough streak to deliberately hurt people, Joel was less than intimidating. Even though he generally bettered the boy he was fighting, Joel seldom did enough damage to put others off. His limited popularity waned further still as the term wore on, and he was constantly fighting. It resulted in frequent visits to Dinosaur's study or that of the Headmaster. When questioned Joel would never give a reason for hitting a boy and teachers regarded him as a trouble-maker.<br />
<br />
The desire for friendship was replaced with one to be simply left alone. He felt like a mouse in a room full of cats, senses constantly on high alert, wondering who would be next to cause him pain. Joel's volatile behaviour didn't discourage the hurtful comments, it just made the boys band together knowing he couldn't fight everyone. He would walk to the far playing fields every lunch time and sob uncontrollably, every day a new threat to body and soul.<br />
<br />
Cricket and athletics took over from rugby, and he excelled at neither. Joel actually hated cricket and tried to avoid it at all costs. It was so boring just sitting around when his side were batting. Even when Joel was put in to bat himself he didn't like it. What fun was there in a boy hurling a leather-clad lump of cork at you at 100 mph?<br />
<br />
Thankfully the Falklands war was over just before the end of term, but the damage was already done. The adverse effect on both Joel's school-work and how he interacted with his peers set him back in several subjects. The exam results weren't as good as Joel was expecting because of the downward spiral leading up to them, but nevertheless he managed to pass everything. Joel excelled at Maths, English and French, but barely scraped History and Latin, the rest were just about average.<br />
<br />
As Joel neared the end of his first year other matters came to the fore. He was slow and naive in sexual matters, Most boys talked of little else but with no friends Joel was never privy to such information. The joy Joel felt as he stepped off the train into the village was like nothing he could remember. It was like a huge weight lifting off his shoulders. His father was still away but with the Falklands conflict over he was safe, and Joel hoped it would mean his mother was in a better mood. Joel's mother was at work when he arrived home and he lifted the doormat to get the hidden key. Everybody hid their key under a doormat or a flower-pot so it seemed a little pointless, but such was the community spirit in the village it didn't matter. Doors could be left unlocked (and often were) without a problem.<br />
<br />
Over the next two years the community would be tested and eroded by outside forces. There was a dark shadow over the village as rumours of pit closures were rife. Margaret Thatcher had the country in a firm grip and her popularity soared as the British fighting spirit rallied around the government over the Falklands crisis. Many forgot the death of the British steel industry just a couple of years before. The uncertainty surrounding the coal mine didn't concern the village boys this summer though. They were too young to worry about their futures and their parents were optimistic closures could be averted, as had happened in the previous decade.<br />
<br />
Joel dropped his case inside the door and ran up the stairs to his bedroom. He practically ripped his school uniform off and flopped back on his bed. Spreading his arms and legs wide he bounced a little revelling in the feeling of the soft blanket and springy mattress. The beds at school had coarse blankets and thin mattresses. Eager to see his friends he had barely seen for a year Joel pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.<br />
<br />
He ran all the way to the football field and wasn't disappointed. All his old friends were there and now had senior status. The younger boys still at primary school looked up to them and the whole balance of power had changed. As secondary school boys Joel and his friends now commanded a respect not previously afforded them. Some of the more sensible younger boys who were in their last year of primary school were allowed to sit with Jamie, Ashley, Xander and co as the boys took a break.<br />
"Flipper!" Ashley shouted when he saw Joel approach.<br />
<br />
It gave Joel such a lift to hear the nickname again and the genuine warmth of the greeting. Joel went and sat with the boys who chattered away excitedly. It was disappointing in some respects. The other boys wanted to hear all about boarding school and what went on but it was the last thing Joel wanted to talk about. He wanted to hear what his friends had been doing but they saw each other every day and it was old news. Thankfully the boys started playing football and Joel joined in having successfully avoided answering most of the questions. After the game the boys sat down to talk again.<br />
"Where is Scott?" Joel asked and the others frowned.<br />
"He's lost the plot" Ashley laughed.<br />
"Umm, what about that girl .....and her brother?" he asked as casually as possible.<br />
"Jodie? Haven't seen her"<br />
<br />
Joel hadn't really expected to see Scott because he was never keen on football anyway and lived furthest from the field. Scott's temper had become a real problem and he was always fighting at school, even getting suspended for throwing a chair at a teacher. Joel desperately wanted to see Scott but didn't want to call on him suspecting brother Mart could be a cause of Scott's problems.<br />
"Alan broke his leg in two places coming off his bike" Mattie said explaining the boy's absence.<br />
"Colleen still loves you, she likes posh boys" Ashley put in mischievously and Joel jumped on him.<br />
"I'll show you posh" Joel growled jocularly as the boys rolled around on the grass.<br />
"All pile on!" Xander shouted and the other boys jumped on top of the wrestling boys in a heap.<br />
<br />
'It was great to be back home' Joel thought as he struggled for breath under the weight of half a dozen boys.<br />
The boys settled down again and talked about the World Cup that was going on in Spain. England needed to win against the hosts to qualify for the semi-finals and everyone was optimistic. Joel was more interested in recapturing the remnants of his childhood that had been stifled so badly at Forester.<br />
"Let's go camping" Joel suggested hopefully, but Jamie didn't look keen.<br />
"We can camp by Witches Lake because it don't cost anything" he added trying to drum up support.<br />
<br />
The boys argued for and against before deciding to camp at Witches Lake. It wouldn't be the same without Alan, Scott, and Jodie, but was perhaps it was for the best. The others might notice Joel's obvious interest in the girl and tease him. Nathan couldn't camp with them because he wasn't allowed to stay out overnight, but a couple of the younger boys wanted to go.<br />
<br />
Most weren't keen on the younger boys accompanying them in case there was trouble or an accident, the older boys would always get the blame. In the end it was decided Joseph and Lawrence could go because although they were in a different year at school, they were only a few months younger than some of the others. Arrangements were made and Joel said he would go and see how Alan was feeling.<br />
<br />
Joel noticed Nathan had been quiet the whole time as the boys chattered away incessantly. He looked a shadow of the boy Joel knew from last summer. Mattie and Xander looked after him the best they could but the dark circles round his eyes were evidence of problems at home. Joel wanted to put a reassuring arm on the boy's shoulder wondering if he had told the others about his step-father.<br />
<br />
Alan's mother answered the door and sent Joel upstairs. Alan was laid on top of his bed a big plaster cast running almost the full length of one leg. Joel looked at it and the names scribbled on the white plaster where all the other boys had signed it. They had all used their nicknames and some wrote coarse stuff. One had even drawn a rude picture and Alan saw Joel looking at it.<br />
"That was Ashley, mum went mad when she saw it and wanted to scribble it out but dad laughed so I was allowed to keep it" he explained and passed Joel a black marker pen.<br />
"Suppose this means it's my turn next then" Joel said gloomily as he remembered how they each seemed to take turns at getting hurt.<br />
"You'll be okay, the cast doesn't come off for another month" Alan laughed as Joel added his nickname to the others.<br />
"We're going camping in a couple of days" Joel ventured.<br />
"Where are we going?"<br />
"You can't go like that"<br />
"Wanna bet?"<br />
<br />
Joel looked at his friend and laughed. He certainly had guts. Alan's mother came into the room with a couple of glasses of squash and a cheese sandwich each.<br />
"I'm going camping mum" Alan stated rather than asked.<br />
"No you're not!" she said looking horrified and Joel was a little relieved.<br />
"Let the boy go, it'll do him good to get out of the house. You fuss him too much" Alan's father said as he appeared in the doorway.<br />
<br />
A debate followed between the parents and finally Alan's mother relented as Joel gave his assurances the boy would be well looked after. How the hell they would get Alan to Witches Lake was a mystery but at least there were a couple of days to think about it. An hour later Joel said he had to go home and rose to leave, he still had another call to make before he went home. He headed for Jodie's house.<br />
"Come in, they are in the play-room" the twins' mother told Joel.<br />
<br />
Joel walked in with a beaming smile. Jodie's eyes lit up and she hugged Joel catching him a little off-guard. She looked different but the same. It didn't seem like Jodie was going to let go and Joel had to ease her back. The warmth of her greeting made Joel feel funny inside and he was embarrassed. Only Jodie could make him feel that way.<br />
<br />
Questions came thick and fast, Joel enjoying the attention the twins heaped on him. He was careful not to mention the camping at Witches Lake knowing Jodie would want to go. He wanted her to go but Jodie was more obviously a girl now and her presence would be too restrictive for the boys. Joel enjoyed talking to the siblings, they were far more attentive and willing to listen than his rowdy friends. It made Joel open up a bit more and he told of his misfortune at having to go to Forester.<br />
<br />
Keeping a watchful eye on the time Joel reluctantly said he had to go and was rewarded with another hug off Jodie. She gave him a peck on the cheek making Joel blush instantly. How he hated and loved that all at the same time.<br />
"Perhaps you can come and sleep-over one night" Jodie suggested and there was something in her tone Joel couldn't quite fathom.<br />
"Love to, if I'm allowed" he promised.<br />
<br />
Joel went home and quickly built a fire before his mother came home. It seemed a shame to build a fire in summer but it was necessary for hot water. He took the rubbish out, refilled the coal scuttle, and chopped some more kindling. Joel enjoyed doing all this, a year ago it was a chore and a time consuming burden, but now it was a symbol of normality. When Joel's mother came home she cooked dinner whilst he had a bath. He lingered in the bath a long time. It was the first bath he had since the Easter holidays. At school the only bath was in sick-bay and Joel had forgotten how relaxing it could be. Showers were quicker and easier but he needed a bath to soak away the ills of Forester Grammar.<br />
<br />
His mother made stew and dumplings, something else he missed at the boarding school. It had been his staple diet but not once had it been served as a school-dinner. Joel liked his mother's stews because they lasted three or four days and could always be added to. It also meant that Joel could tuck in anytime he wanted. Now the Falklands war was over Joel's mother did seem happier but wouldn't truly be at peace until his father returned. Joel wondered if she still drank as much on Bingo nights and was glad he would be camping on the next one. It was better to sleep in a tent with friends than in a telephone box alone.<br />
<br />
After dinner Joel went and played football. It felt good not being one of the youngest anymore. How different it was from school. Younger boys were ridiculed, teased ,and tormented at school, but in the village they were encouraged and looked after, albeit in a somewhat patronising fashion. Joel told his friends about the initiations at school.<br />
"If someone wiped their bum on my face, I'd bite it" Ashley snarled and Joel didn't doubt he would.<br />
"They just do that to the day-boys" Joel said, sorry he had mentioned it.<br />
<br />
Everybody at school accepted the initiations as normal, it didn't occur to Joel the practises at Forester were a world apart from the experiences of his friends at secondary school. Joel clammed up again. He thought he was in danger of becoming further distanced from his village friends if he told too much of what went on. Joel began to feel he didn't belong anywhere. He certainly didn't belong at Forester and without him knowing it, Joel's attitudes were changing towards village life.<br />
<br />
Camping in the woods, swimming in the lake, and tickling a couple of trout would be just the tonic Joel needed as he felt his childhood slipping away. Forester was making him grow up before he felt he should. Sleeping under the stars with no adults and no rules, was so liberating and invigorating. Nothing else made him feel so alive.<br />
<br />
The boys found an old pram and went to call on Alan. He was a bit big for the pram and it must have looked funny to anybody watching as the boys made their way to the woods, pushing a twelve year old with a broken leg in a pram. The boys took the road way to the woods to make it easier to push the pram and it turned out to be a wise decision when they eventually had to cut across the fields. They had barely gone a hundred metres when pushing the pram became almost impossible. Alan walked a while on crutches having abandoned the pram but was far too slow so the boys took it in turns to carry him.<br />
"It'll be dark before we get there" Ashley moaned.<br />
"Rubbish, it don't get dark until half past nine" Mattie replied.<br />
<br />
Ashley had a tendency to complain but he did have a point. The boys were only camping one night and there would be no playing on the swings or swimming in the lake if they arrived too late. Alan wasn't the biggest boy but the plaster cast made it awkward to carry him. Another problem was getting trout. Alan was second only to Mattie when it came to trout tickling and Joel's one success was probably a fluke.<br />
"You'll have to get us all a trout" Joel said to Mattie.<br />
"I can still get some" Alan assured the others.<br />
"What if Potter sees you, it's not like you can run and I'm not carrying you with Potter shooting at my butt" Joel said.<br />
<br />
It had been so long since the last camping trip the boys hadn't prepared well. None had brought food from home and they would go hungry unless they caught some trout, or managed to trap a pheasant.<br />
"We should have brought a ferret" Xander grumbled and Jamie nodded.<br />
"It's the wrong time of year for rabbits, they'll still be full of milk and taste like crap" Mattie snorted.<br />
"We should have gone to the beach and camped out again, except Jamie would stink the tent out" Ashley said.<br />
"You're the one with mucky hands" Joel laughed remembering the spring onion trick.<br />
<br />
Ashley jumped on him and the two boys wrestled around.<br />
"Stop messing about you two" Mattie said irritation in his voice.<br />
<br />
Ashley and Joel looked at each other then at Mattie. They came to a silent agreement and Mattie saw the look on the boys' faces. He started to back away as they stood up. They lunged at him and he tried to run off. It was no good, they caught him easily and pinned him down. Joel looked at Ashley as they sat on Mattie.<br />
"Elephants and ants?" he suggested but Ashley shook his head seeing they were on ploughed ground.<br />
"Dirty knickers" he said.<br />
"No, don't..... Pleaaassssee!!" Mattie howled as both boys took handfuls of the dry earth and shoved them inside his pants.<br />
<br />
The others laughed as Mattie's pants were filled with dirt. Ashley and Joel let him up and Mattie took his earth swollen pants off to shake them out.<br />
"I HAVE to go swimming now" Mattie grumbled as the boys started walking again.<br />
Joel picked up one of the tents to carry, looked at his friends and smiled. He wondered what the boys at Forester would make of the scene.<br />
<br />
Mattie and Joel veered off from the other boys deciding to risk Potter's Pond, everybody else carried on ahead to Witches Lake. They needed trout otherwise it would just be potatoes to eat later. Mattie would have to work hard to feed all the boys and the longer they were there the greater the chance of being shot. To the boys it was an acceptable risk and there was never any question whether they should report Potter for shooting at them. Nor would they tell their parents because no sympathy would have been forthcoming. The boys were trespassing and poaching, a pellet up the backside was far better than being arrested by the police and the prospect of a beating at home.<br />
<br />
Joel usually kept an eye out while Mattie and Alan tickled the trout, but with Alan incapacitated it meant he had to try and catch some himself. The boys approached the pond crawling on their bellies through an area of long grass. They dipped their hands in the water and upturned their fingers waggling them invitingly for the trout. It took a little longer than usual before Mattie whisked his first one onto the bank. Joel could feel the trout's belly on his fingertips but his 'strike' was either too slow or too premature. Mattie scooped two more out.<br />
<br />
There was a little splash in the water and Joel looked at it wondering what was the cause. A few seconds later there was another one.<br />
"Did you see that?" he asked Mattie.<br />
"See what?"<br />
"Oww!!" Joel howled as he suddenly realised what caused the splashes when a pellet hit his arm.<br />
<br />
The boys had been caught completely off-guard and jumped up. Mattie bent over to pick up two of the fish and Joel grabbed the other.<br />
"Ouch!" Mattie yelped his backside having provided Potter with a perfect target.<br />
<br />
Joel laughed as the boys fled the scene of the crime but his mirth was short lived as another pellet hit him in the small of the back. It was always funny when somebody else was shot, like when playing war with the pistols, but it wasn't pleasant being on the receiving end. The boys were out of range before Potter could register any more hits.<br />
"I swear he's getting better" Joel grumbled as he rubbed the red dot on his arm.<br />
"Bet he practises" Mattie agreed.<br />
"He got me in the back as well, where did he get you?"<br />
"Right in the crack, a bit lower and I'd be pooping it out" Mattie replied and both boys laughed at the thought.<br />
<br />
They only managed three fish, it wouldn't even be half each between the eight boys,<br />
"We'll have to get some spuds as well"<br />
<br />
The boys had made slow progress hampered by Alan but were swimming and playing on the swings by the time Mattie and Joel showed up. Jamie sat with Alan who wasn't allowed to get his plaster cast wet.<br />
"Is that it?" Jamie asked disappointed.<br />
"I got shot TWICE" Joel said annoyed at the ingratitude.<br />
"And I got shot right in the crack" Mattie added.<br />
<br />
There was still plenty of time before it got dark and the boys who had been swimming gathered around looking at the meagre haul.<br />
"You lot can get some spuds and onions since we got the fish" Joel said.<br />
"I'll get some wood for a fire" Jamie said quickly, so he didn't have to walk so far.<br />
<br />
Joseph and Lawrence hadn't camped with the others before and were happy to go with Ashley and Xander. Joel and Mattie put the tents up while Jamie gathered some wood. It was far easier than when camping at the beach because it was everywhere. The boys stayed up long into the night. Joseph, Lawrence, and Alan ate the trout. The younger boys because they never had one before, and Alan because he was injured. The other boys made do with potatoes.<br />
<br />
The next day they played in the lake briefly but hunger took over and they made the long slow trek home, bellies aching. The summer holidays were by far the longest but they came and went all too quickly for Joel, and the last week saw the butterflies come back. Joel tried to convince his mother not to send him back on the grounds his father would be coming home soon, but it was to no avail. It would mean it would be a whole year without seeing his father.<br />
<br />
At least Joel could go back to Forester with his batteries re-charged, it was just as well with what lay in store.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-73164692229600274432016-12-11T20:12:00.000+00:002019-01-27T23:38:52.289+00:00ADC.08<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEVLak2z0JROQcXX4yOHMB1HLdNPCJ-T0QOxb-PAdI2fEos-dZ1nHIqF2BanwMgMDXJbIYqzsstuDdGCqsnJmRfl6PXfPRy74EIkqvRLzHMkHHWiaZAhQgxd4xJbJk2au3pCf_lA8ETSo8/s1600/front8.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEVLak2z0JROQcXX4yOHMB1HLdNPCJ-T0QOxb-PAdI2fEos-dZ1nHIqF2BanwMgMDXJbIYqzsstuDdGCqsnJmRfl6PXfPRy74EIkqvRLzHMkHHWiaZAhQgxd4xJbJk2au3pCf_lA8ETSo8/s1600/front8.png" /></a><b><u>8. Slippery Slope</u></b><br />
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: #741b47;">'Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you' - Friedrich Nietzsche</span></i></b></div>
<br />
Joel's last true summer of childhood was over. It is sad for a child to realise that at just twelve years old. When Joel's mother proudly presented him with his new school uniform he should have been pleased, but instead frowned at the thought of school. Joel was actually quite happy because they were the first clothes he hadn't inherited off his older brother, and what's more the trousers were black like those of the other boys. Perhaps it would stop the references to being a tramp, homeless, and poverty stricken.<br />
<br />
Harris would now be a senior in Joel's boarding house on the return to school and guardian angel Dixon would have left altogether. Joel hoped the new Sheps would be strong enough to deal with Harris and his cronies. Secretly Joel selfishly hoped Harris would find a new prole to pick on as a softer target, he was ashamed at the thought. Would Joel have the decency to come to such a boy's aid as Herman had with him, or would he turn and look the other way as so many other boys had.<br />
<br />
Dinosaur would still be Housemaster and rugby coach for Joel's year, but at least he would no longer be the form master. Hopefully by signing up for the photography class, Joel could curry favour with Dinosaur and maybe get some protection against Harris. It would be a shame because Joel had enjoyed the orienteering, which in truth was just preparation for the mandatory joining of the SCF in the third year. The School Cadet Force was the school's own mini army and was really quite exciting in some respects, especially to a young teen. Everybody <i>had</i> to join in their third year and remain for at least the duration of that year. Afterwards it was optional whether to continue or not. It was the school equivalent of National Service designed to instill discipline, but it was to have the reverse effect on Joel.<br />
<br />
Trying to draw some positives from going back to school, Joel thought how it would be fun initiating the new batch of proles. He promised himself he would never behave like Harris though. Joel had conspired on the last day of term with Herman and Kramer on what to bring back to school. He had a bag of flour stashed in his case.<br />
<br />
The fateful day finally arrived when Joel had to return to school and the butterflies were flapping for all they were worth. His mother waved tearfully as he left, lugging the heavy case to the bus stop. It took longer by bus and anything that would delay the inevitable was most welcome. Joel's eyes welled up, not because he was leaving his mother or friends, he just didn't want to go back to school. What a contrast to primary school when he couldn't wait to go back.<br />
<br />
As Joel arrived at the school gates he immediately saw Carrots. With his size and shock of red hair, Carrots was easy to pick out in a crowd. Standing next to him was Kramer. Kramer and two other boys were making derogatory comments at each prole as they walked past, the silent Carrots just there for muscle. When he saw Joel, Kramer called out:<br />
"Come and join us, these proles don't look like they have any balls!" he laughed.<br />
"Maybe later, I need to get rid of my bag" Joel called back with a smile.<br />
<br />
Kramer's reference reminded Joel how they had crouched in the bush to watch their fellow proles getting humiliated, as indeed they had just been themselves. It all seemed so long ago now. Joel had no intention of going back to Kramer who was being pretty mean, almost reducing several nervous proles to tears. It concerned Joel that Kramer might turn into another Harris. At least Kramer had spoken to Joel in a friendly manner, never a bad thing when he was one of the most popular boys in their year.<br />
<br />
For the second time now Joel had more or less snubbed Kramer and he really needed all the friends he could get. Seeing Harris pushing some little kid around, Joel gave the bully a wide berth so as not to be noticed. Joel was still in the Lodge as was Harris, but this year he was out of the main dormitory and would be assigned a room to share with two others from his year.<br />
<br />
Looking at the notice board in the Lodge, Joel saw he would be sharing with Willy and Dean. Joel liked Willy who had imparted snippets of information on occasion. He was very quiet like Herman but always acknowledged Joel, and didn't tease him for his appearance. Dean was still a little sour from the incident with Harris, but having not had any more problems from the bully he was less hostile. Willy and Dean were already in the room unpacking when Joel walked in. Both greeted him although Dean's greeting was more of a grunt. As Joel unpacked, Willy saw the bag of flour and grinned. He then produced his own bag of flour and six eggs. Dean rolled his eyes.<br />
"Initiations are stupid" he snorted in disgust.<br />
"Just a bit of fun Dean" Willy said.<br />
"It's no fun if you are caught at the front!" Dean retorted sourly.<br />
<br />
Dean was a game lad but unfortunately, like Joel, not very big. When they were bombarded in the showers, Dean was right near the entrance. He had tried frantically to squeeze through some of the other boys but was blocked by a solid wall of wet skin, too slippery to man-handle out of the way. As a result Dean took more than his fair share of direct hits. Perhaps it was why he was so upset by the incident with Harris in the woods.<br />
<br />
It was debatable whether the sting of the eggs hitting bare flesh was better or worse than the bruising thud of a full bag of flour, but Joel thought better than to ask Dean his opinion. It might rub salt in the wounds and seem like a taunt. Joel decided to open his bag of flour before he threw it, at least it would soften the blow by allowing the flour to escape without the bag having to split on impact.<br />
<br />
Assembly felt slightly different for Joel, better. As a second year he was no longer right at the front of the hall. With a line of proles separating Joel and his fellow second years from the stage, it felt comforting being partially obscured from the view of the teachers. When the new day boys arrived on the Monday morning there would be three rows in front of them which was even better. After assembly the second years and to a lesser extent the third years, hurried back to the boarding house to prepare their ammunition for the showers. All the doors to the second and third year rooms were open so they could see the proles nervously undressing for the showers. As the last proles left the main dormitory, the older boys emerged from their rooms armed to the teeth, and hurried after them.<br />
<br />
When Joel approached the shower room the mayhem was already in full swing. He waited patiently and was one of the last in line to offload his parcel. Joel saw the look on the faces of the boys at the front of the showers. One or two appeared to be crying and the others looked genuinely frightened. He thought about what Dean had said and as Joel struggled with his conscience, his hesitation hadn't gone unnoticed.<br />
<br />
Harris shoved Joel hard in the back and as he lurched towards the proles Joel tripped over the raised entrance to the showers. He was catapulted forward falling among the proles, Joel's hands spread out to steady himself. The wet, slippery skin of the proles did nothing to slow Joel's descent and he hit the shower floor hard splitting his forehead open. It sparked mass panic among the proles who stampeded out of the showers. Joel was trodden on, kicked and kneed in the ensuing melee. His head hit the floor a couple more times then it all went dark.<br />
"You are an ass Harris" Herman said angrily.<br />
"Careful Herman" Harris warned "you are still a prole to me and I would be careful with whom you choose to make an allegiance"<br />
"I've a mind to report you to the Housemaster"<br />
"Ah yes, Dinosaur. Don't think your special relationship has gone unnoticed" Harris taunted and Herman flew at the bully, fists flailing.<br />
<br />
Tyrell and Stone stepped in but Willy saved Herman.<br />
"Stop it!" Willy yelled "We need to get Phillips to matron, he looks bad"<br />
"What is going on?" the new Shep demanded as he stepped into the shower room.<br />
<br />
Harris looked at the Shep contemptuously but turned and walked away without a word. Joel was groggy but moving. A bump was already rising under the small half inch cut on his forehead. For such a little cut there was an awful lot of blood, or at least seemed to be as it mixed with the shower water. Joel hadn't been unconscious for more than a few seconds but he was dazed and disorientated. One thing being knocked cold did do, was make Joel sleepy. His head nodded as Herman, Willy, and the Shep hauled him to his feet. Joel just wanted to be left alone, the cold water splashing against his face felt good. He remembered nothing of being carried to the sick bay as the darkness came back.<br />
<br />
'Well I managed to beat my record I suppose' Joel thought as he finally opened his eyes. It had only taken a few hours before he needed medical attention this year. When Joel woke up again Herman was stood looking over him with concern. He saw Joel's eyes open and shouted:<br />
"He's waking up Matron!"<br />
"This can't be heaven you're too ugly to be an angel" Joel said with eyes half open.<br />
"That's certainly not where you will go when you expire" Herman snorted.<br />
Joel laughed, then grimaced, as his head pounded.<br />
"The doctor will be here in a minute" Matron said a little relieved as she entered the room.<br />
<br />
Still drying her hands, she looked into Joel's eyes then at the clumsily applied butterfly stitches on his forehead. Kindly as Matron was, lacerations were not her speciality. The blood-flow which had waned to a trickle began to gush again when she agitated the area by trying to tidy up the stitches. The poor old girl shook like a leaf when she initially put them on. The butterfly stitches were merely sticky plasters designed to hold the two sides of the wound together, and they came off due to the blood moistening the area.<br />
<br />
She brought a couple of fresh ones in but unaware Joel didn't actually feel any pain (apart from an accompanying headache), Matron tried to apply the new stitches as gently as possible. Sensing her trepidation Joel suggested he put them on himself and Matron fetched a mirror. Joel sat up in the sick-bay bed and Matron held the mirror. She was still shaking a little and Joel's attempt was equally as clumsy, he was confused working with a mirror image.<br />
"My, my, you are in the wars" Matron soothed, then to Herman "Go and get the boy some dry clothes"<br />
<br />
Joel's wet clothes had been removed and Herman trotted back to the Lodge as instructed. He came back with a change of clothes but Joel noticed immediately the trousers weren't his. The only spare pair Joel had were the grey ones.<br />
"I couldn't find any trousers in your locker so I brought you a spare pair of mine" Herman lied.<br />
<br />
Herman was being kind. Those grey trousers were the source of much ridicule for Joel in his first year. Matron left the room to let the boy change.<br />
"Where are my other clothes?" Joel asked.<br />
"I put them in the drying room for you, they were sopping wet" Willy replied.<br />
"Yes Matron said we should take them off in case you caught cold, but she did insist on taking your underpants off herself" Herman smirked and Joel's eyes widened.<br />
"No she didn't" Willy said in his usual no nonsense manner "I took them off, Matron left the room"<br />
<br />
Willy didn't do teasing or lying, he was an odd boy in some ways, but his honour couldn't be questioned. Joel was dressed and sat on the edge of the bed when Matron came back in. She looked the boy over after ushering Herman and Willy out.<br />
"I suppose you fell over like last year" Matron said with a knowing look.<br />
"With a little help" Joel couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone.<br />
"If there is anything you want to tell me..." Matron said letting her words trail off.<br />
"I'll be fine" Joel assured her and smiled.<br />
<br />
The doctor then came in and looked at the stitches with disbelief.<br />
"Who put these on?" he demanded.<br />
"I-I did" Joel answered nervously thinking he was in trouble.<br />
"What? You mean you had to put your own stitches on?"<br />
<br />
The doctor was incredulous but kept silent as he moved a pencil in front of Joel's eyes, asking him to follow its path without moving his head. Joel had a mild concussion, not for the first nor last time. The doctor turned to Matron.<br />
"Make sure he stays awake until bedtime and he should be fine, is there someone who can sit with him"<br />
"I'm sure I can find someone" Matron assured the doctor.<br />
<br />
Matron asked Herman to spend some time with Joel to keep him awake. The doctor would return on Monday but Joel was to remain in sick bay until then. Joel was crest-fallen. He would miss the pole-fights over the pool once again. His competitive spirit yearned to try his strength.<br />
<br />
Joel and Herman talked at great length as they sat on the bed playing cards. It was eye-opener for Joel who generally despised the rich kids he had been thrust among. For all Joel's beatings at home he knew he was loved and cared for. Many of the boarders at Forester were packed off there for convenience. They had no real friends where they lived and many had comparatively loveless lives. In a somewhat ironic twist Joel felt sorry for the very boys who mocked him for being poor. His family might sometimes struggle to put food on the table, and he might not have much in the way of material things, but it dawned on Joel he was far wealthier when it came to the most important thing of all.... love.<br />
<br />
After Herman eventually left, Joel had time to collect his thoughts. His mind drifted back to two days earlier and playing football with his friends. His summer of joy was well and truly over.<br />
<br />
The initial mishap over with, Joel settled into the school routine again quite quickly. It was obvious Harris would get pretty much his own way this year. The Sheps were a weak bunch and just wanted a quiet time. That didn't bode well for Joel. Once again he was thankful of Herman's loyalty.<br />
"I've signed up for photography" Joel told the only boy he could come close to calling a friend.<br />
"You idiot!"<br />
<br />
It wasn't the reaction Joel was expecting, he thought Herman would be pleased.<br />
"This will be your third year it can't be that bad!" Joel suggested.<br />
<br />
After rugby which was a double period on a Wednesday (and the only day the boys didn't have afternoon registration), school was finished and the day boys could go home after showers. When the last of the teachers left, a contraband football would be produced and the boarders trotted over to the far field. It was always the far field because a teacher could be seen coming from far off and the boys would run into the trees at the start of the cross-country course to avoid being caught.<br />
<br />
One or two proles would appear, just as Herman and Joel had done the previous year, and would watch or act as ball boys. Sometimes if the sides were uneven, one might be invited to play as goalkeeper, a position nobody seemed to relish. As the second years set up the goals with one side's shirts, one of the proles started juggling a ball. Everybody stared as he effortlessly kept the ball in the air. His name was Richards and he was immediately invited to play. Richards wasn't just about tricks either, he was more than a match for more than half of the second years.<br />
<br />
At half-time some of the boys lit up cigarettes. Joel last smoked a cigarette with Scott over a year ago. It seemed a waste of money but when Richards offered him a cigarette he took it, more to show he could smoke if he wanted to. Herman didn't smoke and nobody else would offer Joel one, obviously Richards didn't realise Joel wasn't the most popular boy in his year. Smoking was still thought to be 'pretty cool' in a rebellious sort of way and was widespread throughout the school.<br />
<br />
On the way back to the Lodge the boys took a shortcut through the copse where the assault course was. They walked right into Harris, Tyrell, and Stone, who themselves had been smoking under cover of the trees. They were standing by the hoist and Harris recognised Richards. Harris, Tyrell, and Stone had been involved in the 'got balls' initiation and it was only the calming influence of other third years that stopped things getting out of hand. Richards stood out because of his complete lack of a reaction. Neither fear nor humiliation, and that irked Harris.<br />
"Prole! Get yourself over to this hoist, now!" Harris demanded.<br />
"I believe I have already had that pleasure sir" Richards responded as cool as you like.<br />
"Do not argue with me, just get here!" ordered Harris annoyed by Richards' insolent manner.<br />
"If you want to see my balls again why not just ask?" Richards' tone was mocking and the other boys laughed.<br />
<br />
Harris went red with rage and moved towards Richards menacingly. Herman and Joel stepped forward in unison, blocking Harris' path. Several of the football boys behind them stood their ground as well. Harris thought better of it.<br />
"This matter is by no means done and dusted" Harris said threateningly but turned away, followed by his cronies.<br />
<br />
Joel felt sorry for Richards because the boy didn't know what he had let himself in for. Nothing seemed to faze him. He was comparatively slight in build albeit of a similar size to Joel, but there was a confident air about him. Had he not been a prole, Joel would have spent more time with him from the onset. Richards was quite a strange in many respects, but Joel thought the same of most boys at Foresters. He liked the fact Richards had stood up for himself, it reminded Joel of his friends in the village. Richards was always invited to play football from that day and he had taken a shine to Herman and Joel for intervening with Harris.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
Joel had heard all the rumours about the boys from the local Comprehensive but they all stemmed from a long time before. Forester boys had long since learned to go into town in groups and apart from verbal abuse there was little or no confrontation. The worst thing of course was when a boy sneaked out of school grounds as Joel was prone to do. With no others from Forester around town and the uniform a dead give-away, it was the time when Joel (or others) were most vulnerable.<br />
<br />
Just happy to get out of school, Joel often sneaked out alone. He wondered about the local boys. If they hated the boys from Forester so much they couldn't be all bad. Joel stupidly believed he could make friends with some of the local boys. He underestimated the loathing felt towards his school uniform. His upbringing didn't count, he was one of them in essence, but his uniform said otherwise. The hatred may have been to the upper-class accents, a by-product of wealth, or the arrogance a lot of Forester boys displayed. They had a tendency to look down their nose at anyone and everyone. Joel didn't blame the local boys for their prejudices.<br />
<br />
One evening Joel slipped away after dinner and went to the park on his own. It had rained earlier but cleared up by the time Joel left the school grounds. There were only two boys in the park to begin with and Joel would have gone to talk to them but they were older and gave him a funny look. Soon the park started filling up with kids of all ages and Joel looked for someone to approach. He saw a boy on his own who looked to be a similar age. Joel approached the boy. When the boy saw Joel coming he turned round and hurriedly walked the other way. Turning back Joel saw six or seven boys walking towards him.<br />
<br />
There was something not quite right about their demeanour and Joel had a bad feeling. He turned away, suddenly nervous. Joel had only walked a couple of paces when he was grabbed by the shoulders and spun around. The biggest of the boys looked at him.<br />
"Where are you going little girl?" he asked mockingly.<br />
"I'm a boy" Joel responded with as much confidence as he could muster.<br />
"Boys that like boys are the same as girls" he scoffed.<br />
<br />
Joel wanted to argue but the atmosphere was hostile and he was scared. He tried to turn and walk away but the other boys had surrounded him and he was pushed back into the middle.<br />
"What do you want?" he asked truculently.<br />
"We wanna see yer tits" one of the other boys said laughing.<br />
"I told you, I'm a boy" Joel said still defiant.<br />
"We'd best see then" the biggest boy said and lunged at Joel.<br />
<br />
They all grabbed Joel and started tugging at his clothes. He struggled but there were too many and he lost his blazer, trousers and a shoe before hearing a voice.<br />
"Leave him alone!"<br />
<br />
Three older girls had seen what was happening and came to Joel's rescue. The boys laughed and trotted off with their booty.<br />
"Ha ha, you girls stick together!" the ringleader shouted back.<br />
<br />
The local lads threw Joel's clothes into a puddle and jumped on them, two of the girls chased the boys off. They retrieved Joel's clothes for him.<br />
"Your clothes are soaking wet" one girl said passing them to Joel.<br />
<br />
It was uncomfortable putting his trousers back on but he was self-conscious standing in front of the older girls in just his underpants.<br />
"You can come back to my house and my mum'll wash them for you if you want" one girl offered.<br />
"I can't. I shouldn't even be out and have to get back quick" Joel explained.<br />
"Shame, you're kinda cute" the girl said and kissed Joel on the cheek making him blush.<br />
<br />
It almost brought a tear as Joel was reminded of Jodie, it was the last time he had blushed and though it made him feel uncomfortable, it was nice as well. It seemed in just about every situation Joel's thoughts always turned to the village.<br />
<br />
The girls walked him back to the school to make sure he didn't get ambushed and they promised to look out for him again. Joel went straight to the showers to wash his trousers and blazer whilst showering. Putting the clothes in the drying room, he hoped they would be dry by morning. He still had the grey pair of trousers as spare but didn't have another blazer. Joel went up to the dormitory as if just having showered and was relieved nobody had missed him. The experience put Joel off going into town on his own for a while. There were other repercussions. The next day Joel looked even scruffier than normal, his blazer was a creased up mess and he had lost two of the three buttons.<br />
"My God, do we allow tramps in the school now?" one boy said to a friend.<br />
<br />
The boy had said it quietly but Joel heard the comment. It was all too much for Joel and he hit the boy hard splitting his eyebrow open. The boy fell over but it was a delayed reaction. It was when he saw the blood, and probably fainted as opposed to being knocked out by Joel. It made no difference.<br />
"Headmaster's study after breakfast Phillips, get up Duggan and go and see Matron" Herrn said without emotion as he surveyed the scene.<br />
<br />
Herrn was the German teacher whom was unjustly referred to as 'Herrn'. It was with reference to Herr (Mr.) and the fact that weak masculine nouns are given an 'n' in the German language, implying the teacher was a weak masculine. Herrn was a smoker. He had made a point of finding every hiding place and he patrolled them. Smoking was punishable by six of the best and the cigarettes were confiscated and destroyed. Herrn would catch boys smoking but would just confiscate the cigarettes and gloat, especially if he caught a boy with a nearly full packet. At least the boys didn't get the beating but it was annoying nevertheless. For reasons unknown, Herrn hated Dinosaur and did little to hide it.<br />
<br />
The feud between the two schools had been going on a long time but for Joel it had become personal and he wouldn't forget the older local boy in a hurry. If he had any sense, Joel would have put the incident behind him and considered himself lucky the girls were there to save him. As you've probably guessed by now, Joel had a crappy attitude even before circumstances were to conspire to make it worse. It was to be quite a while before he was to get a chance of revenge on the Comprehensive boys, out of school hours. In the meantime, there was another way he could gain some satisfaction.<br />
<br />
The Comprehensive school had only recently started playing rugby because like most schools, football was the number one sport. It meant they were relatively inexperienced, unlike the Forester boys whose number one sport was rugby. Joel's anger at the boys who humiliated him in the park was to be vented on the rugby field. Unfortunately it was against boys his own age and not the ones who attacked him, but it would do for now. The feud between the schools simmered but never boiled over. In time to come Joel was to be instrumental in changing all that.<br />
<br />
Joel didn't understand what all the fuss was about with the photography club. Dinosaur was quite pleasant and relaxed, in stark contrast to his History lessons where he seemed to look for any excuse to punish someone. There were only eight boys signed up which Joel thought low, Dinosaur was not a popular teacher.<br />
<br />
Being the History teacher it was perhaps expected that Dinosaur would recreate historical poses. Generally the boys would dress up in historical costumes borrowed from the drama group and Dinosaur would choreograph poses. It was a lot of fun dressing up then taking turns using the cameras. Joel wondered why Herman had a problem with Dinosaur. He seemed to get preferential treatment. Perhaps it was because he always had to stay behind to put away and lock up the equipment. Surely it wasn't that hard. Joel thought about volunteering to stay behind and help. Herman went mad when Joel suggested it. He was hard to fathom sometimes.<br />
<br />
Bullying at boarding school was far worse than at other schools because the victim has to be constantly on their guard. They couldn't go home for some respite like day-boys did. Today bullies can take their malice into a victim's home via some social networking site but a computer can be switched off. Unfortunately for Joel, his nemesis Harris didn't have an on / off switch. Harris caught Joel coming back from the dining hall alone. Tyrell and Stone grabbed the boy on the urging of Harris and held his arms. Harris hit Joel in the stomach three times and the boy doubled over in pain.<br />
"No cuts nor bruises to show this time" Harris said smirking as he turned away and Joel struggling for wind thought it was over.<br />
"Oh, I nearly forgot..." Harris said suddenly and turning back lashed out with his foot.<br />
<br />
His foot connected with the delicate area between Joel's legs. Joel was unable to suppress the cry of pain as he sank to the ground. He lay there holding himself, unable to move. The pain eventually subsided and Joel rose to his feet determined to be more careful in future. In his mind Joel thought of different ways to hurt Harris but the bully never seemed to be alone. Joel had no friends to back him up. Even the boys who didn't dislike Joel recognised the fact that being friendly with him was likely to draw attention to themselves.<br />
<br />
It didn't even occur to Joel he was the victim of bullying. His mulish tendencies wouldn't allow him to take injustice lying down and Joel believed boys who were bullied to be weak. One thing Joel did learn was empathy. He understood how it must feel to be discriminated against for whatever reason. Joel's class was set an English language assignment whereby the boys had to write an essay on a 'four-legged friend', the best ones to be read out in class. Most boys wrote nice little stories about a dog, a cat, or a horse. Joel's story was selected to be read out. His only ever four-legged pet was Zorro so he naturally wrote about the pole-cat. The essay told how the village boys put the ferrets down their trousers which caused much mirth.<br />
"Why on earth did you choose a pole-cat for a pet?" one boy asked after Joel finished reading.<br />
<br />
When Joel explained about catching rabbits, more and more questions were fired at him by a number of boys. Even Campbell, the English teacher, seemed interested. Joel saw the looks on the faces of some boys and a wicked glint came into his eye. None of these boys knew what it was like to catch and kill their own food. Joel took great delight in telling how he killed his first rabbit and hit it so hard the eyes had popped out. Graphic descriptions on gutting and skinning the rabbit followed. A couple of boys who regarded rabbits as sweet little bunnies looked decidedly queasy.<br />
<br />
The bell called Joel's story to a halt but none of the boys moved as Joel finished his story. Joel was the only boy whose essay had promoted a debate of sorts. He wished he could show his classmates how the boys of the village hunted rabbits and pheasants, tickled trout and cooked crabs. They had never known the fun and satisfaction a boy gets from being able to fend for himself away from civilisation. Perhaps they wouldn't be so mean or stand-offish if they knew how to have a bit more fun.<br />
"I want a follow essay, minimum 500 words, on my 'exotic pet'. This can be anything at all, use your imaginations" Campbell told the class.<br />
"Can it be a tiger Sir?" one boy asked.<br />
"It can be anything at all"<br />
"What if I don't have one Sir?" Joel asked.<br />
"Nobody expects you to have a tiger, use your imagination!"<br />
"It's imagination I don't have Sir" Joel said and some boys laughed irritating Campbell.<br />
"With the story you have just told us all I am sure that is not the case"<br />
"But that all happened" Joel protested but he could see Campbell had caused some boys to doubt him.<br />
<br />
Feeling aggrieved, Joel's follow up essay wasn't exactly what Campbell expected. Even though no reading out was scheduled, Campbell chose to read Joel's to the rest of the class. Joel put on a pained expression. The essay was a protest of sorts against Campbell doubting him, Joel didn't expect it to be heard by his classmates. It caused much hilarity among the class and Joel suddenly realised he could make people laugh.<br />
<br />
Joel chose a trained house spider as an exotic pet. He wrote some nonsense how it used to come when called until one day he pulled the spider's legs off. Joel said it wouldn't come to him anymore and stated spiders go deaf if you pull their legs off. It was more protracted but you get the idea. The story signalled the emergence of Joel as the 'Class Clown'. He couldn't make the boys like him but the ability to hold their interest and make them laugh felt like he had a little power. Joel didn't realise it was just another nail in the coffin.<br />
<br />
What was he thinking of? He provided a source of entertainment for the very boys who hated him and often antagonised teachers to do it. Thank goodness for rugby.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<div>
<br />
Now he was part of the photography club Joel found himself in Dinosaur's good books. His marks in History greatly improved and Joel became a regular in the school rugby team. In fairness Joel deserved his place in the team, but he hadn't made any extra effort in History yet soon went from the bottom five in the class to the top five.<br />
<br />
It irritated Joel how the teacher could manipulate the marks one way or the other, but he wasn't about to voice his displeasure. It also irritated Joel how Herman had discouraged him from joining the photography club. He could have had far fewer canings if he had joined the club in the beginning and thought Herman was maybe guarding his standing as class pet.<br />
<br />
Joel was making boys laugh in class and gained a certain amount of respect through rugby, but after school hours he found himself very much alone. By not engaging in conversation with other boys, Joel was also lacking a certain knowledge which among twelve and thirteen year old boys was becoming obsessive. In the showers after games the difference between Joel and his peers was becoming even more noticeable and he began to wonder if there was something wrong with him.<br />
<br />
Joel became self-conscious overnight. His lack of maturity shared only by Kramer and one or two other boys, was now a source of shame. Joel felt inadequate and hung back at shower time so as few boys as possible would see him. It meant tepid water but it was a small price to pay for not being observed. Kramer must have had similar thoughts but took it a step further and chose to shower with his shorts on. After rugby one afternoon Dinosaur went into the changing rooms to check up on the boys just as Kramer came out of the shower.<br />
"Get those shorts off boy! Are you ashamed of what you've got?" Dinosaur boomed.<br />
"Ashamed of what he hasn't got more like" one boy said and there was a lot of sniggering.<br />
<br />
All eyes were on Kramer as he let his wet shorts drop to the floor his hand covering his embarrassment.<br />
"Now get back in there and wash properly" Dinosaur ordered then noticed Joel dawdling "And what are you waiting for Phillips?"<br />
"Nothing Sir" answered Joel and strode to the shower seemingly unconcerned.<br />
"Come on the rest of you, get dressed" Dinosaur said curtailing the sniggers.<br />
<br />
Joel looked at Kramer. Was he crying? It was hard to tell with water splashing on the boy's face but his eyes looked red. It might just have been the shampoo. After that day Joel and Kramer began to get friendlier, both sharing this neotenic curse. Joel liked Kramer when he was on his own. He didn't show off and put on a front like he did in the presence of other boys.<br />
<br />
Kramer chattered away and Joel was happy to listen even though he didn't believe or agree with a lot of what was said. Herman and Willy never talked much and Dean was moody so Joel had never heard so many words all in one go. It was almost like being back in the village where he couldn't get a word in edgeways. Kramer spoke endlessly about girls, mostly rude things, and Joel had so many questions he wanted to ask, but could he trust Kramer?</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-54095385146791411022016-12-10T00:06:00.000+00:002019-01-27T23:38:51.874+00:00ADC,09<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL2K8hjqv7PZQPmrvL4828Z8cfaDMeU7h7AjUQBqB_yoCOl2boJdGcv_pDRG1uOYwVrfvjzlYEUhhABhZBV2XIV7UwR-7zxw0z_e2t-N91CiLh5nW-l7Bm5_mT8G4k1Pd6aSLToetKHoy/s1600/front9.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL2K8hjqv7PZQPmrvL4828Z8cfaDMeU7h7AjUQBqB_yoCOl2boJdGcv_pDRG1uOYwVrfvjzlYEUhhABhZBV2XIV7UwR-7zxw0z_e2t-N91CiLh5nW-l7Bm5_mT8G4k1Pd6aSLToetKHoy/s1600/front9.png" /></a><b><u>9. Breaking Point</u></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="color: #741b47;">Constant abuse will drive anybody to their wits end. The results vary considerably as does the length of time it takes for someone to snap. At some point even the most timid boy will turn and fear is replaced by rage - jp</span></b></i></div>
<br />
Buster was a different kind of a bully to Harris and Joel could almost tolerate it.... almost. Unlike Harris the bullying from Buster was indiscriminate. He had a couple of cronies but in general Buster regarded everybody with equal contempt. The form of bullying by Buster was quite impromptu and the recipient random. It had been established by now that Joel was quite tough. Buster thought of himself as the toughest boy in their year so he naturally wanted to put Joel to the test. In truth it was probably Carrots but he had nothing to prove.<br />
"Champion!!" Buster declared as he won yet another game of knuckles.<br />
<br />
Joel watched the beaten boy rubbing the back of his hands. He had never played knuckles and Buster eyed him up. Buster wanted to play the game with another boy but there was a marked reluctance to challenge him.<br />
"How about you Phillips, you don't look scared" Buster taunted.<br />
<br />
He had said it in such a way Joel would find it hard to refuse. The last time the pair clashed resulted in Joel coming off better, if the subsequent caning by Dinosaur was overlooked.<br />
"Okay"<br />
<br />
The boys put their fists together. The idea was when contact was broken the 'hitter' would try and rap the back of the other boy's knuckles. If he missed then the other boy would have a turn as hitter. If contact was made the hitter would have another go until he missed. The bout was over when one boy backed out. Buster hit Joel every time. Joel's knuckles were red raw but he kept going, refusing to admit defeat. In the end Buster was hurting himself hitting Joel, and he was clearly expecting his opponent to give up. Joel wouldn't concede and it was the bell that eventually saved both boys. Buster respected Joel a little because of the way he stood up to him, but it didn't mean he would leave the boy alone.<br />
<br />
Joel's flippant attitude during classes brought him into conflict with several teachers, although he behaved impeccably for Dinosaur. Dinosaur had caned Joel more than any other teacher but it had been weeks since the last time. There was even talk of Joel helping with a special assignment in the photography club next term when the emphasis shifted from war to sport. Joel's excitement wasn't shared by Herman who was also pencilled in.<br />
<br />
Campbell was a problem verbally but the Geography teacher Cratchett was worse. Cratchett never actually caned Joel but he did hurl a few choice missiles at the boy. He was a good shot as well. Chalk frequently bounced off Joel's head when he lost concentration through Buster kicking his chair, or some other nuisance. A couple of times when Joel had smart-mouthed Cratchett, the teacher had hurled the blackboard rubber at the boy. It wasn't too bad if the chalky cushioned part hit, but if the wooden side caught Joel it hurt a lot. He had it bounce off his rib-cage once but the worst time was when it hit his knuckles and a lump came up that didn't go down for weeks.<br />
<br />
Cratchett could be quite inventive too. He would make Joel stand at the front of the class and hold out a heavy book at arms length. Next to where Joel stood was a radiator and to gain some respite Joel would rest his hand on the radiator. The weight of the book on Joel's hand against the hot radiator caused a different kind of pain and Cratchett chuckled to himself as he watched the boy out of the corner of his eye. Joel hated it when Cratchett wandered around the class, especially if he was carrying something. A blow would come from out of the blue whether it was with a stack of books, a ruler, or some other weapon, and it was hard to prepare against.<br />
<br />
Harris saw Joel as a threat to his dominance within the Lodge. It simply wouldn't do for a prole to show such a lack of fear and respect. Joel had become wise to Harris and managed on the whole to keep out of his way. There was trouble brewing though and Joel knew it. He felt like turning to attack as a means of defence. Harris was considerably bigger but Joel wasn't scared of him on his own. The trouble was he never seemed to be alone. Joel didn't realise that by avoiding Harris he was putting others in danger, not least Herman and Richards.<br />
<br />
Christmas was coming. Joel would see his father for the first time in a year, and needed his friends more than ever right now.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
It was a relief to finally escape the school. Joel had been on edge for the last week as Harris stepped up his hate campaign. Thankfully the abuse had just been verbal with Harris unable to get Joel alone. The verbal abuse was okay as it was more humiliating than painful. Joel could handle that, after all it's not like he was ever going to be popular.<br />
<br />
There was the worry of the threats. Harris would draw a finger across his throat when he saw Joel in the time worn death threat. It kept Joel on his toes. Showers were the biggest danger and Joel's new found self-consciousness made him even more vulnerable to attack. He was no longer comfortable showering with Herman even though the boy hadn't said anything untoward. Joel didn't mind showering with boys who were also late to mature but there were fewer and fewer in his year.<br />
<br />
Kramer was the only boy Joel was comfortable with, but he usually had Carrots on hand. To get caught in the showers by Harris would be painful, so a couple of times Joel skipped them. It was noticed and the writing of two pages as a punishment were nothing compared to the 'smelly' or 'stinky' taunts. It just seemed Joel couldn't do anything right and the slightest lapse would be picked up on, giving his peers more ammunition.<br />
<br />
Joel had learnt to control his temper a little and it hadn't gone unnoticed it was now rare he attacked his tormentors, choosing to ignore the taunts. The result was even more abuse, and from boys previously too scared to say anything. Joel had given up trying to stop boys teasing him, he was tired. Being on high alert all the time was taking its toll. The fight was draining the life from the boy. Sullen and reclusive, Joel was becoming anonymous, a ghost almost. The school felt like a prison and the days until his release were counted down. On any day Joel could tell you exactly how many days were left until the next school holidays.<br />
<br />
A weird thing happened as awaited his bus home. Joel cried. Not just a case of tears welling up, but huge racking sobs. It was like a release valve had been triggered and interspersed with the sobs was laughter. Was he losing his mind?<br />
<br />
Joel's father had returned from The Falklands soon after Joel had gone back to school and went away again after a couple of weeks leave. He was still at sea when Joel returned home but was due back before Christmas. Almost as a ritual Joel tore his hated uniform off and sought his bed. Burying his face in the pillow the scent was heady. School bedding could never smell or feel the way his pillows and bedsheets did at home. Joel climbed into bed. The wintry weather was no good for football and the only ones he wanted to call on were Scott or Jodie who lived furthest away. Joel fell into a deep peaceful sleep the like of which he never had at school.<br />
<br />
A knock at the door woke Joel. He looked out the window and saw the rain had stopped. At the door stood Jamie, Ashley, Mattie, and Xander. He waved them in and grabbed his mother's dressing gown from the bathroom to cover himself. It was soft and warm.... and pink! Ashley laughed when he saw Joel coming down the stairs in the pink dressing gown.<br />
"Told you that school would make him into a girl"<br />
"You and him can get married" Xander said joining in.<br />
"Girls don't marry girls you idiot" Mattie snorted.<br />
"Hey!!!" Joel complained then smiled and dived from the stairs onto his friends.<br />
<br />
Jamie had side-stepped as the others crashed to the floor in a heap and a free-for-all developed. Joel broke it up quickly before anything was smashed. Catching up on the latest news from the village was the best thing ever. The news wasn't brilliant, nor particularly interesting, but it was things Joel could identify with and relate to. Most important it was related to him by boys who genuinely liked him, who had come round to call for him. FRIENDS!<br />
<br />
Alan had his cast off and was the first boy to have a girlfriend, something which drew a mixed reaction from the other boys. Nathan was having a really rough time but Xander and Mattie watched out for him best they could. He looked gaunt and dark circles were round his eyes. Joel frowned.<br />
"They're talking about strikes at the pit" Jamie said adding to the gloom.<br />
<br />
The boys were only young when the last strikes went on, but they knew of the accompanying hardship and fell silent.<br />
"What are we doing tomorrow then?" Joel asked cheerfully to brighten the mood, he loved that WE word.<br />
"Football" was Ashley's typical response.<br />
"Hunting" Mattie said equally predictably and Jamie thought a moment.<br />
"Hunting or football" he said with a distinct lack of imagination.<br />
"We could play war" Xander put in.<br />
<br />
An animated debate followed as the boys argued what would be the best thing to do. Joel just sat and watched, smiling.<br />
"What are you grinning at?" Xander asked noticing the look on Joel's face.<br />
"You lot, it's just so good to see you all again"<br />
<br />
The boys looked at each other. The looks on their faces clearly indicated they thought Joel had gone mad.<br />
"Told you he was a girl, get him" Ashley said and started another free-for-all.<br />
<br />
Joel had to get them out of the house before they wrecked the place. The boys decided they would go hunting when the weather turned. There was no point if it was wet, dry frosty weather was best. It was a toss up between football and war, so they decided to wait to see how many boys turned up. Joel didn't care what they did just as long as they did it with him. As the boys left Mattie hung back a moment and looked at Joel strangely.<br />
"Are you okay?" he asked.<br />
"Of course" Joel replied a little puzzled.<br />
"It's just that... oh never mind"<br />
"Say what you mean" Joel told the boy.<br />
<br />
Mattie thought for a moment then sighed.<br />
"It's just that your eyes look like Nathan's"<br />
"I'm okay, honest" Joel assured his friend, he hadn't even noticed the black rings around his eyes.<br />
<br />
Mattie ran off to catch the others up and Joel closed the door. He went upstairs and looked in the bathroom mirror slightly worried. It was the first time Joel had looked in a mirror for months and he wondered how long the dark circles had been there.<br />
<br />
The boys played war with their pellet pistols the next day and it was good to see Alan again. Joseph and Lawrence were becoming permanent fixtures but Joel still missed Scott and Jodie. Nathan seemed a bit happier but Joel saw what Mattie meant. Joel liked Nathan although he wasn't as close to him as with the others. It puzzled Joel why Nathan should tell him about the problems at home. Perhaps the others were too close, or maybe he sensed Joel was a better listener and wouldn't judge him.<br />
<br />
Joel was about to have some problems of his own. The only other birds the boys hunted apart from pheasant were pigeons. As they walked back from the woods a pigeon flew overhead and Joel without thinking took a pot-shot with his air-pistol. He knew he never had a chance of hitting it but what Joel didn't calculate was where the pellet would come down. The pellet hit the windscreen of a parked car and shattered it.<br />
<br />
The boys ran off in every direction but Joel froze. The owner saw him and marched Joel home. Joel's mother told the man to get the windscreen fixed and she would pay for it. The man had barely left the house when Joel's mother set about him. Normally Joel wasn't too bothered about being hit by his mother, but she was hitting him with the gun and it hurt like hell. When one hit opened a cut over Joel's eye and the blood seemed to bring his mother back to her senses.<br />
<br />
It seemed odd to Joel how his mother would injure him then tend to his wounds, and he winced as the dreaded TCP came out again. He hated the fiery anti-septic liquid more than the actual injuries.<br />
"Wait until your father gets home tomorrow" his mother threatened.<br />
<br />
Joel's mother may have been tending his wounds but she was still angry. The cut now paled into insignificance when Joel thought about his father's belt. Frequent canings at school held no fear for Joel but his father's belt was different. It had been a while since the last time but the memory was vivid. The offending gun was thrown in the bin but Joel retrieved it when his mother went to bed. He wrapped the gun in an old T-shirt and hid it under the garden shed.<br />
<br />
The next day Joel wasn't allowed out with his friends and had to go with his mother to see his grandmother. Joel had other things on his mind, his father was due at anytime. Like a condemned man Joel moped around and the attempts of his grandmother to cheer him up fell way short of the mark. Seeing his father for the first time in a year should have been a happy reunion, but Joel didn't even look at the man as he walked through the door. Hugs, smiles, and greetings were heaped on Joel's father by the womenfolk and uncle Tom shook his hand. Joel sat frowning. Suddenly school didn't seem so bad.<br />
"What's your problem?" Joel's father asked gruffly.<br />
<br />
The whole sorry tale of the windscreen was related to Joel's father who listened intently. Joel felt the blood draining from his face and his father took his arm leading him out the back door. Resigned to his fate Joel didn't even struggle as his father took him into the shed and took his belt off. Joel just looked blankly at his father as though his spirit was crushed, and the will to live was ebbing away.<br />
<br />
Joel's father wasn't a heartless man. He just didn't know how to show emotion, having been the man of the family and main provider from fourteen years old. It must have hurt him to be Santa Claus or the Devil incarnate when seeing his son after such a long period. He looked at Joel who stood before him staring blankly into space.<br />
"I'll hit the bench and you yell" he whispered.<br />
"I can't"<br />
"If you don't I'll have to belt you for real" Joel's father warned.<br />
<br />
For reasons unknown, Joel couldn't bring himself to go along with the charade, he turned round and bent over. Joel's father grabbed his arm and pulled him round hugging the boy. It was the only time Joel could ever remember being hugged by his father and he just stood impassively with his arms by his side, a single tear running down his cheek.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
Christmas hadn't been brilliant and birthdays at boarding school were fruitless. Joel had told his parents not to send a parcel because they often went missing. In truth, he was ashamed to open it in front of the other boys. The parcel came nevertheless. Joel opened it cautiously, as the other boys gathered round to see.<br />
<br />
Joel's eyes lit up when he saw the collection of items he needed for school. The calculator being the centre-piece. Calculators were a requirement for every boy. Joel had lied saying he lost his on the train but he had never owned one. All his calculations were done long-hand but Joel didn't care. Numbers and statistics rolled around in Joel's head all the time.<br />
"What on earth is that?" a voice came from behind him.<br />
"Don't scoff, his mother has bought him a valuable antique" another said and laughter erupted.<br />
<br />
There was of course the other problem Joel had with his birthday falling during term time. Harris as a third year had no business getting involved in the traditional bumps but he had a whole term without any retribution for his bullying and now it was getting out of hand. The day before Joel's thirteenth, one of the proles had wet his bed and was in the shower room washing his sheets when Harris walked in with his two lap-dogs.<br />
"Look chaps, another little pissant!" he declared.<br />
<br />
The boy carried on rinsing out his sheet not daring to look at the three bullies. Harris grabbed him roughly and pushed him back into the shower area. The prole sat back hard quivering in the corner with the three bullies boxing him in. They didn't see Herman enter the shower room. With the bullies preoccupied Herman turned the showers on. All the nozzles sprang to life making the bullies jump back as the jets hit them. Harris just saw Herman's figure disappearing through the door.<br />
<br />
That night three shadowy figures crept into Herman's room. He woke to a pillow being pushed hard in his face and blows raining down on his body. Herman's room mates kept their eyes tight shut as the assault continued for a couple of minutes. They hit Herman everywhere on the body only the pillow muffling his cries of pain. Exhausted and suffocating Herman's body relaxed in spite of the blows and then it was over. The next morning Joel was ready for a shower but didn't see Herman so went to his room.<br />
"Come on lazy, get up, it's my birthday!" Joel said cheerfully.<br />
<br />
Herman tried to pull the bed sheets back and winced in pain. Joel saw something was wrong and pulled the covers back. Herman's body was covered in red marks, soon to become bruises, and Herman found it painful to move.<br />
"Harris!" Joel spat out angrily.<br />
"I think so, but I can't be sure" Herman said grimacing.<br />
"Who the hell else would it be?" it was obvious even though Joel didn't know about the incident with the prole in the shower.<br />
<br />
The pain in Herman's ribs was intolerable and after an initial refusal, he relented and went to see Matron. As a precaution he was sent to hospital for an X-ray. Joel was allowed to go with him and kept Herman company during the long wait for the results. Nothing was broken but back at school Herman was given three days in sick bay with severe bruising. He was naturally questioned but refused to say what happened. Joel was worried. With Herman out of the way he suspected Harris would come after him. Joel guessed what was going to happen and when. It was almost inevitable Harris would involve himself with Joel's birthday bumps in some way.<br />
<br />
All evening Joel was on edge and eventually his fears were realised. Joel saw Harris and company coming but there was little he could do.<br />
"Ah the birthday boy" Harris declared with deceptively good humour.<br />
"It's nothing to do with you Harris" Joel snarled as menacingly as he could manage.<br />
"Just a bit of harmless fun Phillips" Harris said pleasantly but it was for the benefit of others and his smile didn't reach his eyes.<br />
"I've seen the result of your harmless fun, Herman is in sick-bay because of it"<br />
"I really do not know what on earth you are implying" Harris said and grabbed Joel's jaw roughly then under his breath "You shouldn't be at this school and I will make your life hell"<br />
"Leave him alone!" a voice piped up and Harris saw Richards standing defiantly with clenched fists.<br />
<br />
Harris looked at the prole who had the gall to confront him.<br />
"Perhaps we should toss Phillips and his girlfriend together" Tyrell sniggered.<br />
"My name is Richards" the boy said angrily.<br />
"Richards, yes. I will make sure of remembering that name" Harris said pointedly.<br />
<br />
The commotion brought the Shep from his room and he surveyed the scene.<br />
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded then he saw Harris and looked at the floor.<br />
"Harris wants to toss Richards with me and it's not even his birthday" Joel said hoping the Shep would intervene or at least oversee the bumps.<br />
"Harris shouldn't even be tossing him" Richards put in.<br />
"Richards keep out of what doesn't concern you. Harris get it over with, and quickly" the Shep said and went back inside his room closing the door.<br />
<br />
The Shep had effectively washed his hands of the whole affair and now Joel was at the mercy of Harris and his cronies. Joel lay on the blanket and Harris, Tyrell, and Stone picked a corner each. Richards went to pick up the remaining corner but was pushed away roughly by Stone.<br />
"Proles do not toss they are too weak!" he snarled.<br />
<br />
None of Joel's classmates stepped forward for the last corner and Harris looked around. As his eyes went to each boy in turn they looked at the floor.<br />
"I"ll take the other end" Collins said looking sternly at Harris.<br />
<br />
For a moment it seemed Harris would object but he just shrugged and Joel was relieved. He knew Collins wasn't scared of Harris, even though he minded his own business and kept himself to himself.<br />
"Very well" Harris said jovially "Collins it is then"<br />
<br />
The first ten bumps were boisterous but nothing Joel couldn't cope with. He was worried though because he knew Harris would do something mean. Sure enough on the next toss, when Joel came down the bullies didn't hold the blanket taut enough and he touched the floor which was not supposed to happen. Collins glared at the bullies. It was enough for Tyrell and Stone to take a tighter grip on the twelfth descent. Harris didn't hold the blanket any tighter though. Joel didn't hit the floor but the tilt of the blanket made him roll towards Harris.<br />
'Just one more' Joel thought with relief.<br />
<br />
As he came down for the final time Harris let go of his end. The others held their corners but it did nothing to break Joel's fall and he crashed heavily onto the floor from ceiling height. Joel lay motionless with his eyes closed. Everyone looked accusingly at Harris who gave a hurt look.<br />
"What? He was too close, I had all the weight. What could I do?" he bleated with feigned innocence.<br />
<br />
Richards flew at Harris fists flailing, swearing at the bully. The slightly built prole had neither the physique nor the know-how to inflict any damage on Harris but the ferocity of the attack surprised him and Stone had to drag Richards away.<br />
"RICHARDS!" screeched the Shep "Profanity, Headmaster's study tomorrow after breakfast"<br />
<br />
The three bullies quickly skulked away.<br />
"What happened?" the Shep asked looking at Joel in a crumpled heap on the floor.<br />
<br />
He was conscious but the wind had been taken out of him. Willy had seen what happened and scowled at the Shep, the other boys dispersed so as not to be questioned.<br />
"What the f-" Richards started to say but Collins put a hand over the boy's mouth and led him away before he got himself into more trouble.<br />
<br />
Willy knelt down and bent over his room-mate.<br />
"Can you hear me?" Willy asked softly.<br />
<br />
Joel opened his eyes and tried to answer that he was in fact fine but could only manage a croak. If it hadn't been for the fact Joel couldn't talk, he wouldn't even have gone to the sick bay. The wind had been taken out of him, nothing more. Willy insisted, worried about Joel's inability to speak. Herman was shocked to see Joel come into sick bay. Matron looked Joel over but he hadn't hit his head and there were no marks. Joel's voice started to come back and he assured her he was fine. Nevertheless Matron let him sleep in sick bay with Herman that night.<br />
"Perhaps we should stay out of his way" Herman suggested dejectedly.<br />
"Then he's won" Joel argued.<br />
"It's not a game you moron; he will never stop" Herman said close to tears.<br />
<br />
For Herman's sake Joel didn't argue. He didn't realise the affect it was having on Herman and felt ashamed. After all it wasn't even Herman's fight, he only became involved by looking out for Joel. Joel began to think Herman was right but suspected Harris would thrive on their capitulation. With a day off the following day, Herman and Joel missed the Head's speech about bullying. Joel also missed the illicit game of football. As he prepared to leave the sick bay, Richards came in. His nose was bleeding and he had a fat lip. Joel waited as he watched Matron tend to the boy. When she left the room for a minute Joel nudged Richards.<br />
"Harris?" he asked softly.<br />
<br />
Richards nodded and put a finger to his lips.<br />
"The Head never caned me because I was deemed to be in shock due to your injury. Tyrell and Stone dragged me into the copse when I was walking back to the Lodge. Harris said if the Head refused to beat me then justice must be served by someone else"<br />
<br />
The door to the next room was open and the boys didn't see Matron behind the door listening to every word. Richards told how Harris had taken a branch from a bush as a makeshift cane.<br />
"But what happened to your face?" Joel asked.<br />
"I kicked him in the balls" Richards whispered.<br />
<br />
Harris snapped and set about the boy two years his junior. Joel could feel the rage building up inside, it was all his fault. Everything was his fault, first Dean, then Herman, and now Richards. Joel stormed out of the building just as Matron came in. Striding purposefully to the Lodge Joel picked up a large stone on the way. He went to the games locker in the changing rooms and smashed the padlock off with the stone. Joel opened it up and took out a cricket bat. Hiding it half down his trousers and half up his shirt, Joel smuggled the bat back to his room.<br />
<br />
Long after lights out Joel kept himself awake. When he felt he could stay awake no longer, Joel slid from his bed and took up the cricket bat. Opening the door to Harris' room Joel stole towards the bully's bed, his breathing was even. Joel's heart was pounding so hard he felt sure Harris would hear it and wake up. Joel took a deep breath then started battering Harris as hard as he could with the cricket bat.<br />
<br />
Harris was squealing like a stuck pig and begging Joel to stop, but a red mist had descended and Joel completely lost control. The lights came on but still Joel hit the blanket covered form of the shrieking bully. Dinosaur came and dragged Joel away in the end, the Shep had roused him being too scared to get involved himself. Joel was put in a locked room at the end of the dormitory for the rest of the night and Harris was taken away to hospital with suspected broken bones.<br />
<br />
The next day Joel received his first public flogging. Six of the best over the Headmaster's desk in assembly. In an act of defiance, Joel turned to shake hands with the Headmaster afterwards but was ignored. It caused a rumbling undercurrent among the boys in assembly. Joel was sent home and suspended for two weeks, pending a committee meeting with a view to expulsion. He didn't know whether to be happy or worried.<br />
<br />
Perhaps Joel's luck was changing. His father was away which saved a hiding, although when his mother went to bingo on his first night home, he found himself sleeping in the phone box again. Joel's escapades at school came back to his mother via a letter. Naturally it didn't tell the whole story and Joel wasn't allowed to. He had brought shame on the family and that was that. It felt to Joel like he was sliding into an abyss.<br />
<br />
Harris had a series of lumps and bumps, mainly on the arms, and a hair-line fracture of a finger. He was in sick bay for a week. The school board met to discuss Joel's fate and damning reports about Harris were forthcoming from Matron, the Shep, and somewhat surprisingly, Dinosaur. It was clear to the board, the nature of Harris and Joel's frequent trips to sick bay were linked. The committee decided the suspension was enough due to 'mitigating circumstances' which they didn't specify. Both Joel and Harris were put on probation until the end of the school year.<br />
<br />
Joel could have done cartwheels. It meant Harris would have to keep his nose clean until the beginning of the next school year when he would move to Gatehouse, the boarding house for fourth years upwards. Both Herman and Richards were grateful of the respite as well. Joel was glad for Herman and Richards but 'keeping his nose clean' may not be so easy. He found when one door opens another slams in his face. For now Joel was enjoying his impromptu holiday.<br />
<br />
When Joel told his friends about Harris and what happened they all laughed. With the possible exception of Nathan they would have done similar. Certainly Jamie, Ashley, and Scott would have, Unlike the boys at Forester, they didn't find Joel's behaviour at all shocking. Harris made it clear he wouldn't fight fair so he had it coming. Joel hoped it would be the end of the matter but Harris had lost a lot of credibility. The boys in the dormitory heard Harris screaming when Joel was beating him, all of a sudden the bully seemed less fearsome. Harris wouldn't let that pass easily.<br />
<br />
Playing football with his friends brought back fond memories of a time that felt so long ago now. If he could take his 11+ exams again would Joel have deliberately failed? Always in the back of his mind was Harris, and Joel wondered how the bully would react on his return.<br />
<br />
It didn't take long to find out. The other boys had ribbed Harris mercilessly whilst Joel was suspended and he had been very subdued. As soon as Joel walked into the dormitory it began again. It wouldn't have been so bad but the other boys, possibly fed up with Harris and his malevolent ways, couldn't resist making comments.<br />
"Hear you are signing up for cricket next term Phillips" one said.<br />
"Yes, he swings a mean bat!" another chipped in and Harris scowled.<br />
<br />
The boys weren't doing Joel any favours antagonising Harris. When nobody was looking Harris moved his finger across his throat as he glared at his assailant. Kramer's voice came from behind Joel:<br />
"Don't worry about him" he said seeing the gesture.<br />
"I'm not worried" Joel said cockily but his stomach was churning.<br />
<br />
Joel reasoned whatever Harris had in mind would be severe, considering the scale of the beating he took. Harris turned and went to his room. Kramer had put his arm around Joel's shoulder in a show of solidarity. It was just as well. The fight seemed to have gone out of Herman and apart from Dinosaur's extra-curricular photography classes, Joel rarely saw him to speak to at any length.<br />
<br />
Rugby was Joel's outlet. The school team had started living up to expectations at last and put a winning sequence together. School house won the inter-house trophy as was usual and it felt good to be on a winning team. It was the only time Joel felt as if he belonged in this alien environment.<br />
<br />
Fortunately Harris kept his distance although the threatening gestures didn't let up. Joel was touched by Kramer's show of support and their common affliction brought them closer together. In spite of Joel's doubts about Kramer he convinced himself his new friend was cut from a different cloth to Harris. Joel began to overlook the way Kramer teased other boys. It was as though Kramer was insecure about his slight stature and felt the need to make others feel small. Joel was still reluctant to run with the pack.<br />
<br />
Hanging back for showers after practice was when the two boys talked most. Kramer's knowledge of matters carnal seemed to be second to none in their year. Joel doubted most of the stories but he finally learnt the mechanics of sex. Even though he knew Alan had a girlfriend in the village, Joel couldn't believe any girl their age would do what Kramer was describing. Kramer's stories just seemed too incredible, but they were entertaining. It did make Joel think of Jodie but he certainly couldn't imagine her doing the things Kramer spoke of, even if he had the courage to suggest it.<br />
<br />
With being on probation Joel was unable to sneak out of the school grounds which gave him more time to study. So although he continued to be a source of amusement to his classmates, very few teachers had any complaints about Joel's industry. As the term drew to a close Joel had worked his way into the top three in most of his subjects. At least his reception at home might be more benign, even taking into consideration the suspension.<br />
<br />
For the first and only time Joel was almost sad the term had to end. Rugby season was over and neither cross-country nor cricket appealed, contrary to the comments about Joel's bat wielding prowess.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-15816088552916901282016-12-09T00:29:00.000+00:002019-01-27T23:38:51.455+00:00ADC.10<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupdcxi_0lepHUqCydPt24iktib-aYldwidYcqdRFmmz6KdxQ8LLbO61YAeWyTkvi-BGaA5Ha3Q3TaTOilreKE0reLfgrtSeGvtC1r1y3wEJGr2qRt8DjOvdU8Jd5_H_h1VlMAnIJYV2XF/s1600/front.10.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupdcxi_0lepHUqCydPt24iktib-aYldwidYcqdRFmmz6KdxQ8LLbO61YAeWyTkvi-BGaA5Ha3Q3TaTOilreKE0reLfgrtSeGvtC1r1y3wEJGr2qRt8DjOvdU8Jd5_H_h1VlMAnIJYV2XF/s1600/front.10.png" /></a><b><u>10. Dead On Arrival</u></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>'Death is a strange experience but one everybody should try at least once before they die' - jp</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
When Joel arrived home for the Easter holidays his father was there. The boy sensed something was amiss. His father frowned.<br />
"Look at the state of you" he admonished.<br />
<br />
Joel looked down at himself a little puzzled. He was a bit dishevelled but no more than usual.<br />
"What?"<br />
"You can put a suit on a pig, but it's still a pig" his father snorted derisively.<br />
"Go and get changed" his mother ordered rather coldly.<br />
"Nice to see you, glad you're home, how was school..." Joel muttered under his breath as he climbed the stairs.<br />
<br />
Opening his bedroom door Joel's eyes nearly popped out. A brand new bicycle! Joel's only previous bike was one he had made up from old bits he found lying around. He rushed downstairs four steps at a time.<br />
"Is it mine?" he asked excitedly.<br />
"No, it's the new blokes. We're renting your room out" his father said but was unable to keep the smile away.<br />
"Thank you" Joel mumbled hardly able to believe his ears.<br />
<br />
He turned and dashed back upstairs. Joel had been asking for a bike since he was five years old, he stopped asking at ten. It was unbelievable, the best thing ever. Joel was over the moon.<br />
"What do yer think then?"<br />
<br />
Joel's head swung round seeing his father had followed him upstairs. Joel's mother stood behind him in the doorway.<br />
"Oh wow" was all Joel could manage.<br />
<br />
Joel turned to hug his father but a hand was thrust out before he could get close. Father and son shook hands. Joel rushed to his mother and flung his arms around her and she hugged him back. He didn't want to let go but after a few seconds she pushed him away.<br />
"Come on that's enough now, let's see you ride it"<br />
<br />
For two days, Joel was never off the bike. On the third morning he did his chores hurriedly, so he could get out on his new bike.<br />
"Where are you going?" came a voice that stopped Joel in his tracks.<br />
"Out"<br />
"Not until you make that fire properly and chop some more kindling" his father contested.<br />
"I'll be late meeting the others" Joel complained.<br />
"Should have got up earlier"<br />
"I did but someone made me do it again"<br />
"Do it right or do it twice!"<br />
<br />
Joel rolled his eyes. He had heard the time-worn expression countless times, but as he rebuilt the fire Joel recognised it would have been difficult to light. Damn his father for being right all the time! He dashed out after rebuilding the fire, not bothering to wash his hands or even get a slice of bread and jam.<br />
<br />
In spite of the hold up Joel met his friends in good time and they were soon riding down a country lane in bright sunshine. All the stresses and strains of school evaporated in the golden sunshine flashing in the boys faces, as rays broke through overhead branches and leaves. The boys came to a hill and pedalled as fast as they could, racing each other. Joel heard a shout from behind, but the wind was rushing past his ears and the sound was muffled. Another shout. Joel turned his head sideways to hear. At the bottom of the hill the road bent round to the right. When he looked forward again the bike hit the bank propelling Joel forward and over the handlebars. Joel's head hit a tree and he rolled back down the bank into the road.<br />
<br />
The boys behind saw what had happened, their momentum carrying them past Joel until they skidded to a halt. As they ran back to their friend he started moving. Joel had only been unconscious a few seconds but something was very wrong. When he opened his eyes everything was upside down. As his friends approached Joel tried to stand up without success. He found himself rolling around in the road.<br />
"Are you okay?" Xander asked with concern.<br />
"NO! Go and get someone!" Joel replied harshly, knowing it was serious.<br />
"Stop messing about" Ashley said accusingly.<br />
"I'm NOT messing about. Get someone NOW!!"<br />
<br />
The boys realised it wasn't a prank and raced off to the nearest house. Joel kept trying to stand up, unsuccessfully. Then he hit on an idea. He closed his eyes and stood up perfectly. When he opened them again he fell flat on his face. A man came and looked at Joel whose eyes were rolling about in his head. Instantly he knew something was seriously wrong.<br />
"Keep him sitting up, I'll get my car" the man said and dashed off.<br />
<br />
Joel was put in the car and driven to hospital. He remembered being put in a wheelchair outside the hospital but as the doors opened there was a blinding white flash, then it all went dark. Dying is a strange experience, almost euphoric in Joel's case. But he never had the problem of pain or trauma when he crossed that invisible threshold between worlds. It seemed the harder Joel hit his head the less it hurt. Joel just felt pleasantly dizzy when it all went black.<br />
'Am I dead?' Joel wondered, quite untroubled by the thought.<br />
"Quick, he's not breathing"<br />
"Pulse?"<br />
<br />
'I can't be dead yet I can still hear people' It didn't occur to Joel to try and open his eyes. He was aware of a pressure on his chest but couldn't feel it. A doctor was administering cpr.<br />
'I'm not there anymore' Joel sang to himself silently, as if teasing the doctors.<br />
<br />
There was a sudden surge and Joel was up in the corner of the room looking down on himself, his eyes now open. There was a flurry of activity around his body on the table. The fascination was brief as Joel became aware of changes. It was like he didn't have a body.<br />
'Am I just a brain? I can feel my face, my cheeks and my smile... perhaps I'm just a face'<br />
<br />
The door opened and without a thought he swished down from the ceiling and through the gap just before the door swung shut. The motion was swift and fluid, a curious white shadow followed like the tail of a comet. Through one door, then another, and another. The outside door opened and Joel was out of the hospital in a flash. Joel soared up to roof-top height and down the darkened street. It was night time and the street-lamps shone brightly just a few feet below him. Glaringly so. Recognising the street, Joel wanted to see his house.<br />
<br />
Time seemed not to exist or he moved at incredible speed, the three mile journey from the hospital took just seconds. The house was in darkness and he hovered at his bedroom window height. Suddenly unsure, Joel hesitated. Something behind him attracted his attention. It wasn't a noise or a light, it was a sensory thing, an instinct. Joel turned as if looking back over his shoulder had he a body, and then in a swift blur of motion he was back in the hospital.<br />
"He's back" a doctor declared triumphantly.<br />
'That's odd' Joel thought as he looked down on himself again from the ceiling, Then it went black once more.<br />
<br />
It felt no more than a blink but when Joel opened his eyes his father was sat next to the hospital bed looking relieved.<br />
'That was one hell of a dream' Joel thought.<br />
<br />
When Joel was told he was in a coma for three days and had actually died at one point, he began to wonder if indeed it was a dream. One thing about nearly dying is the change in attitude of a person. There is a tendency to live for the day. Death is no longer a concern, it holds no mystery any more. Joel saw the smile on his father's face but it didn't reach his eyes, he looked unshaven and haggard. Worry lines were etched all over the man's face.<br />
"Is my bike okay?" Joel asked and for a split second thought his father about to explode.<br />
<br />
It was many years later after the death of his father, Joel's mother told the story. Joel's father blamed himself for the accident. He mistakenly thought Joel's angry mood over his chores may have contributed to an error of judgement. He also cursed himself for buying the bicycle in the first place. It upset Joel to learn how for years his father lived with that guilt and it was all unnecessary. Joel's mood changed the instant the door was closed and behaved no differently than he would otherwise have done. As for the bike he would have borrowed one, or been sat on the handle bars of another. Joel would have gladly told his father the truth had he known how he felt.<br />
<br />
The other boys had rushed home and told Joel's parents about the accident. They arrived at the hospital just in time to see Joel being rushed through the hospital on a bed. He was deathly white and motionless.<br />
"Oh my God he's dead!" Joel's mother shrieked and promptly fainted.<br />
<br />
Joel's father stayed by his bedside for three days and neither ate nor slept. It was at the point the doctors were getting concerned but only a fool argued with Joel's father in this mood. It was the only time Joel's mother ever saw his father cry.<br />
<br />
There was a loud ringing in one of Joel's ears and it made hearing difficult. He didn't realise then it would be a permanent fixture. Everything was the right way up again and Joel thought he had only been asleep a few minutes.<br />
"Where are my clothes?"<br />
<br />
A doctor came before he had an answer and started checking the boy over. He started asking lots of questions but Joel just wanted to go and see if he had dented his brand new bike. He felt fine and sat up. The room started spinning and he flopped back again. Joel wasn't in pain but his muscles weren't responding how his brain was asking them to. The ears have a bearing on balance, and Joel's balance was shot. He was confined to bed because dizzy spells were frequent and prolonged. There was the odd habit of falling asleep as though someone had just flicked a switch. Joel could be standing up and fall asleep. It was dangerous when he then collapsed, another blow to the head could have been fatal.<br />
<br />
After two weeks in hospital Joel was allowed home but still confined to bed. His friends had come to see him in hospital but would leave when he fell asleep in mid-sentence. When Joel was back at home the visits dwindled and he missed the whole summer holiday. To his friends it was as if Joel was still at boarding school. All Joel could see was his friends drifting further from him. At least he wouldn't have to go back to Forester yet. On the surface Joel was recovering quickly. He didn't fall asleep as much, and the dizzy spells were becoming less frequent and much shorter.<br />
<br />
Joel's father went away to sea again and his mother was working the same long hours. He was no longer confined to bed but had to stay upstairs where the bathroom was. Stairs were out of the question. Joel used a Zimmer-frame to get to the toilet, his hands trembled like an old man. Joel didn't consider himself injured though. He was living the life of Riley. House to himself all day, television, snacks, and most important no Forester.<br />
<br />
The no stairs rule went on the second day. Joel felt hungry and went downstairs on his backside as he did as a toddler. He crawled back up the stairs just before his mother was due home. And so it went on each day Joel was getting a little stronger. He may have been forgotten during the holidays but was soon remembered when the village boys went back to school. During the summer he couldn't do anything. Couldn't go to the woods, couldn't go scrumping apples, couldn't even play football. With the autumn / winter term beginning Mattie recognised a benefit.<br />
<br />
Joel heard the knock at the door. He ignored it. He wasn't allowed downstairs and it wouldn't be one of his friends because it was school time. A relative would just go round to the back door which was rarely locked. The person knocked again but still Joel ignored it. Most people knocked twice in case the first wasn't heard. Another knock. Three was unusual. Joel decided to investigate. He shuffled down the stairs on his butt again and steadied himself against the walls as he went to the door.<br />
"At last!" Mattie said and pushed past Joel "Thought you'd died.... again, ha ha"<br />
"Why aren't you at school?" Joel asked closing the door.<br />
"It's a rubbish day" Mattie replied screwing his nose up.<br />
<br />
It struck Joel how he would have liked it to be so easy to bunk off school for a day at Forester. The walk had taken its toll on Joel and he steadied himself against the wall. Mattie noticed and grabbed his friend's elbow steadying him.<br />
"Are you okay?"<br />
"It'll pass in a minute" Joel assured Mattie.<br />
"Good job I'm here" Mattie declared triumphantly.<br />
"It wouldn't have happened if some idiot hadn't been banging on the door" Joel countered, trying to sound annoyed.<br />
"Pfft, that's all the thanks I get"<br />
"Make yourself useful and get my frame" Joel said pointing to the top of the stairs.<br />
"Hah! That's what grannies have" Mattie said laughing as he fetched it.<br />
<br />
The boys made their way into the front room and sat down.<br />
"So why are you here?"<br />
"Thought you'd be bored so I thought I've come to cheer you up" Mattie said brightly.<br />
"Thought you'd come and skive school in comfort you mean" Joel snorted.<br />
"That as well" Mattie laughed.<br />
<br />
It was Mattie that made Joel realise for the first time the ringing in his ear may be a problem. Joel kept asking Mattie to repeat himself which began to become tedious after a while and it was infuriating when after the third time of asking Mattie would say 'Oh forget it'. Joel was still glad of the company. Mattie continued to come round once a week and Joel continued to improve.<br />
"See you've got rid of the granny-frame" Mattie said when Joel answered the door holding a walking stick one day.<br />
<br />
Joel nodded. He wasn't sure what Mattie had said having only heard the vowel sounds. Joel's mind tried filling in the blanks and guess the rest. It was something he would have to learn quickly or keep asking people to repeat themselves. The boys sat around and watch videos all day. Mattie was good company but he mumbled when he spoke and Joel found it hard work deciphering what was said. One day Joel felt the urge to go to the toilet during a good part in the film the boys were watching. He waited a little too long and rushed to the stairs. The swift motion made Joel's head spin and he collapsed to his knees at the foot of the stairs.<br />
<br />
Mattie rushed over. He put one of Joel's arms across his shoulders and helped the boy upstairs. Joel had always admired Mattie because of his practicality. His no-nonsense manner reminded Joel a little of Willy at school, but at least Mattie knew how to have fun. The boys became closer in those months during Joel's recuperation. It was to make future events even harder to bear.<br />
<br />
The fun couldn't last. A letter from school bore disturbing news. If Joel didn't return after half-term he would have to stay down a year. The consequences would be unbearable. It felt like Joel had made being a misfit an art form. Joel lied about his rate of recovery to ensure he could go back to school after the short half-term break. Keeping his dizzy spells a secret Joel was eventually allowed out of the house and went to watch his friends playing football. Joel sat by the goal post and cheered the boys on, or gave derisory hoots if someone messed up. One errant shot nearly hit Joel.<br />
"Hey! Watch out for the cripple" Ashley shouted.<br />
"You mean the deaf old codger with the walking stick" Xander said and everyone laughed.<br />
<br />
Joel laughed with them. They were his friends and he knew they didn't mean anything by it. All the deaf jokes started being told and the boys would mock Joel's requests for someone to repeat themselves. Why do words from friends sound funny yet the same words became malicious when delivered by others? Or perhaps it is just the frequency with which they are used. Joel didn't realise then how those same words would soon cut like a knife.<br />
<br />
As it neared time to go back to school Joel began to worry. He would be vulnerable. It was doubtful Harris or Buster would respect his disability and he wouldn't be able to fight back. Joel's father came home on leave in time to take him back to school. Driving into the school car park the clapped out old car drew immediate attention, and everybody watched as Joel emerged from the passenger side.<br />
<br />
Some snide comments were made but Joel's impaired hearing saved him the humiliation. Dinosaur greeted the boy and his father. Getting a brief run-down on what had happened Dinosaur told a prole to go and get Kramer. Joel waved his father off, thankful when the old car disappeared out of sight.<br />
"Yes sir?" Kramer asked and glanced at Joel.<br />
"You and Phillips seemed.... friendly, last term, so I am leaving it up to you to look after him" Dinosaur stated rather than asked.<br />
"Sir?" Kramer was puzzled.<br />
<br />
Dinosaur went on to explain Joel's disability and his tendency to lose his balance, telling Kramer to be extra careful on stairs. Joel looked a bit sheepish propping himself up with a walking stick but Kramer smiled.<br />
"Yes Sir!"<br />
<br />
As soon as Dinosaur was out of earshot the taunts began. Many of the boys had heard Dinosaur's instruction to Kramer.<br />
"What do you call a poor, deaf, unbalanced cripple? Phillips!" one boy said and everyone laughed.<br />
"Shut up you lot!" Kramer barked but the taunts continued albeit at a lower volume.<br />
<br />
Kramer was hardly imposing, but it was known those who crossed him frequently came to a sticky end. For all Kramer's influence he couldn't stop the snide comments and deaf cripple jibes. The primeval instincts of the boys sensed a weakness and even usually timid boys joined in with the caustic comments and abuse. With his disability Joel was a sitting duck and it was open season. He began to rely heavily on Kramer who warmed to the task.<br />
<br />
The endless barrage of 'jokes' and insults wore Joel down and he eventually cracked. Joel swung his walking stick at one tormentor. He missed and toppled over, head spinning. Several boys stood over him, calling Joel names and one spat on him. Kramer came to his rescue and had to help Joel to the boarding house.<br />
"Shall I get matron?" Willy asked as Kramer helped Joel onto his bed.<br />
"NO! It will pass" Joel snapped, not wanting to alert anyone to a possible relapse and the prospects of more time off school.<br />
<br />
The threat of the additional year was a very real possibility Joel didn't want to consider. Kramer became Joel's shadow. Joel began to think of Kramer as a best friend and confidante, but sometimes he found Kramer hard to gauge.<br />
"What were the nurses like in hospital?" Kramer asked when the boys were alone.<br />
"Jeez, is that all you think of!" Joel exclaimed in mock exasperation.<br />
<br />
Kramer paused a few a moments.<br />
"Pretty much" he answered and both boys laughed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-71393819535999203972016-12-08T12:40:00.001+00:002023-06-25T21:08:21.952+01:00ADC.11<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5bnX0npAQDbFbI5KLTcXD4GsdUUDLLoufWbjxIev4249p0bOJpoBR3ctoiOTjBXSukczJj4lkpDyMZDOyRAvfzL3JA_koLSUSI2byOVkOrqxE2eNW9yVThasYfzhT4d8BWBuHLvHv_Yz/s1600/front.11.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5bnX0npAQDbFbI5KLTcXD4GsdUUDLLoufWbjxIev4249p0bOJpoBR3ctoiOTjBXSukczJj4lkpDyMZDOyRAvfzL3JA_koLSUSI2byOVkOrqxE2eNW9yVThasYfzhT4d8BWBuHLvHv_Yz/s1600/front.11.png" /></a><b><u>11. Fight Club</u></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>'It is easy to be drawn into a constant battle when feeling a sense of injustice, but at what cost. Conflict does nobody any favours and there are no winners' - jp</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
As the term wore on Joel struggled to catch up. Most of the teachers knew of Joel's accident but none had been told of his restricted hearing apart from Dinosaur. It wouldn't have been a problem as Joel usually sat at the front of the class, but his insecurity and reliance on Kramer since the accident meant he sat at the back with his ally. Missing half a term was a handicap in itself but an inability to hear the teacher compounded the issue and sitting at the back of the class did nothing to help. Joel was becoming more and more morose and hostile towards his peers. Kramer couldn't be with him every waking moment and when alone the sharks would circle.<br />
<br />
Near the end of term Joel joined in with an illicit game of football but lasted only minutes before having to sit down. In an uncustomary moment of weakness tears of frustration ran down Joel's cheeks as he sat with his head in his hands. Kramer wasn't there but Richards rushed over and put an arm on Joel's shoulder.<br />
"Are you okay?" he asked.<br />
"Go away, leave me alone!" Joel said curtly and Richards took a step back.<br />
<br />
Joel's mind was in turmoil. All he did was drive people away, he didn't want them near him. Never at any point did Joel think about suicide but many times he wished he had never woken up from his accident. This was the first. Did other boys think about death? The thoughts were disturbing but they weren't real, all Joel wanted was a comforting word or a shoulder to cry on, but on the odd occasion when one was available like now, he would shun the person, embarrassed by his weakness and disability. Only his friendship with Kramer kept Joel from going insane.<br />
<br />
Joel missed playing rugby. He wasn't allowed to play again until after Christmas but still had to spectate even though he couldn't take part. After the game, Joel would wait for Kramer to take his shower and walk back with him to the boarding house. Joel was the butt of many jokes. For the whole second half of the term Joel had little choice but to put up with the teasing. It wasn't something he would forgive or forget and Joel may have remained quiet but he was making mental notes.<br />
<br />
Deeper and deeper Joel sank back into his shell, looking out at the world with hate-filled eyes. Teachers didn't understand why he had dropped into the bottom three in every subject. Didn't want to understand, didn't care. There was a fury building inside and no release valve. He couldn't even play rugby to get rid of the pent up frustration. Joel hated the weakness and now he was going into self-destruct. Pushing away people that cared and keeping silent about the headaches, dizzy spells, and unheard conversations. To cover up his disability Joel began guessing what people had said, just so they wouldn't have to get irritated by having to repeat themselves.<br />
<br />
Self-imposed isolation was the only effective way Joel could find to deal with it. Solitude was a haven but the rage inside continued to grow. One that as yet he could not vent. Only Kramer was allowed inside the wall Joel had built around himself. Perhaps Joel was expecting too much of the boy, expectations Kramer could never live up to.<br />
"You can come and stay with me at Christmas" Kramer offered.<br />
"I'll have to ask my parents" Joel said thinking it a great idea.<br />
<br />
The answer wasn't what Joel wanted. His aunt, uncle, and cousins were coming to stay so Joel wasn't allowed to go, although it was suggested Kramer could perhaps stay over during Easter week. It was scant consolation but Kramer was enthusiastic. In the future Joel would look back on events apportioning blame, but wasn't he guilty of selfish manipulation. Joel needed Kramer.<br />
<br />
Kramer was one of the most popular boys in his year, Joel was an anathema. Staying with Kramer over Christmas would have been sure to cement their friendship. Joel was a different boy away from Forester. Kramer's friendship would make Joel's life at school so much easier, he was already seeing the benefits even though Kramer was only a nominated 'carer' of sorts. Now Joel's parents had taken away the opportunity. Christmas was one of the worst ever. Even family gave up trying to be nice to Joel, when constantly met with a surly wall of silence.<br />
"I'll be glad when he goes back to school" his mother told his father one day near the end of the holidays.<br />
<br />
Even with impaired hearing Joel had heard that alright! He had learnt to turn his head sideways to people, pointing his good ear to them, but the ringing in the other ear jumbled and confused words. Joel could hear high-pitched, or vowel sounds, but consonants were lost forever. Need, seed, feed, weed, deed, freed, they all sounded the same to the boy.<br />
<br />
Stupidly, Joel wanted to go back to school having forgotten how bad it was getting. He wanted to see Kramer again. For all that was to come and whatever his character flaws, Joel owed Kramer a debt of gratitude for preserving his sanity, borderline though it be. He declined his father's offer of a lift to school in the beat up old Ford Anglia. Most boys had forgotten about the car and Joel didn't want them reminded.<br />
<br />
After dumping his suitcase, Joel went to the common room. The hare and hounds chase was being organised. It was tradition at the start of every term, but winter was particularly hated, the weather was almost always bad. It was one thing getting wet and muddy in spring or autumn, but in the cold of winter it was no joke. Joel saw Kramer who winked and waved him over.<br />
"Stick with us on the hare and hounds" he said softly.<br />
<br />
He was with Carrots and two other boys, Davis and Bryant. As the boys went to get their whites on, Kramer grabbed Joel's arm and whispered:<br />
"Bryant lifted a bottle of his father's best wine"<br />
<br />
The hares were given their traditional fifteen minute start and the hounds took off after them, one shady looking bunch hanging back as the pursuit began. Just inside the wooded area the boys looked for a dry spot. It wasn't raining but the ground was soaked from downpours on the previous couple of days. Bryant produced the bottle and Kramer took out his secreted corkscrew. The boys went swig for swig, except Carrots who declined. It didn't take long for the bottle to empty and Joel felt quite light-headed. The wine seemed to have no effect on Bryant, but Kramer was giggling and being silly. Suddenly a voice disturbed the boys.<br />
"What have we here then?" it was Harris and he sounded smug but his two cronies looked nervous.<br />
<br />
The younger boys outnumbered them five to three and Carrots was the biggest of all of all the boys. Joel looked daggers at the bullies. He swore at them belligerently.<br />
"Tsk tsk, profanity; will you never learn?" Harris asked cockily.<br />
"It's you who needs a lesson" Joel said moving forward.<br />
<br />
He had endured half a term of derision with his disability but now Joel was deemed out of danger with his head injuries. Right from the off this term Joel decided he wasn't going to put up with the verbal abuse, from anyone. He sensed more than saw Carrots and Bryant standing behind him. Harris glanced back at Stone and Tyrell. For the first time he realised they were scared and he was suddenly on edge himself. Trying to sound confident, he warned:<br />
"I will let it go this time"<br />
"I won't" Joel said sensing the fear, his wine muscles had kicked in.<br />
<br />
Months of frustration at having to take all the ridicule and insults sought and found an outlet. For the first time he could openly confront Harris without having to worry about Tyrell and Stone. Joel lashed out with a fist catching Harris in the mouth. Carrots, Bryant, Davis, and Kramer started towards the other bullies who turned and ran. Harris was sat on his backside holding his bleeding lip.<br />
"You will pay for that, you oik" he said arrogantly, his anger temporarily overcoming his fear.<br />
<br />
Kramer put his face close to Harris and growled:<br />
"No Harris, you will. It's payback time"<br />
<br />
Kramer had taken over and Joel was happy to let him, but had no idea what the boy had in mind. He ordered Bryant and Carrots to get hold of Harris by the arms. Harris struggled and Joel thumped him in the stomach. It felt really good knowing Harris was feeling how he had made others feel. Harris started to plead with his tormentors, even offering money to be left alone. Joel felt ashamed for his desire to hurt the cringing bully. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost.<br />
<br />
The noise of the hounds was off in the distance and they were headed towards the boys. Quickly they left the whimpering Harris and ducked into the trees off to one side. Harris ran off back towards the Gatehouse. The boys hid the bottle and walked around the woods smoking cigarettes to kill some more time before heading back to the Lodge. They went to dinner in good spirits. Harris wouldn't try anything now his cronies had been shown to be cowards. They had always picked on easy targets but as with most bullies, they would keep away from those who could fight back. At least that was what Joel thought.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
For the first couple of weeks Joel was an absolute nightmare. All the jibes and cutting comments from the previous term had been stored inside his head. Several fights, and subsequent canings later, Joel's peers realised the free ride on the insults train was over. The jibes dried up from most quarters. As he was no longer seeing the doctor once a week, Joel was allowed to take part in sports again, although rugby might have been frowned upon had he told the doctor. Contact sports were off the menu, but Joel never told the teachers either. Rugby was just the best game ever. It was the second half of the rugby season and Joel's year were coached by Sprotty now. He was a lot better because he didn't pick favourites like Dinosaur. Joel was soon back at hooker and Kramer at scrum half.<br />
<br />
Dinosaur had played both boys in the wrong positions but Sprotty recognised their potential. With Kramer feeding the ball in to Joel the boys developed a strong understanding which spilled over from the pitch. In the first game back, the boys were to play at home against the grammar school from the next town. It was Joel's first game for the under-14's and the game was relatively easy for the Forester boys who won convincingly.<br />
<br />
After the game a buffet was laid on for the teams in the dining hall and speeches were given. The speeches congratulated, or commiserated with opponents and each school presented a small silver cup to their player of the day. Most of the press-ganged supporters watched the First XV but sometimes it was the younger teams in the spotlight. With some of the 'characters' in Joel's year there was the potential for such a team. Joel missed the first term under Sprotty and Forester lost their first game against Saint's College the team Forester usually vied with for second place. The military school Rangers almost always won the inter-school league.<br />
<br />
A disappointing draw against one of the weaker schools followed before Forester started winning. This current victory was the best so far and Joel played a big part in it even though it was Robson the winger who was nominated player of the day. Sprotty was pleased, the grammar school they played were capable of giving anyone a good match.<br />
<br />
Joel was enjoying the mandatory SCF training, putting in the best time for his year on the assault course. He used swing about in trees with the village boys, the assault course came easy to him. Drill was regarded a pain, and extra drill served as a punishment. With Kramer's penchant for mischief, the boys found themselves on the parade ground more than most. By far the best part for most boys was the rifle range where they were taught to shoot .303 Enfield's. The boys learnt how to break down a Bren gun and reassemble it. It was the stuff of schoolboy dreams.<br />
<br />
Joel's school-work improved slowly where he took an interest, and his friendship with Kramer grew. The boys became inseparable and Kramer began to neglect others. He was becoming isolated just like Joel. It didn't go unnoticed. Joel had become a little less volatile but was still prone to mood swings which could turn violent. He was more explosive in some ways. Joel still didn't fit in but he stood out less and he ruthlessly protected his current status.<br />
<br />
Mr. Barlow took physics but was also the highest ranking officer in the SCF. He hated Joel with a vengeance and the feeling was mutual. Unfortunately for Joel, all the other boys were aware of it and saw the situation as an opportunity to taunt both pupil and teacher. They would irritate and annoy Joel who would become increasingly agitated. Barlow would notice and it was always Joel who was blamed. Joel had been hit by all manner of flying objects, this time it was a crisp lump of white chalk that bounced off his head. Buster who was sat behind Joel had been kicking his chair and as soon as Joel turned round Barlow struck.<br />
"PAY ATTENTION BOY!" the teacher bellowed and Buster sniggered.<br />
<br />
The velocity of the chalk made it shatter, but it still hurt. Joel rubbed his head and gave the teacher a filthy look. Barlow's eyes met Joel's. The boy held the teacher's gaze, with the look of pure hatred he had perfected. Joel was capable of curdling milk with a look. His eyes seemed to darken in anger and one boy said he looked evil. Barlow blinked.<br />
"What was I saying?" he demanded and Joel shrugged sulkily.<br />
<br />
Since the accident Joel heard very little Barlow said, the words muffled by the ringing in his injured ear.<br />
"I don't know" Joel admitted.<br />
"I don't know, SIR!" Barlow corrected.<br />
"That's two of us then" Joel said with a glint in his eye.<br />
"Out. OUT! Go and stand outside the Headmaster's study and when he sees you, you can explain why you are there!"<br />
<br />
Joel looked quizzical. He knew exactly why, but thought he could still raise Barlow's blood pressure a little more.<br />
"I don't know.... Sir" Joel said finally then added "I could probably guess, I mean when one fails to achieve their goals, one has this terrible sense of failure and self-loathing. By transferring the inner hatred, outward, a temporary respite occurs" he philosophised in his best upper class accent.<br />
<br />
It took a few seconds for what he had said to sink in, then Barlow's face began to glow. 'Time to leave' Joel thought and headed for the door.<br />
"INSOLENCE BOY, INSOLENCE" Barlow boomed amid the erupting laughter.<br />
<br />
Barlow had been passed over for the position of assistant head some years previously and everyone knew his resentment. The primal instincts of the boys were in full swing and they sought weakness. Oddly enough it was generally the teachers who tried to be nice and see some good in the boys, who fell prey to the rabid wolf cubs. Herrn didn't fall into that category. He was certainly the most laid back teacher, but the boys knew not to mess with him. Joel hadn't started learning German yet but it was inevitable his path would cross with that of Herrn.<br />
<br />
Stood outside the Headmaster's study, Joel anxiously looked at the clock on the wall in the corridor. The second hand seemed to tick so slowly. Minute after minute passed as Joel awaited the study door opening and discovery. If he could get through until the bell rang, he would have to go to his next lesson and would escape punishment. Joel always received six strokes from the Headmaster. Generally the boys received either four or six strokes of the cane, but regular visitors like Joel were guaranteed the maximum.<br />
<br />
Three more minutes. One hundred and eighty seconds. Joel started counting back as his eyes followed the path of the second hand. He was down to seventy-three when the Head's secretary walked past Joel with barely a glance and knocked on the study door. 'Damn, now the Headmaster will be informed a miscreant is in need of attention'.<br />
"Enter!" came the voice from inside the study and the secretary went in, closing the door behind her.<br />
<br />
Joel's eyes went back to the clock. Now the race against time was entering the final crucial climax. 'Come on, come on, come onnnnn' Joel thought urging the clock to tick faster and the bell to sound.<br />
<br />
The study door opened again.<br />
"....and send that boy in" the Headmaster ordered and Joel's heart sank.<br />
<br />
The bell chose that moment to ring, almost as if to mock the boy. Joel went into the study and the Headmaster who was reading a document, looked up through his eyebrows at the boy.<br />
"I might have guessed" the Headmaster sighed "Who, what, why?"<br />
"Mr.Barlow, insolence, not listening" Joel reeled off.<br />
"I meant why did you do it?"<br />
"I don't know.... Sir" Joel answered with a deliberate pause.<br />
<br />
The Headmaster wouldn't recognise the significance of the pause right then but no doubt he would later, after speaking to Barlow. It would be too late then, he wouldn't get another six.<br />
"Why are you smirking boy? I can understand Mr.Barlow's frustration" the Headmaster admonished as he strode purposefully to the rack full of canes on the wall.<br />
"Bend over" he said selecting one and Joel assumed the position.<br />
<br />
The audible swish of the cane was quickly followed by a sharp stinging sensation on the buttocks. Joel was glad the Headmaster had a slow rhythm. It allowed the boy to move very slightly, thus changing the point of impact. There was nothing worse than getting hit in the same place. The punishment was over quite quickly, resisting the urge to rub his wounded area Joel offered his hand to the Headmaster who shook it. The Headmaster thought - quite correctly - Joel did it as an act of defiance. Now he had doubts, it seemed to come naturally.<br />
"Thank you.... Sir" Joel said once again adding the pause.<br />
"Get to your class" the Headmaster said softly and shook his head sadly as the boy left the study.<br />
<br />
Joel went to his next classroom, knocked on the door and entered.<br />
"What kept you master Phillips?" the maths teacher enquired.<br />
"He was getting beaten for insolence Sir" Buster crowed and the other boys laughed.<br />
"Silence!" the teacher snapped.<br />
"Pretty much what he said Sir" Joel answered when the laughter died down.<br />
"Sit down.... as gingerly as you like" the teacher quipped and laughter broke out again.<br />
<br />
Joel deliberately sat back in his chair hard, his face expressionless. His backside hurt but only he would ever know that.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
Forester Grammar were flying in the inter-schools rugby championship in all but the first and second years. Joel's year were winning consistently now. With Joel back at hooker and the almost telepathic understanding he had with Kramer made the Forester scrum formidable. Add to that Carrots and Buster for sheer bulk and there were very few teams to touch them.<br />
<br />
There was an added bite to the next game for Joel, it was against the local Comprehensive school. Joel thought of the boys in the park. It was time for retribution. During the game Joel deployed some tactics which could only be described as 'ungentlemanly', and when Kramer saw what was going on, he too began using underhanded tactics. Buster was a little slower to catch on and a lot less subtle when he did. Joel tried to make crunching tackles look accidental, a result of over-enthusiasm. It was in the rucks and mauls where the real damage was done. Any exposed vital areas during a loose maul would be hit, bitten, or trodden on, after a quick glance at the referee's whereabouts.<br />
<br />
The end product was the Comprehensive boys, who clearly hadn't been subjected to such tactics before, suddenly had a loathing for the ball, and their haste to get rid of it made Forester look good. Forester hammered the Comprehensive school out of sight.<br />
<br />
Rugby aside, it is difficult to take too many positives from Joel's life since going to Forester. The highs were few and far between but the lows just kept coming. Every day was a mental battle of wits with peers and teachers alike. His growing friendship with Kramer had saved some abuse but some boys just couldn't help themselves when it came to mocking a disability. The inability to hear made it difficult to know if someone was laughing at Joel or at something else. Eye contact was Joel's measure but it didn't always work. On average he had been fighting twice a week before the current lull, and consequently getting caned a similar number of times.<br />
<br />
With Joel trouble was never far away and it had been too quiet, too long. It was then Joel saw two boys whom he suspected had been talking behind his back. They had made comments when he was incapacitated and Joel hadn't forgotten it. As Joel walked past the boys they laughed. Almost in reflex Joel swung a fist at the nearest, hitting the boy on the cheekbone. He fell over and Joel grabbed the other boy in a headlock, swinging him round. He tripped over the first boy on the ground and fell on top of him.<br />
"Think it's funny?" Joel raged at the boys.<br />
"We didn't do anything!" one protested.<br />
"Bastards!" Joel kicked out.<br />
<br />
The red mist descended. It was the same red mist that saw Harris in sick bay. In all the altercations Joel had, this was only the second time he lost control. Joel lashed out punching and kicking the two boys who covered themselves with their arms. A passing prefect put his hand on Joel's shoulder. He turned and swung blindly catching the prefect square on the chin and the older boy went down as if pole-axed. The mist evaporated as though a hypnotist had snapped his fingers bringing Joel out of a trance. He spotted Herrn approaching.<br />
"Phillips! Gymnasium after school in your PE kit"<br />
<br />
Joel spent the rest of the day wondering what Herrn had in store for him. At least Herrn was dealing with it and there wouldn't be the chance of another letter home. Whatever Herrn had in mind couldn't be worse than his father's belt. Word had gone round and the other boys were equally intrigued to find out what Herrn would do. Joel didn't care what the punishment would be, it was far better than facing his father and a pile of letters when he went home at the holidays. One of the boys Joel hit approached him before the last lesson. With a worried look on his face, he said:<br />
"We weren't laughing at you Phillips, honest"<br />
"Maybe not then, but you did last term!"<br />
<br />
The boy looked shame-faced down at his shoes.<br />
"I'm sorry"<br />
"Forget it" Joel said suddenly feeling guilty he'd hit the boy.<br />
<br />
The last lesson Joel didn't concentrate at all. Thoughts of what Herrn was going to do flitted across his mind, but generally he was thinking of his behaviour and temper. 'What was wrong with me?' he thought for the umpteenth time as his eyes glazed and he fought hard not to let the tears emerge. The bell brought Joel out of his 'day-mare' and he went to get changed. Kramer came in.<br />
"What is Herrn going to do?"<br />
"How the hell do I know" answered with irritation, worry made Joel snappy.<br />
<br />
Joel went to the gym and saw a lot of boys lining the windows outside. Whatever Herrn had in mind it was going to be very public. Herrn was in the gym in his shirt sleeves, a cigarette in his mouth. At his feet was two pairs of boxing gloves, a tennis racket, and a stack of tennis balls. Joel was confused and more than a little worried. Herrn put the cigarette out and threw Joel a pair of gloves.<br />
"Put them on" he said, putting the other pair on himself.<br />
<br />
With a frown Joel obeyed.<br />
"Why were you fighting this time?"<br />
"I thought they were laughing at me because I'm deaf, Sir"<br />
"Okay, you think you are tough, now you can show me. Hit me"<br />
"I don't want to, Sir"<br />
"Didn't you hear me, DEAF BOY? Hit me!"<br />
"Please Sir, I don't want to"<br />
"Little DEAF BOY lost his balls, has he?" Joel wasn't biting, he knew exactly what Herrn was doing.<br />
<br />
Herrn didn't give up and for a full five minutes he taunted and ridiculed the boy. Making a decision Joel thought he would launch himself at the teacher and catch him off guard. As Herrn started to speak again Joel threw himself at the teacher arms flailing everywhere. Herrn was ready for the boy. Vaguely aware of, and encouraged by a cheer from the watching boys outside, Joel launched attack after attack on Herrn. Herrn fended the boy off easily and then lashed out.<br />
<br />
It was just one hit in the solar plexus and Joel found himself careening backwards, the wind taken out of his sails. He sat back on the floor hard. It felt like he'd been kicked by a mule. Joel just sat there trying to get his breath back and watched Herrn take his gloves off.<br />
"Gloves off, and give me twenty circuits"<br />
<br />
Circuits were easy, Joel didn't mind running laps of the gym at all. He took the gloves off and began to trot round slowly. Herrn picked up the tennis racket and a couple of balls. He hit one at Joel, stinging the top of his leg.<br />
"Faster, unless you want to make it easy for me"<br />
<br />
Another direct hit on the shoulder encouraged Joel, and he ran faster. Each time Joel slowed down he would get another direct hit and cursed silently. He couldn't help but admire the teacher's accuracy. The boys peering through the windows let out a cheer on each hit. When it was over Joel was bruised and sweating.<br />
"Get yourself showered" Herrn said softly and lit another cigarette as he left the gym.<br />
<br />
Joel laughed. He really liked Herrn, or maybe it was respect. Liking a teacher wasn't done, they are the enemy!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
The penultimate game of the rugby season was against arch rivals Rangers. Rangers had already won the league and had yet to lose but Forester were on a roll. The emphasis would be on the forwards to do the work, it was the only area Forester had an edge. The preparation was good but Rangers had a right winger who outpaced the Forester defence every time. By half time Rangers led and Sprotty called the boys into a huddle.<br />
"You have to stop their winger. Get tight on him!"<br />
<br />
The second half began and Rangers immediately fed the ball out to the nippy winger. His pace was electric and he ran in another try. Forester pulled back almost immediately with a penalty, then for some time after the two teams were locked in stalemate. Joel was determined to do something about the winger and stayed close. When he eventually received the ball it was a 'hospital pass'. He had barely caught the ball when Joel piled into him at full tilt. The boy was knocked off the field and sent sprawling into a line of boys who were watching the game. The winger was shaken but continued. This signalled the onset of some heavy tackles and the game became spiteful.<br />
<br />
Rangers may have been better ball players but when it came to rucking there wasn’t a school to match Forester and they began to eat into the deficit. The next time the winger received the ball he knew what to expect and jinked past Joel. Incensed he gave chase. The winger had the acceleration but once Joel had a head of steam he started catching up fast. The nervous winger kept glancing over his shoulder as Joel thundered after him. It was as the winger glanced back one more time that Kramer body-checked him. The winger bounced back off Kramer just as Joel thundered into the back of him. The referee blew his whistle angrily and the Rangers coach came on to assess the damage to his star player. The boy couldn’t continue and was replaced by a boy that looked bigger - and older - than all but the referee.<br />
"I think you broke him" Buster said laughing and further enraged their opponents.<br />
<br />
Joel was earmarked for special attention and found himself getting hit hard with some crunching tackles. As Forester pushed for the try which would level up the game a loose maul developed and the Rangers substitute found himself with his head poking out of the Forester end of the ruck. Only minutes early the boy had hurt Joel who now saw a chance of revenge. Oblivious to the referee right behind him, Joel kneed the big substitute in the head and as the maul broke up he fell to the floor.<br />
<br />
One of the Rangers players swung a fist at Joel but missed and was kicked between the legs for his pains. The boy doubled over and all hell broke loose as both teams squared up to each other. It took several teachers to break up the mass brawl that ensued. When the dust had settled Joel was sent off.<br />
Forester lost the game and Joel was deemed to have disgraced the school. He was the first pupil in the history of the school to be sent off a field of play. On Monday morning as the boys gathered in the hall, Joel saw the cane on top of the Headmaster's desk. The sending off was to cost him his second public flogging, he would be the first boy since Keats to get more than one. After the singing of Jerusalem the Headmaster addressed the assembly.<br />
"The good name of the school has been sullied. Never before has such disgraceful behaviour been observed on a sports field by a Forester boy"<br />
<br />
The Headmaster paused briefly and was staring right at Joel when he carried on with his speech.<br />
"Even though one individual – the main protagonist – was sent from the field of play, it was evident that others allowed their discipline to slip and joined the melee. This type of behaviour will not be tolerated. Phillips! Come here!"<br />
<br />
<div>
Joel had been expecting it and he made his way to the stage. The Headmaster didn’t have to tell him this time, Joel rested his upper body across the desk as he had before. Joel offered his customary handshake when the caning was over but the Headmaster would never publicly accept the hand. The small act of defiance divided opinion about the boy. To some teachers Joel was an insolent trouble-maker, but to one or two they saw a quality in the boy. He had spirit which should be harnessed, not have it beaten out of him. It was for those teachers Joel did well.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-90416768661206860032015-11-12T11:31:00.001+00:002021-05-23T11:16:27.558+01:00Salad Days.01<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16OYW1ynTAoppwmcdrM0nf7hSwesEKEgnY4CjutZs3y1lGXJ1vjHgvrKqt7P_vLHdz0r-fkqflQ6PQDSLVkTapBbS_jBFTRaSf6ZqtnFO-vTm548hDmaSwW5-pfasC8upXkm0-HEZjLQ/s1600/Simple_world_mapjm.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16OYW1ynTAoppwmcdrM0nf7hSwesEKEgnY4CjutZs3y1lGXJ1vjHgvrKqt7P_vLHdz0r-fkqflQ6PQDSLVkTapBbS_jBFTRaSf6ZqtnFO-vTm548hDmaSwW5-pfasC8upXkm0-HEZjLQ/s640/Simple_world_mapjm.png" width="640" /></a>
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The map above is a rough representation of countries I have visited. These are shown in the white areas. Over the coming weeks I will post about each ship I worked on in turn. The countries will be designated a colour depending on how positive, or otherwise, I was about my experiences there. Some countries I visited many times but I will give a holistic assessment of my visits.<br />
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My first ventures off our island were as a kid. My mother would organise a day-trip across to Calais from one of the ports in the south east. Ramsgate and Dover both had the hovercraft which was the favoured method of travel by most as it was the fastest. I preferred the ferry boats that sailed from both ports and Folkestone as well. It was more of an adventure on a ship, on the hovercraft I had to sit down and not move around.<br />
<br />
The catalyst for my fascination with travel was a school trip to Germany. Every sight, sound, smell, was absorbed hungrily. Even then there were clues to life. The journey was every bit as important as the destination, and I was in no hurry to get there. Every aspect of the journey was an adventure, the coach to Dover, the ferry to ZeeBrugge, and even the seemingly endless train journey. I watched the countryside which at first looked just like England, only the towns and cities indicated I was in a foreign land. I didn't need to see signs, architecture gave it away.<br />
<br />
My heart was almost in my mouth but in a strangely exhilarating way. Nervous excitement, like waiting your turn on the roller-coaster. It felt good. After Germany I had my first trip to France without parents when I went with my friend and his brother. It was the first of many. Joining the merchant navy was the obvious thing to do even though I swore I never would. My father went into the merchant navy after leaving the coal mines and was always away from home.<br />
<br />
This brings us to my first deep sea ship and the beginning of the odd odyssey that over a decade took me around the globe. That first ship was a super tanker, the biggest ship on the ocean when it was built, but others had exceeded it by the time I joined. It was a mere 250,000 tonnes and was as wide as the ferry boats were long. This leviathan could only muster 13 knots at full ahead and took twenty minutes or 8 miles to stop once under a head of steam.<br />
<br />
I flew from Heathrow airport to Dubai in the United Arab Emirates with no knowledge of the country whatsoever. I dropped geography in favour of languages at school, mostly because I hated the geography teacher, the upshot being I hadn't even heard of the UAE. Having spent the night in a west London hotel, I felt a little special. I was just a fresh-faced kid but had never felt so adult. The solitude didn't bother me, I was used to it by then.<br />
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It was getting on for autumn and the weather was showery. I had my trusty mac on with a trilby hat trying for all the world to look like Dick Tracy. My collars were raised to cover as much of my face as possible. I wasn't horribly disfigured although it felt that way. I just wanted to hide the fact my chin had never seen a razor blade. Getting served beer was easier than it was at home, I guess they never expected a kid to be out on his own in the backstreet pubs of the west end.<br />
<br />
Ten pounds was enough to get me relatively merry back then but I was reluctant to go back to the hotel. That would mean sleep and the experience would move to the next step. I wanted every moment to last as long as possible. The past five years had been traumatic, the last the worst. I had spent so much time just surviving I'd stopped living. Stuck in an existence, a rut, a bad situation beyond my control, one that too many find themselves in today.<br />
<br />
Wandering the empty streets I looked at the buildings, marvelling at the architecture not seen in the Lego-like village where I grew up. I stumbled upon a huge museum, aesthetic lighting enhancing every arch and chiselled column. For fully five minutes I just stood gawping in awe at the amazing artistry that went into the construction.<br />
<br />
The next morning a coach took me to Heathrow, the first time I had been in an airport. People were tense and fidgety but I was like I had just been handed the keys to a chocolate factory. I only had one suitcase which was jammed shut and a hold-all for the excess. In order to take as much as possible I wore my three-piece suit and my 'Dick Tracy' mac, it seemed appropriate. Somebody told me it was cold at night in the desert and having looked at an atlas, that was where I believed I was going.<br />
<br />
Stop-overs in Munich and Kuwait meant we wouldn't get to Dubai until evening. I flew Singapore Airlines on a 747 Jumbo Jet and enjoyed this new experience. Drinks were complimentary and I had a steady supply of gin and tonic brought to me by the hostesses. On top of that I was given a pack of cards, travel chess set, and a magazine. I didn't read it on the plane as I never tired of looking out of the window.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqKuKleLENAiZGLZzMwUVKFhuUuBqBkTRab5PSVX-kHRaIU-aZrqfPTQ1ADyfy6Kki3pH_he339HRCalNJQfytuVawD6i3D94t9vAdvF04a0rDAyACf_RVq9p3delnZPlPFfoInFx1V4/s1600/mmbgv.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqKuKleLENAiZGLZzMwUVKFhuUuBqBkTRab5PSVX-kHRaIU-aZrqfPTQ1ADyfy6Kki3pH_he339HRCalNJQfytuVawD6i3D94t9vAdvF04a0rDAyACf_RVq9p3delnZPlPFfoInFx1V4/s320/mmbgv.png" width="320" /></a>The first sign of my naivety was when we finally touched down in Dubai. As I set foot on foreign soil I was aware of a furnace like blast of warm air. Having never flown on a jet before I thought it was coming from the engines, as I moved away from the plane I realised it wasn't. Suddenly I felt overdressed. The second sign of my naivety followed almost immediately afterwards.<br />
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Unknown to me there had been security threats and the odd hijacking here or there. As the passengers queued to board a bus, armed guards were taking their landing cards. I asked the person next to me what was happening as I joined the queue. When he told me I realised I had left my landing card on the plane. Without thinking I dashed back to the plane to get it. I ignored an unintelligible shout behind me then heard a kind of splat as a bullet whistled over my head. I <b><i>assume</i></b> it was a warning shot.<br />
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If it was it certainly had the desired effect as I swung round abruptly, unsure of what had just happened. Then I saw the guards running towards me with guns at the ready. They were shouting but I didn't understand. Taking a wild guess I dropped my hold-all and put my hands on my head. They kept yelling at me as one patted me down and another cautiously opened my hold-all. Eventually an English speaker asked what I was doing and when I explained the guards relaxed. They still looked a bit angry but I saw the funny side of it. Five minutes in a foreign country and I was getting shot at.<br />
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I managed to clear customs without any further drama and a taxi took me to hotel. It was one of the best hotels at the time, before twenty years of building work saw others dwarfing it. The air conditioning was like an icy blast but most welcome. I was allocated a room and the 'boy' took me to my room. They were referred to as boys but were actually adults. The first thing I saw in the room was a hockey stick, presumably left by the previous occupant. It was a weird thing to find in a hotel room and I tried to give it to the boy. He shook his head and made a chopping motion with his hand across his wrist. It was though he believed he would have his hand chopped off for stealing it.<br />
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Although I thought the gesticulating to be overly dramatic, I shrugged and decided I'd keep it. The company's agent came to see me and was apologetic stating the ship was delayed three days and I would have to stay at the hotel. I could just sign for food and non-alcoholic beverages. The guy looked at me as though I would take the news badly but it was the best news I'd heard. I tried caviar, just because it was on the menu. I hated it and just ate the biscuits it was served on. The gateau trolley was my favourite. Down in the bar I had a result as well, coming to an arrangement with the barman whereby Martini was classified as a soft drink. I felt like James Bond.<br />
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Walking around the city I saw the other side of life in Dubai. Homeless people were sleeping on flattened cardboard boxes in doorways. There was a fine powdery sand covering the paving stones and i walked to the edge of town. I headed into the desert up a dune just to see how far I could go. The sand was very fine, not like beach sand at home. Walking through it became an effort after just a short space of time. I turned back and headed for the hotel bar.<br />
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The days passed and eventually a taxi took me to a launch. The sky blue waters were amazing as we sped across them on a high powered launch. It took well over an hour before one of the launch crew pointed up ahead and I saw the ship for the first time. I was glad to see it, I was sweating buckets. Because there was no room in my case I was wearing my three-piece suit and mac in 110 degree heat. If that wasn't enough I was carrying the hockey stick I found in the room. The ship didn't look much at first but as the launch drew closer I started to realise just how big it was. Being light-ship (no cargo on board) it towered above the water, getting up the gangway was to prove difficult.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #073763;">It was with some effort I struggled up the gangway with case in one hand, hold-all in the other, and hockey stick in my teeth. The First Mate was at the top of the gangway to welcome me aboard but when he saw how I was dressed, and the hockey stick in my mouth, he closed his eyes and shook his head sadly.</span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-43088941001822253302015-10-12T11:34:00.001+01:002023-06-25T13:02:52.707+01:00Salad Days.02<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><br /></b><b>The first thing that struck me when I stepped aboard the super-tanker was how many skinheads there were on board. There were at least eight crew members with shaved heads and it was a little unsettling, not because they looked like skinheads, more because they looked liked mental asylum inmates. We sailed to Ras Tanura in Saudi Arabia but nobody went ashore. The deep water berths to accommodate the huge ships were well away from civilisation. Besides anything else we wouldn't have been able to get a beer anyway. There was strictly no alcohol in Saudi Arabia. It took just three days to load and we were under way.</b><br />
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It was quite a new experience sailing on such a big ship. There was very little pitch and roll even in bad weather, the ship sliced through waves effortlessly. The problem was when out on deck. Other ships would hurl some spray at you but on this ship when a wave broke over the bow a wall of water came rushing at you. At intervals all along the ship were 'bus-shelters' to jump into when a wave hit, the danger of being washed over the side was very real. We sailed through the Straits of Hormuz and headed south into the Indian Ocean.<br />
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I soon found out the 'skinheads' were those who 'crossed the line' for the first time. The line was the equator and sea-farers had a tradition in honour of King Neptune. Part of this involved shaving the head. The ceremonies varied considerably from ship to ship and mine was of a pretty mundane type. In a future post I will intimate one of the more 'interesting' ceremonies I witnessed.<br />
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We were bound for Cape Town where we would take on stores before sailing up the west coast of Africa. My memories of the passage through the Indian Ocean are hazy as I spent a good portion of it laid up. The first problem I had was heat exhaustion but at least it made the sunburn tolerable. We worked in just a pair of shorts but unlike the others I hadn't acclimatised. They had sailed into the heat over the course of weeks, I had flown into it in hours. Nor had I a suntan whilst all the others were brown as berries. Foolishly I tried to hurry my tan along and was quite badly burned.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_PfeCu406PVqOSqmZBXPCCZ2udx_Hon5MIAOll7TshreaLZUwb0eyZGAyl1nGCQFFyLcS7J4Kh4x2PJNWoy0ZL_1mViRcywB2yR1VTiTNbsVMOn6NB8i3skaL6hOO-gsZAxV4WR8jHY/s1600/Untitled.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_PfeCu406PVqOSqmZBXPCCZ2udx_Hon5MIAOll7TshreaLZUwb0eyZGAyl1nGCQFFyLcS7J4Kh4x2PJNWoy0ZL_1mViRcywB2yR1VTiTNbsVMOn6NB8i3skaL6hOO-gsZAxV4WR8jHY/s400/Untitled.jpg" width="302" /></a>I barely noticed, I was too busy falling asleep. The other mistake I had made was not taking salt tablets. Having never worked in such heat before I didn't realise the importance and as I didn't like taking tablets, I didn't bother. It probably contributed to me getting heat exhaustion. That was a weird experience but not entirely unpleasant. It was in effect like narcolepsy as I would just randomly fall asleep.<br />
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It could happen any time but as much as it was funny, to a degree, it was also quite dangerous. A few times I fell asleep standing up and on separate falls I injured a knee and cracked my head open. I was lucky it wasn't more serious. By the time we reached Cape Town I was somewhere near normal - as normal as I get anyway - and I looked longingly at the shore. We had only rare sights of land since we left the Arabian Sea and not this close up. Table Mountain was probably the catalyst for my obsession with climbing mountains.<br />
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Mountains were visible from the sea when no other land was in sight. For a seaman they were beacons, lures, the promise of terra firma and respite from the constant motion of the ship.<br />
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The stores were loaded from launches off Cape Town and looking out over the sea it looked flat calm. It was deceptive. This was where the Indian and Atlantic Oceans met, causing massive swells even when all appears calm. The lack of white water lulled us into a false sense of security but as we sat drifting the ship began to roll ominously. The Cape Rollers pushed us one way then we righted in the trough before another huge swell pushed us back once again.<br />
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This rhythmic rocking on such a huge ship wasn't unsettling though it made loading the stores entertaining. The problem came when every so often as the rolling built up momentum, we became out of sync with the swell and a roller would break over the deck. In my youth it was an adrenaline rush getting thrown across the deck or hanging on to a handrail for dear life. We always kept a wary eye out for one breaking over the deck and could usually tell when it would happen. There was then the mad dash for the bus-shelters. Inevitably one or two of us would be caught out and the others would laugh. It was great fun as long as nobody died.<br />
<i><br /></i><i>[I did go ashore in Cape Town another time and will include it in a future post]</i><br />
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Working on the 12-4 watch was when I really started to become interested in the stars and constellations. Midnight to four in the morning was the perfect time for it too. I was fascinated by the new stars I had never seen before. It was my first time in the southern hemisphere and I had never seen the Milky Way like this before. I wanted to know everything and was fortunate the officer on watch was an expert navigator and willing teacher. This sparked my interest with the celestial bodies. Others said watch-keeping was boring but I would have happily paid for the experience.<br />
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The ship developed some engine problems and we anchored off Fuerteventura to get divers down. We lowered a floating pontoon for the divers to work off and three of us tended them. It was good, the weather was bright sunshine and the sea calm. We drank beer as the divers worked. The sea was inviting and we swam around happily, despite being told about the Hammerhead sharks. The divers had mentioned there were a few but we only saw one. We had assumed because the divers were in the water with them, these weird looking fish were harmless. It pays not to assume, we were later told they can be dangerous but they left us alone.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #20124d;">The Straits of Gibraltar were the next highlight. Only 18 miles separated the continents of Africa and Europe at this point. On the port side was Gibraltar looking like an island and to starboard were the Atlas mountains. We entered the Mediterranean Sea bound for Italy where for the first time in a couple of months my feet would be on dry land. Or so I thought.</span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-44645983235010190222015-09-12T11:40:00.000+01:002018-05-10T21:52:15.153+01:00Salad Days.03<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><br /></b><b><br /></b><b>Savona was the first port we docked at since leaving Saudi Arabia. As we didn't even get ashore there it had been four months since the other crew members had been off the ship. Joining in Dubai it had only been a couple of months for me. Sights of land were at a premium. The ship was generally 50 miles from the coast at a minimum, so we had just occasional glimpses of the great continent of Africa off our starboard side. The Straits of Gibraltar were like a welcome mat guiding us back to civilisation from the vast ocean. For a time, the Dark Continent remained a mystery to me. As we sailed into the port of Savona the Chief Steward asked me for my inoculation certificates.</b><br />
<b>"Umm, didn't know I needed any"</b><br />
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At the merchant navy office they assumed I knew I would need injections so neglected to tell me about it. My stay in the UAE was the only time I had touched foreign soil (sand) but it was enough to cause quite a stir among the Italians. A medical team came on board with white disposable overalls and masks. It seemed a bit overkill, if I had any disease I should have died from it in the two months since leaving the Gulf. Nevertheless I was given a number of injections and told I was quarantined for three days. It was a real kick in the teeth watching everybody going ashore and coming back with tales of mayhem and debauchery.<br />
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Merchant seamen always had a bad name in polite society, but shore-siders didn't realise it took a special mentality to go to sea. It may seem an exciting life, and it was. When it was good there was no better life. Travelling to distant lands, seeing new sights, climates, and cultures. When it was bad there was nothing worse. A floating prison tossed around in a hurricane, half an ocean away from dry land. You try to sleep on the deck of your cabin so as not to get tossed from your bunk, but it's impossible. Like trying to sleep on a roller coaster. This can last for days on end and you are constantly aware of your own insignificance, your inability to effect change. It is a truly humbling experience. Is it any wonder then that seamen are so rambunctious when hitting land.<br />
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We sailed, but thankfully it was just a short jaunt to Genova where I would finally get ashore. I did that all right, and before anybody else. We had just tied up and were taking bond on board (cigarettes and alcohol). Making a human chain we manhandled the boxes to the store. Some of the cigarette boxes had a steel band around them and inevitably I managed to slice my finger. It was a good one, right down to the bone, and an ambulance was called.<br />
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It took an hour and a half to arrive and despite all the dressings I had lost a lot of blood. I knew that because I was starting to feel light-headed, almost drunk. With my background I was no stranger to hospitals but the one in Italy was vastly different to ones I'd 'visited' before. There were kids running around unsupervised and a couple of people had their dogs with them. It just seemed chaotic. When I was taken in to be stitched up they insisted I lay out on a table as they did it, despite the injury being to my finger..<br />
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I wanted to see what they were doing and tried to look.but a nurse turned my head back. In the end the doctor said something and she let me watch. The doctor then said something else I didn't understand and she left the room. She came back seconds later with a woman who had a cut over the bridge of her nose. The woman looked worried and I assume they brought her in to see by my lack of concern, having stitches was nothing to worry about.<br />
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Eventually they let me go and the city was now mine to explore. I had a couple of hours before the rest of the crew would be ashore so I headed to the bar nearest the dock gate. It was always a starting point. This was also known by the local bar owners and they were geared up to cater for visiting seamen. Due to my age and appearance I always worried about getting beer at first, but never had a problem abroad. I don't know if the laws were different or whether it was just because I spoke a different language but I was never refused a beer. In the bar I was quickly pounced on by a lady of ill-repute and though never my intent, negotiations were entered into. The experience was not one I would want to repeat, it just felt sordid.*<br />
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<i>*it was also quite amusing.... after the fact</i><br />
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The crew eventually arrived - shortly after I didn't - and we set down to some serious drinking, and a lot of raucous singing. When we were all turfed out of the cells at 6am the next morning, I was still in a daze. Memories of the previous evening were hazy at best. It was like the blood-loss had given the alcohol added potency. We were all arrested when riot police with white batons came charging into the bar after a dispute. I vaguely remember being bundled into a van with the others at gunpoint but nothing else. It transpired that during the day we were being charged at a cheaper rate for beer than after 7pm, the sudden price rise caused the unrest.<br />
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The next morning we were let out but the police weren't stupid, they were letting us out one at a time at 20 minute intervals. I stumbled around the early morning streets of Genova without a clue of where I was or where to go. As I walked past a building the door was slightly ajar. Still dazed and needing more sleep I went inside and saw stairs rising in front of me. They were somehow inviting so I closed the door and lay on the stairs, falling asleep instantly. A pounding at the door woke me and I opened it to find a very angry looking Italian gentleman holding a newspaper. He must have popped to the shop quickly and felt no need to close his door.<br />
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He shouted and gesticulated as I walked past him and stumbled down the road.<br />
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On a subsequent visit to Italy a few years later, I was in a bar when I saw my friend from school. At first we just kept glancing at each other thinking it unlikely to see the other in such an obscure location. In the end my curiosity got the better of me and I went over to him. It mirrored an incident in Gibraltar (and later New Zealand) proving it is indeed a small world.<br />
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The ship left Italy on the return journey to Saudi Arabia for another load of oil. I was sad to leave the sky blue water of the Mediterranean for the dark blue water of the Atlantic. As we passed the Canary Islands hundreds of birds* descended on the ship. It was strange and at first quite a wonderful sight but the ship moved out of range of the islands and the birds were stranded. Despite our efforts of putting out bread and water they started dying. The spectacle had turned to tragedy as we shovelled hundreds of dead birds over the side of the ship.<br />
<i><br /></i><i>*the birds were canaries which were named after the islands not the other way round. The islands were named from the Latin canis - dog 'isle of dogs'</i><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">We stopped for stores again in Cape Town then headed into the Indian Ocean bound for the Persian Gulf. Dubai was our final destination before flying home via Kuwait and Athens. For a first trip deep sea, it was a relatively uneventful start when I consider what was to follow.</span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-57486167174964505282015-08-12T11:53:00.000+01:002018-05-10T21:54:01.996+01:00Salad Days.04<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><br /></b><b>On reflection I was glad I did the supertanker first, I didn't know it then but one decent run ashore in nearly 7 months was enough to induce cabin fever among many seamen. My naivety and adaptability, as well as my fascination with anything new, made the whole experience quite interesting. The next ship was the real deal though.</b><br />
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In direct contrast to the 250,000 tonne leviathan I left behind in Dubai, the next ship was a mere 6,600 tonnes. The composition crew were only fewer in number by three and it was like scaling down from a pigeon coop to a budgie cage. The cabins were much smaller and the atmosphere vastly different. This ship was to be a real adventure and would connect me with the rest of the world in ways the other could not.</div>
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Up until this point I felt a foreigner in a foreign land whenever I ventured from my island home. It felt that as a Brit I was somehow different to the rest of the world, whereas in reality we are all just people. Our trials and tribulations may vary considerably but on a grass roots level we are all the same. The adventure would begin in London just as the last one had, but it was different this time.</div>
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Instead of finding myself in a plush west end hotel to be taken to the airport by taxi in the morning, I found myself under the steps of the merchant navy federation building in the east end of London. The problem was that although I lived pretty close to London I still needed a train to get there and the coach for the airport. Having been told the coach would depart from the merchant navy building at 6am I knew I would have to spend a cold night on the streets of London. There was a train that was early enough but any delay whatsoever and I would miss the flight.</div>
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At this time I was only 17 years old but I had lived on the streets and the prospect of sleeping rough held no fear for me. It was a minor irritation, nothing more. Near the federation building was a pub and I tried to buy a beer but they wouldn't serve me. Okay I was a year under the legal drinking age but the main problem was my appearance. I still only looked like a kid even though my last growth spurt had finally begun. A man who looked to be in his late twenties watched me leave the pub and followed me out. I noticed him but didn't realise I was the object of interest as I trudged back to my resting place for the night.</div>
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The man saw me sit on the steps with my rucksack and must have thought I was homeless. I had learnt from the last ship to travel light and carried only the bare minimum. He approached me.</div>
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"I know a pub that'll serve you if you want to get out of the cold" he ventured in a thick Irish accent.</div>
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"I'm okay, I just wanted to kill some time" I told him in a rather offhand manner.</div>
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My disability had made me look at people differently. If I couldn't hear a person properly I had to learn to read them in other ways. I trusted my instincts. Only twice would they fail me when it came to people so it was wise to obey them. 'Micky', as he introduced himself, I felt I could trust. It was the early days though and I was a little cautious, Micky was bigger and maybe stronger than me but my youthful appearance belied an inner strength. The element of surprise always helped if things went wrong.</div>
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We went to another pub nearby and chatted away over a couple of beers. The more we talked the more at ease I felt. Micky had thought I was on the street and offered me a place for the night but I told him I was flying out to a ship in the morning. I went back with Micky that night and an impromptu party took place. Micky was married but his wife didn't seem at all surprised when he brought me back with him. A lady from next door came in and Micky started playing the guitar.</div>
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It felt much like when I was taken in by those wonderful people who briefly entered my life when I needed a friend most (<i>see Tribute</i>). I still had this thing where I hated being treated like a kid. My thoughts were confused. I wanted to recapture the childhood I felt was stolen from me yet wanted to be treated as an adult. The neighbour lady, 'Joss' (Jocelyn?) was attractive and seemed to like me. This was confirmed when Micky announced he and his wife were going to bed.</div>
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"It's half past four, I have to go in an hour" I whined.</div>
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Quite selfishly, I thought they had stayed up and partied this long, another hour wouldn't hurt. It would be fatal if I went to sleep now. </div>
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"Just gives you and Joss enough time to get better acquainted then" Micky said with a smirk and he and his wife left the room.</div>
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Ever the idiot I didn't know what he meant, until I looked at Joss. She had that look in her eye I had seen before from a couple of older ladies. Coy but predatory. Just over an hour later I was hurrying out the door to get back to the rendezvous point. </div>
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"Come and see me when you get back" Joss said and kissed my forehead like I was suddenly a child again.</div>
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It was odd that I found it irritating but I didn't understand things back then. I smacked her bum cheekily and promised I would see her again. The short distance back to the federation building was a blur. The sun hadn't risen yet but the twilight gave that eerie, yet oddly comforting feeling I only ever had in London. It was a special city indeed. The other new crew members were already gathering outside the federation and I was immediately labelled 'Moonie' as I floated on air whistling all the while. They suspected I had some kind of mental disability and in hindsight they had a point. It was cold and everybody was tired and only half awake but I was smiling from ear to ear and on top of the world. Clearly insane.</div>
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The coach took us from London to Gatwick Airport as the flight to Brest in France was little more than a domestic flight in distance. I had a window seat overlooking a wing. There appeared to be a rivet missing which I promptly pointed out to the stewardess. She whispered in my ear.</div>
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"Don't worry sir, there are another 19,999 keeping it on"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzoEnzAwoslSLXfZc1EzWFXSLXkmra5GD5i5MQl8-uvVoFUKPUXYzPH5TVzPA2MRk5XI7WMHjb8ok2Smh4ieNruGEAnKyvFSJDBrTSUukLyHXi2EX7FRXoHyH2frGWff7Eq2_yqb-mvI/s1600/s-l225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzoEnzAwoslSLXfZc1EzWFXSLXkmra5GD5i5MQl8-uvVoFUKPUXYzPH5TVzPA2MRk5XI7WMHjb8ok2Smh4ieNruGEAnKyvFSJDBrTSUukLyHXi2EX7FRXoHyH2frGWff7Eq2_yqb-mvI/s400/s-l225.jpg" width="400" /></a>In contrast to the Jumbo Jets I had flown on, this plane had propellers and my concerns over the missing rivet were amplified as I experienced the worst turbulence I would ever witness on any flight. The plane just suddenly seemed to free-fall like being dropped through a trap door then bounce as if on an invisible trampoline. It was disconcerting more because I had never experienced even slight turbulence before and didn't know what was going on. The relief was evident on the faces of everybody when we bounced uncertainly on the tarmac of Brest airport little more than an hour later.</div>
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The first sight of the ship was a lot different to seeing the supertanker for the first time. I wouldn't say it was underwhelming, I had just expected it to be bigger. Although it was the same gross tonnage as the ferry boats I had worked on, being a cargo ship it was a lot smaller in size. The appeal for me was the layout, this was a real ship. It wasn't some gigantic floating oil refinery, nor was it a hollow box-like ferry boat. This had derricks, cranes and cargo holds. Up until now I had been a glorified painter and decorator but now I would be a real seaman.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-51037354220788481772015-07-12T11:58:00.000+01:002018-05-10T21:54:37.771+01:00Salad Days.05<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MCtK6Hp-wUEIi6chtrOaUIdxfOn9yi0W3SYqw73Lq3tyqeqRk9vnp1YGH6G5IFStR34Na2DRmvdLNQoD6GtqV5KRrcI13k93ZAvPRWnD9h94Rj-GCBmZZmf6wboKwovhNvDoE3jg4MY/s1600/Tp.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MCtK6Hp-wUEIi6chtrOaUIdxfOn9yi0W3SYqw73Lq3tyqeqRk9vnp1YGH6G5IFStR34Na2DRmvdLNQoD6GtqV5KRrcI13k93ZAvPRWnD9h94Rj-GCBmZZmf6wboKwovhNvDoE3jg4MY/s640/Tp.png" width="640" /></a><br />
<b>I had seen the English Channel and North Sea in all their magnificent fury but up to this point had yet to witness the wrath of the oceans. The Bay of Biscay had its own notoriety as it marked the end of the continental shelf and formed a bottle-neck for the incoming Gulf Stream. The depth of water plummets from 120 to 3,000 metres in just a few miles. This of course stirs up surface waters without warning. On this occasion the sea was remarkably clement and gave no indication of what was to come.</b><br />
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The crew was younger than on the last ship and I felt less of a kid. I was still third youngest but most were only a little older. Of course I was immature enough to want to show my worldly wisdom. I had been deep water now, I wasn't just a rock-dodging car park attendant as ferrymen were disdainfully referred to by 'proper' seamen. Unfortunately my 'wisdom' didn't befit my self-assuredness and a tactical silence was key to avoiding the teasing heaped on the more naive youngsters. I would laugh along with the others despite not knowing what was amusing.<br />
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All in all it was a good crew and the spirits were high, that changed a couple of days out. The weather turned for the worst and this was a far cry from the stability of the supertanker. We were tossed around like peas in a hamster ball as the small cargo ship pitched and rolled every second of every day. There was a subdued silence amid all this chaos, nerves jangled but tempers were kept in check by fear. We were all in this together and we might need the man standing next to us. I was excited at first but when the hurricane hit and sleep was impossible, it felt I was being battered into submission.<br />
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Fear wasn't as much of an issue with me as with the others. My fear receptors were defective, or maybe I just felt an affinity with the sea. The sea was my salvation, my sustenance, without it I had no life to speak of. Not a life I wanted anyway, it hadn't done me any favours so far. A sudden crash and all the lights went off, alarm bells reverberated around the ship, I didn't move. I had learnt to ignore the alarm bells. They usually signified engine failure or some other engine room related problem, there was nothing I could do except get in the way.<br />
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Sleep was fitful so it made no real difference. The voyage across the Atlantic should have taken 7-10 days but a week had passed and we were barely halfway to the Americas. It was at the height of the storm I was called up to the wheelhouse for a four hour stint at the wheel. Words were in short supply and fear was evident in the eyes of seamen and officers alike. The deck-boy was on the bridge as a look-out and his cheeks were tear-stained. The haggard seaman on the wheel was only too eager to hand over the responsibility.<br />
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Under normal circumstances the ship would have been on automatic steering, it was impossible in this weather. If the set steering strayed more than ten degrees off course the alarms would sound, a single swell would spin the head around 15-20 degrees. That was the problem with crossing the Atlantic east to west, the swells always hit on the beam. The ship rolling was more unnerving than waves breaking over the bow. There was the feeling it might not right itself and capsize. We hadn't had a hot meal for days as it was impossible to cook, not that anyone had an appetite.<br />
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The sea is an unforgiving animal and it's unwise to take liberties or underestimate the power of its mood swings. On a bright day when the surface was like glass, it was the most serene and calming feeling I had ever experienced. I would recommend it to anyone. At times like this it took a special person to endure it.<br />
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Taking the wheel I was immediately thrown off balance. It took a moment to adjust my legs to the rolling. I would bend one knee and straighten the other leg to stay upright. As the ship rolled I counteracted rhythmically, almost as though I were dancing with Poseidon himself. In the cold light of day I could see the nature of the beast. The 100 foot swells were like a vast wall of water looking for all the world about to swallow us up without even the necessity to belch. Then it would suddenly rise up beneath us, tantalisingly dangling the ship on the edge of a precipice. I began to hum.<br />
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My words were deliberately unintelligible, I didn't want the others to think me crazy. I muttered soothingly to the ocean "you're my friend, I know you won't hurt us, don't be angry" and the like. The others looked at me dancing and humming, my worries about appearing a little mad were too late. Just my perceived happy demeanour was enough to certify me. Then something strange happened. The storm began to abate, sunshine broke through the clouds ahead and suddenly life was looking brighter.<br />
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The sea taught me many lessons over time. It taught me my own insignificance and humility. It taught me fear is most often worse than reality and worry is counter-productive. I spent many hours on watch, staring at the horizon looking for land or other shipping. We spend our lives chasing horizons but they are unattainable, like the end of a rainbow. All they do is give us an indication on the course we should steer to achieve our individual goals. Horizons shift though, they are not a constant.<br />
<b><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="color: #073763;">In bad weather or fog, the horizons all but vanish and the way ahead is hidden or obscured. It is the same in life. Circumstances beyond our control may cause us to deviate from our path. In such times it is important to focus, bend into the weather and press on regardless, trusting to fate. The storm will abate and the horizon will once again show us the way. It was there all the time, we just lost sight of it for a while.</span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-91552106621892856382015-06-12T12:02:00.000+01:002018-05-10T21:55:23.239+01:00Salad Days.06<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The calm blue waters of the Caribbean were a favourable first impression, especially after the open hostility of the Atlantic Ocean. The Caribbean had its moods as well but the knowledge land was never far too away gave a perhaps misguided feeling of safety. We were headed for the Panama Canal and I was really excited even though I didn't know much about it back then. I had joined in with the teasing of the galley boy but was equally in the dark, I was just as naive but not daft enough to let on.<br />
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The crew had told him stories about the Canal and I listened, though pretended not to. They explained how the Canal had locks where mules towed the ships through to the other side. He was encouraged to save left over vegetables to feed to the mules, something he did with great enthusiasm. He kept saying about the mules to me, asking if they bite. How the hell did I know.<br />
"I suppose they might by accident if you got your fingers too close" I speculated.<br />
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A passing seaman was grinning as he walked behind the galley boy giving me the thumbs up and a wink. He obviously thought I was in on the joke and I smiled back conspiratorially. Cristobal was the city on the Atlantic side of the canal and we had an overnight stay before traversing the canal zone. The weather was perfect and all the tensions among the crew had lifted. We docked and after work went ashore. It would be unfair to say I hadn't enjoyed my times ashore before Panama, I enjoyed everything new ....even getting shot at. I felt I wanted to see and experience as much of life as possible, even bad things had a place. Life is a learning process and there is no better teacher than personal experience.<br />
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The street where we were walking, looked almost like a post apocalyptic New York. The buildings were huge multi-storey blocks of grey stone, although the poor street lighting may have given that effect. Between each building was a narrow alleyway, dark and threatening. Looking down these alleys the far end was fenced off, there was one way in and one way out. I made a mental note not to run up an alley if chased. People were hanging about on street corners and watching us carefully. My decision to go ashore with those closest my own age was a mistake. The three of us must have looked like little kids and once again I silently cursed my youthful appearance.<br />
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At home it meant I couldn't get served in pubs even though all my friends were, now I worried I looked weak and easy meat for a robber. We had been given warnings about the city being noted for violence and street robberies. The bar where we had been told to meet the others was up ahead and we breathed a collective sigh of relief. The Moro Bar or 'Boite el Moro' as the sign said, went some way to healing my problem with my appearance. The bat-wing doors suddenly flew open and we froze as a crowd rushed out the door straight at us. We were bout to panic until we realised they were all girls.<br />
They surrounded us and guided us inside the door, all pulling at us and squabbling over who would 'pop our cherries'. I have to say it was one of the strangest but exhilarating experiences of my life. This was my first experience of the 'good-time girls' and I drank and danced long into the night. At the end of the night we had all spent up when the older crew members were negotiating with other girls. I was disappointed but also a little relieved I had no money left, I remembered Italy and didn't want to spoil one of the best nights I'd ever had with a somewhat sordid experience.<br />
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The three of us rose to leave but the girls wouldn't let us. We explained we had no money left but they were convinced we were virgins (especially as that was what the crew members told them), and in truth we looked the part with our fresh faces that had never seen a razor. This made us highly-prized and a fee wasn't required. I won't go into specifics but it was the perfect end to a perfect night and a far cry from Genova. The next morning we dashed back to the ship and were spotted coming back. Everybody gathered and looked at us laughing and cat-calling, they knew what had happened. For once we didn't mind the teasing.<br />
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Going through the canal was the icing on the cake. I loved the scenery as the waterway meandered through jungle and even a mountain. There was Panama State Penitentiary, and a plaque commemorating all those who died in the construction of the canal. At the other end was the Puntas des Americas the only connection (at the time) between the two continents. In between were two sets of locks, and of course the mules. The joke on the galley boy had been the fact the 'mules' were large locomotive engines on tracks, not the four-legged variety he (and I) was expecting.<br />
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<b>In my travels I went through the Panama Canals maybe a dozen times. It never lost its magic and remains one of my favourite places on Earth. Already this ship had far exceeded any expectations and there was still Peru and Chile to come.</b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-67110078960008092132015-05-12T22:49:00.000+01:002019-01-12T22:04:22.313+00:00Salad Days.07<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There was a dramatic change after the Canal. Our first port of call after the Panama Canal was Callao in Peru, the port for Lima. Up to this point I had only touched foreign soil in Europe and Saudi Arabia. My first taste of South America had me hooked straight away. Callao may or may not have been worth a night out, I didn't stop to find out. Lima Central was merely a 20 minute taxi ride away. </div>
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My knowledge of Spanish back then was very limited but I knew how to say 'cuanto cuesta' and could grasp the numerals thrown at me, or so I thought. The taxi driver gave me a price which I thought was reasonable but as I handed him a note, he jabbered away at me. It became apparent I had gotten my decimals wrong and the price was one tenth of what I expected. He was indicating he didn't have enough change. For me it was such a negligible amount I waved it away and told him to keep it (it was actually the lowest denomination note I had). As it turned out, I earned more in an hour than he did in a week. He was almost in tears with gratitude</div>
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Lima could have been like any European city yet there seemed to be a different feel to the place. There was a vibrancy to the city and I was keen to experience as much as possible. After taking in the sights I inevitably found a bar and ordered food and a drink. The initial worry of whether I would have enough money had long since passed. It would have been extremely difficult to spend the paltry amount I had. In the bar I heard three guys talking in English and went to investigate. It was the first English I heard in Peru and turned out the guys - all about mid-20's in age - were Kiwis. </div>
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Since leaving the Canal there had been an aroma permeating the ship. I had tried pot at that stage but it had always been in solid form, even so the smell of weed was unmistakable. Future experience would show me the weed consumption in the merchant navy was far higher percentage-wise than ashore. Even so, this ship I found, had an inordinate number of smokers on board. It got so bad the Captain sent word down with the Mexican bosun (a smoker himself) to stop the crew smoking in their cabins as the air-condition circulated and the engineers were walking around like zombies.</div>
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Most smokers had been busy talking to the Canal guys at the locks but I was green and missed out. It didn't matter, there was plenty to go round. The other deck-boy had bagged off* in Panama and had a polaroid photo taken when he was with the girl in the bar. It took pride of place in his cabin and he was roundly mocked as he professed an undying love for the girl that had made him a man. Yeah, fucking hilarious. He was told by all and sundry she was probably noshing on a foreign seaman right at that moment. The little shit didn't like me. I had avoided the crossing the line ceremony having already crossed on the tanker, he didn't like that and I could sense he wanted to have a go. Probably chose me as I appeared to be less of a threat than his real tormentors.</div>
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<i>*bagged off = had sex</i></div>
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The point to all this was that during negotiations with the Panamanians, boxes of rolling papers exchanged hands and by Callao there were none left on board. To add to the problem, they were very hard to find in Peru. The Kiwi guys had found a similar problem and they told me to buy the New York Times from Central Station in Lima. They told me they had tried every foreign and national paper on the news-stand and the New York Times was the best for using to roll joints. I went back with the Kiwis to their yacht where they made up for my missing out in Panama. Their story was fascinating. There was a fourth Kiwi on board their 40 foot yacht.</div>
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Five friends had bought the yacht with the intention of sailing up the west coast of the Americas. One had become serious with a woman and was unable to go but the others went anyway. When I met with them they had been gone 5 years already. They sailed up and down the coast buying goods in one hemisphere and selling them in the other. It obviously didn't reap rich rewards but it allowed them to eke out a living and continue in their adventure.</div>
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I never had a problem anywhere in Peru but the reality is that it's not all an adventure playground. One of the guys off the ship had his watch snatched off his wrist but nobody had any sympathy. Seamen knew very well not to go ashore with jewellery or even expensive clothes, jeans and a T-shirt were the norm, it made us almost invisible in most countries. Wearing rings and watches were magnets for trouble.</div>
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<b>Lima was very interesting but the rest of Peru gave me a vastly different image, before then we had another scheduled stop to discharge cargo. We headed south to Chile and the port of Valparaiso, or 'Valpo' as the old sea-dogs referred to it.</b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-80312845963698045462015-04-12T20:34:00.000+01:002018-05-10T21:56:31.885+01:00Salad Days 08<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>As our work rotas were similar I found myself going ashore with Alan, the steward's boy. It was his second ship and I was rather surprised he managed number two. As junior ratings we were subject to excessive amounts of pranks and teasing. There was also another side I haven't yet touched upon. Let's just say it was common for a junior to be touched inappropriately at the most inopportune time. It was a source of amusement to watch the unsuspecting lad jump out of his skin and drop whatever he was carrying. </b><br />
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Although there was never any sexual intent, we as junior ratings hadn't yet learnt that. I caught on quickly that it was done purely for reaction and the best way to stop it was by not reacting. Unfortunately Alan hadn't mastered it yet, and showed no signs of ever doing so. Anytime someone touched his bum he would always jump through the roof and the worse he reacted, the more frequently the form of teasing occurred. Alan would rant at the perpetrator but it just amplified the laughter. I decided to have a friendly word with Alan whilst we were alone.<br />
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I told him the senior ratings were just doing it for the reaction and he should stop fuelling their mirth. He broke down saying it is a problem he has had since he could remember. It wasn't just the seamen, friends and even family members were kept at a distance. Alan had boasted about a girlfriend at home but he told me he had never had one due to his problem. He was one of the few who didn't have a liaison in Panama, citing fidelity to his girlfriend as a reason. I decided things were going to change.<br />
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We stumbled around all sorts of backstreets, completely lost. It didn't matter, the weather was nice and the buildings so colourful. Despite our youthful looks we had no problem buying beer in every bar we passed. The people were friendly and the bars were atmospheric. Only Santana and somewhat bizarrely (so I thought) Peter Frampton were recognisable names on the Jukebox that looked like it had been taken directly from the set of Happy Days. The problem was a shortage of ladies. It shouldn't have been a surprise, we were in local bars and it was still only late afternoon.<br />
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Eventually we found our way to the seaman's mission and was surprised how lively it was. I was also surprised to see quite a number of young ladies in the bar. Seaman's missions were almost without exception church run or sponsored. It didn't make them popular with seamen seeking a night on unrestrained merriment and debauchery. For one thing 'good-time girls' were not allowed. Valpo mission broke the mould, there were women and merriment. Two of the girls came over and sat with us. Alan had always been a 'sipper' when it came to drinking but his revelation to me triggered a devil-may-care attitude and he was very drunk for the first time since he joined the ship.<br />
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The girls were not slow coming forward and I kept glancing at Alan with interest. The alcohol had dulled his senses and it looked like the girl would need surgical removal from his lap. It wasn't long before the other crew members started arriving, they obviously knew of the reputation Valpo's mission had. Alan broke his duck and we staggered back to the ship arms around shoulders. I felt good, I thought I had helped cure Alan of his affliction. The reality didn't quite justify it. Alan remained jumpy but not quite as bad, it seemed in order to cure his affliction he would have to stay drunk.<br />
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In the morning a plague of beetles had descended on the ship. We had a cargo of animal feed on board and it attracted millions of beetles from who knows where. Getting them off the shipp involved a high pressure hose but it was one of the most disgusting jobs I ever had. We wore waterproofs and sea boots tied at the ankles to stop the beetles going up our trouser legs. It may not sound particularly gross but the worst part was having to walk on the knee-deep swarming mass. The crunch and squelch sent shivers down my spine but within a couple of hours they were just a bad memory.<br />
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Later that day four of us shared a taxi to Santiago. It was about 70 miles inland but remembering how cheap the ride was in Peru. I had this thing of wanting to visit the capital city and tick another off on my map of places I'd visited. In truth the ride was the best part of the idea. Up and down a series of mountains and ranges we travelled inland taking in the sights. We didn't catch a glimpse of Santiago until we came out of the Tunel Lo Prado which drilled through a mountain range west of Santiago. Then suddenly, surrounded by ranges on three sides and with the mighty Andes as a backdrop, the Chilean capital came into view. From a distance it was a sight to behold but on entering the city, our brief visit failed to do it justice.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #073763;">The ride back was exciting for a different reason. It was dark, very dark, and the old taxi's headlights were inadequate considering one laps of concentration meant certain death. If that taxi ride was scary there was much worse to come back in Peru</span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-11692233418422062172015-03-12T00:07:00.000+00:002018-05-10T21:57:13.728+01:00Salad Days 09<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Having finished discharging cargo in Chile we now set sail north and back to Peru. We knew by then the ports of call which would turn out to be quite fortunate for Alan and me. I didn't get on with the deck boy, or more likely he didn't get on with me. We had come to blows one night in the bar when I laughed at him for staying faithful to the 'good-time girl' in Panama. The others teased him more, he just felt he had a chance against me. </b><br />
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He hit me but it felt as though he'd never hit anyone before. I just grabbed him by the throat, put my leg behind his and had him on the deck in a flash. I snarled a warning that next time I would hit him back. It was unnecessary, I could see the fear in his eyes, my grandmother always said I had a look that could curdle milk. It is a measure of the crew when I state it was the only 'scuffle' in the whole time I was on board. This was extremely rare. Long periods at sea brewed a sort of cabin fever and 'disputes' were commonplace. In fairness it was just as rare that these scuffles at sea were of a serious nature, ashore things were a little different.<br />
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Alan and I became inseparable and it took a lot of the heat off him. One able seaman in particular wouldn't desist so we both took a dump in his work-boots, a turd in each. We also unscrewed his air-conditioning vent and put a fish and some cheese in it. He threatened to kill us even though we denied it and the other seamen got on his case. Other than that, the atmosphere on the ship was the best I would ever experience. Despite leaving a trail of smoke in our wake, the crew knew what they were about. Everything on the ship was maintained scrupulously. The ship was even painted nicely, something unusual on a working ship.<br />
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The best thing about the ship was the layout but it was just one of many endearing qualities. Even as a junior I was allowed to use the cranes on deck, another thing that irked the deck boy. I learnt largely by trial and error...... and a lot of cussing out by the seamen. It would serve me well in the future, most ships had derricks and many seamen were unfamiliar with cranes. The housing was midships but the crew quarters were down aft. It gave us a seclusion that allowed for extremely loud music, music kept the ship floating and was in keeping with the special feel to South America. The most commonly played albums were from Santana, Frampton, Black Sabbath and Incantations which was traditional Peruvian Pan-pipe music. It was rather a bizarre mix but nobody thought so at the time.<br />
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If there was one drawback it was the cockroach infestation (aka Jaspers or Bombay Runners), and they were the biggest I would ever see. The crew joked about someone falling asleep on the deck of the bar and being carried off by them. Our bar was decked out with black-light posters and we had a sound to light unit on the stereo. With just the ultra-violet light on the posters came alive, so did the cockroaches, It was the only time you saw them apart from a split second when you turned a light on. We used to throw darts at them but apart from one fluke, we swear he was aiming at a different one, there were no fatalities.<br />
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On the supertanker the crew were mostly Welsh and a bunch of piss-heads, this crew was from all over and were potheads. I did like the tanker crew, the Welsh do indeed love to sing, but this ship was my ideal, I could have stayed on it forever. The second cook used to leave a dog off the porthole that was situated below deck level like our accommodation. Late at night we would lower ourselves over the side and in through the galley porthole, then we would cook ourselves steak sandwiches. Life couldn't get any better.<br />
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<b>It took nearly a week to get to Pisco and it was to be the last port that could be termed a city. </b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-22903115140473115652015-02-12T14:20:00.000+00:002018-05-10T21:58:13.831+01:00Salad Days.10<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Pisco was the last major town on our South American adventure and it pretty much mirrored the other ports. Three decades ago things were very different but when you arrive it is difficult to gauge the size of a place in short excursions ashore. After wandering around Valparaiso and getting lost, I was in favour of waiting for the others to finish work and tag along with them. Alan had different ideas. He was becoming a bit of a nuisance. Alan didn't strike me as someone who made friends easily and it seemed when he did he was stifling. My 'evil plan' to overcome his quirk backfired, I'd created a monster and he only had one thing on mind as we made our way ashore.</b><br />
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Another night of wine, women, and song followed. Without going into detail, it was an eventful night. The most vivid memories were of the kids. Walking ashore we were followed by a couple of young kids, the further we walked the more kids joined in following. It became quite unsettling when there were about a dozen of them. A couple weren't much younger than Alan and me, others were younger, the youngest looked about 6 or 7 years old. They seemed friendly enough but only knew a few words of English and neither Alan nor me could speak Spanish. One or two asked for cigarettes but we ignored them.<br />
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In the end I took all the loose coins out of my pocket and told Alan to do likewise. We threw the coins up in the air then ran whilst the kids scrambled for them. It worked, the kids left us alone. At that time I didn't really attach any great significance to the experience but in a few years time I would remember those Peruvian kids with fondness. They were all happy and smiling despite their no doubt dire circumstances. The handful of coins thing became a commonplace event. It had been the first time I had experienced being followed by a gang of kids, but it wasn't a phenomenon only found in Peru.<br />
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The good-time girls we found all lived in a big hotel. They had permanent rooms on the first and second floors (I assume they were permanent by the quantity of personal effects in the room). The whole ground floor was a huge bar and very lively. It was clearly geared up for visiting seamen. In the morning both Alan and me had started to sober up despite having no sleep. We stumbled out of the hotel with no idea where we were. Luckily there was a kid outside and we asked how to get to the ship. The lad looked about 10 years old and we worked out he was offering to take us. He held out his hand to see what we would pay. All we could muster between us was a few coins, half a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of beer. The boy gave us a big toothy grin, put the coins in his pocket, took a swig of beer and lit up a cigarette, then he indicated we should follow him.<br />
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I couldn't help thinking back to when I was the same age, it was impossible to imagine myself in a similar situation. A brief stint on the streets before going to sea had nearly killed me, and I was 16 then. I wouldn't have survived as a ten year old. Looking back this was probably the catalyst for my wanting to know the people and places rather than just the first seaman's bar from the dock. It was a good half hour walk to the dock and I wanted to give the kid more but had nothing. I handed him my T-shirt (one I bought in Italy) and the boy's eyes lit up. He put it on straight away and it almost came down to his knees, he didn't care and went away as if he had just won the lottery.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcE5b_Eq_KPl6AyP9nSx-n01gJatzYZCNAD5ojPShhfDb415-PDiTWfZKGkWWiqC0NGRdoaMOvelljm3870b7Sznw1d7K4fvPZDbK9_lmOUauFEvMKS6cUBFNFW2D-hx6a4qd4jqoR3SI/s1600/800px-Candelabro_de_Paracas_%25287521861232%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcE5b_Eq_KPl6AyP9nSx-n01gJatzYZCNAD5ojPShhfDb415-PDiTWfZKGkWWiqC0NGRdoaMOvelljm3870b7Sznw1d7K4fvPZDbK9_lmOUauFEvMKS6cUBFNFW2D-hx6a4qd4jqoR3SI/s320/800px-Candelabro_de_Paracas_%25287521861232%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a>Leaving Pisco was an experience in itself as we sailed south we passed the Paracas Candelabra. It was similar to the Nazca Lines. Almost 600 feet tall the giant Candelabra* is carved into the hillside of the Paracas Peninsular just south of Pisco. It dates from around 200 BC and can clearly be seen from the sea from up to 12 miles away. Although we spent almost three months on the west coast of South America it was nowhere near long enough. <br />
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<i>*The 'Candelabra' is thought to signify a Tree</i><br />
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<b><span style="color: #073763;">The plight of the kids upset me a little, invoking memories from a bad time. It was mild compared to what was to come in Matarani.</span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-35949223446030024562015-01-12T23:16:00.000+00:002018-05-11T17:36:04.276+01:00Salad Days.11<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCniuKRIC3NT5nk818CK4DE1uvq9b_HMtsunlS9D6UqIfS1IJ7qzy3qsgTywybMwZyxzbRPVuC5dg_iFpRMmps6wfz1IuxDoHiG6gVVd8AA4uKlWLoTXBMi2hSBrBZkazKOx3zlEUHPQ8/s1600/07+Conveyor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCniuKRIC3NT5nk818CK4DE1uvq9b_HMtsunlS9D6UqIfS1IJ7qzy3qsgTywybMwZyxzbRPVuC5dg_iFpRMmps6wfz1IuxDoHiG6gVVd8AA4uKlWLoTXBMi2hSBrBZkazKOx3zlEUHPQ8/s320/07+Conveyor.jpg" width="320" /></a><b>Matarani was like nothing I'd experienced so far, although it was not too dissimilar to other places. So far I had only seen sand and city, there had been no lush greenery save for the jungle surrounding the Panama Canal. Matarani was sand and rock but from the dock there appeared to be no town. I finally managed to shake Alan off and quickly headed ashore on my own. I wanted to see more than the inside of a seedy bar.</b><br />
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As with Valparaiso and everywhere else so far, I had no local knowledge. The uphill walk from the dock to find civilisation didn't look that daunting but it proved to be a little more challenging than I expected.<br />
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<i>[I should point out that this account is from 30 years ago and having used Google Earth I can see significant changes in the landscape. Apart from the area having been developed significantly, so too has the road from the dock. It has been lengthened in each direction and now consists of just two or three turns instead of seven or eight]</i><br />
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A road snaked around for the heavy lorries from the dock, making the route an easier gradient for them. In typical fashion I decided the best way to the top was a straight line. To follow the twists and turns of the road would take more than an hour and there were no taxis.</div>
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As I would find out some years later, climbing on loose rock or scree wasn't easy. By the time I reached the top I questioned whether I had taken the best route. Looking back at the winding road below, with a slow-moving truck full of ore lumbering labouredly onward and upwards, I was tired and thirsty but still convinced I had saved at least half an hour.<br />
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There was still some way to go before the buildings began but at least it was flat. It was as I approached the first single story sandstone dwellings, I noticed holes in the ground. They were partially covered with a sheet of corrugated tin. Curious, I went to investigate. I was almost at the hole when an old man poked his head out giving a toothless grin. Smiling, I waved, and kept walking. More heads popped out from the holes and it dawned on me these holes were dwellings.<br />
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As I neared a street of rundown shacks a boy approached me. The lad looked about seven or eight years old and without hesitation he took hold of my hand. He was dressed in just a pair of shorts and had no shoes. I was somewhat confused as the boy led me to a street. 'Had something happened? The boy hadn't uttered a word but was smiling, it couldn't be anything serious'. The shacks were single story with one glass-less window and an open doorway. It was to one of these the boy led me. In the open single room was an old man and a younger woman whom I assumed were the boy's mother and grandfather. The woman was sat sewing with needle and thread.<br />
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I didn't understand the greetings. A word I did understand however was 'cerveza'. It quickly became apparent the old man had seen a business opportunity and sent his grandson to watch for any seamen brave (foolhardy?) enough to visit the town. I bought one of the lukewarm beers and sat to drink it. It wasn't really enjoyable and I felt a little uncomfortable as three generations sat staring at me. It was like I was intruding on their privacy but they all had big smiles and nodded whenever my eyes met theirs. Out of sympathy I bought a second beer.<br />
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When I finally made hand gestures to say I had to leave (I wanted to find a real bar), the old man seemed to understand and sent the boy with me to show the way. The boy led me to a bar a good fifteen minute walk away which made me feel a little guilty. I gave the boy my loose change, said thank you, and disappeared into the bar. The cold beers were a lot more palatable and I began to relax, impervious to all the curious stares. My thoughts kept drifting back to the old man in the hole and the family trying to eke out a living hijacking seamen on their way into the shanty town.<br />
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Three hours later I had spent the money allocated for the run ashore and happily drunk decided it was time to go back for food. Stepping out of the bar I saw the boy who acted as my guided was there waiting. Had he sat there the whole time I was in the bar? I felt guilty. The boy must have been sat in the sun without a drink or anything to eat whilst I was indulging in excess. I didn't even have any money left to give the boy. As I had done with the boy in Pisco I took off my T-shirt and gave it the lad. He seemed just as pleased as the kid had and followed suit by putting it on immediately. </div>
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As the boy led me back through the narrow streets other kids began to follow. In the end there were five boys and three girls in tow of varying ages. The kids followed back past where the boy lived. I tried to tell them not to follow anymore but either they didn't understand or simply ignored me. Worried they would continue to follow if I took the direct route I decided to walk back along the road. They followed me back right to the ship's gangway. Some of the crew saw me approach like some kind of Pied Piper and asked what was going on. I explained about the boy, and the people living in holes in the ground.</div>
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The gathered crew members looked at the kids still standing at the bottom of the gangway. It was dinner time and a suggestion was made. Nobody remembers who thought of the idea initially but it was instantly and unanimously accepted. Five minutes later eight Peruvian kids were sat at tables in the crew mess, totally unaware they almost sparked a mutiny.</div>
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The cooks were aware of the extra mouths to feed and refused, saying there wasn't enough and it was more than their jobs were worth. The Chief Steward heard the dispute and sided with the cooks. The seamen said they would go without and the kids could have their meals but the steward stood firm. Eventually the Captain was alerted and came into the messroom. He took one look at the kids and turned to the Chief Steward:</div>
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"Feed the children and in future don't be such an ass!"</div>
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The Chief Steward's protestations were drowned out by the cheers of the crew and they went to get plates for the kids. Hearty meals were placed in front of them and the seamen watched eager to see their charges enjoy the food. The kids were uncertain and hesitant, puzzling the watching crew. Then the boy I met did the 'sign of the cross' and every kid joined in with a short prayer. How humble we felt at that moment. On the walk back I saw lots of shrines on the twisty mountain road and wondered about how religious the people were to have so many in the most unlikely places. Many years later I found out they were memorials for people who had died on that road.</div>
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Prayer over, the kids tucked in with a will and broke the spell. The other crew members saw the boy wearing my T-shirt and went below. Everyone of the kids left with a T-shirt bought in some far off land and an orange and apple each. The kids waved and made the long climb back to their homes. That night in the crew bar the seamen were very subdued. In the morning we went out on deck and saw an odd sight, especially in such a barren landscape. The bottom of the gangway was festooned with flower petals.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #073763;">Matarani may not have been the most exciting destination but few places left such a lasting impression. #NotEveryoneSucks @NotEvery1Sucks</span></b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-90180201643910199062015-01-11T16:23:00.000+00:002018-05-10T21:59:43.280+01:00Salad Days.12<b>Word spread that the nearest town was Mollendo so several taxis were booked that evening. It would be a short stint ashore however, the ship was due to sail at midnight. We tried several bars before settling on one and a good time was had by all. There were a few girls about but not the sort we had become accustomed to. In truth I was a little relieved, Pisco had been enough for me for the time being. Or at least that's what I thought. I was only 17 years old, it was a bit of a stretch.</b><br />
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At 11pm when we were just looking at leaving three girls walked into the bar. To cut a long story short they were from Canada and were very interested in Alan and me. At around 11.25 we knew we had to leave or miss the ship. No contest, we went back to the hotel with the Canadian girls. We reasoned that I had a long taxi ride in Lima for pence and the price of the taxi from Valparaiso to Santiago we considered a bargain, how much would a taxi twice the distance cost?<br />
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It turned out to be a week's wage for both of us but we didn't bat an eyelid. A week's wages when you are months at sea wouldn't be missed. We were more concerned with the state of the taxi. It had no windscreen nor bonnet to cover the engine. If we knew of the third problem we would never have gotten into the car.<br />
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The road from Mollendo to Ilo in daylight was perhaps more terrifying than the return in darkness from Santiago. I think it was most likely due to our sudden awareness of the third fault with the taxi. On a downhill gradient the driver had to pump the brakes that only seemed to work sporadically. The first part of the journey was the worst as we rose into the foothills of the Andes and down the other side. If the brakes were a major concern, the driver was a bigger one. We were sat in the back seats and he kept looking over his shoulder to talk to us. I finally understood the religious aspect of the people, I said a few prayers that day. There are no atheists on a sinking ship.<br />
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The last part of the journey was hair-raising for a different reason. The road ran along the coast and in many places just a matter of yards from the mighty Pacific Ocean. Spray and water hit the road ahead, we could feel the car aquaplaning on its no doubt bald tyres. The driver never lost his smile, he could probably buy a new car with the price of the fare. For the only time and can recall, my prayers were answered and we arrived in Ilo in one piece, albeit with stinking hangovers and jangling nerves.<br />
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The Captain was less than pleased when we took the driver on board to get his money. He did our hangovers no favours ranting at us even though we lied through our teeth saying we got lost. As we were just kids he didn't throw the book at us though. We were fined a day's wage and not allowed ashore in Ilo which I didn't consider a punishment. I hadn't worked the day I lost so there was no real loss and you couldn't have dragged me ashore after last night.<br />
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It was with a little sadness we left Peru for the last time. This ship was my coming-of-age as far as the sea was concerned. Peru and Chile had left lasting impressions on me and were the catalyst for an attitude change. It would be wrong to attribute it solely to South America, the crew also played a huge part. After the problems I had at school and then on the streets briefly, I was a pretty angry person. I still am in some ways but at least now I was angry for the right reasons.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8GlNj58HUfI2FgZ9YIQRkK2CXakRC1OnucnBDKUweNFMcCA1MXK5KDjUclkb74owQ980YQLgY0M1AZRMsU0vNJvA_3TvP2bU9UHjssgizD4XirV8JwJ4SJwUMXoGpZOCr3bbidAloGQF/s1600/1024px-Bridge_of_the_Americas%252C_Panama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="673" data-original-width="1024" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8GlNj58HUfI2FgZ9YIQRkK2CXakRC1OnucnBDKUweNFMcCA1MXK5KDjUclkb74owQ980YQLgY0M1AZRMsU0vNJvA_3TvP2bU9UHjssgizD4XirV8JwJ4SJwUMXoGpZOCr3bbidAloGQF/s320/1024px-Bridge_of_the_Americas%252C_Panama.jpg" width="320" /></a>Balboa or Panama City had a similar feel to Cristobal on the Atlantic side but the experience was not the same. It was bigger and busier, possibly because it was at the end of the Puente de las Américas, which at the time was the only link between the North and South American continents. In any event it was somewhat of an anti-climax. We arrived at night and sailed early in the morning. Once again the journey through the Canal was awe-inspiring and Peter Frampton was in full voice as the ship blasted music out to the jungle.<br />
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At the locks some of the Panamanian guys came on board and started tapping along to the music with makeshift instruments. I was amazed at the natural rhythm they had, all doing a different beat yet all coming together like pieces in a jigsaw. Needless to say there were a few herbal transactions going on but the crew were a little dismayed to hear we would be docking in Avonmouth. It was renowned as a HMC&E training place and it was common for ships to get ripped apart by the rummagers. The crew decided it was going to be one hell of a party on the Atlantic crossing.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #073763;">Unfortunately the Atlantic had other ideas and once again showed us its ire. A 7-10 day crossing took us 17 days and never were we so glad to see England again even though it was a shock to the system. We had come from summer in the southern hemisphere to winter in England with no autumnal cushion in between. I had no intention of staying home long, I needed more sunshine.</span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521146458140468791.post-62726373902009681722015-01-10T12:57:00.000+00:002018-05-10T22:00:18.286+01:00Salad Days.13<b>I was to become eternally grateful I joined my next ship as an EDH and was no longer considered a boy rating. My 18th birthday was a week before I joined the ship and it couldn't have come at a better time. The crew of the last ship were in the main easy-going, hippiesque (I made that word up but you get the gist). The crew of this one were mostly drunken brawlers, the stereotypical seamen in the eyes of many shoresiders. Of course I didn't know that immediately but it became apparent very quickly. If I were given the choice of repeating the experience, would I? Hard to say, probably. I think the positives outweighed the negatives on a personal level. </b><br />
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The trip would certainly be eventful. Joining in Brest, everything seemed normal. The first thing I noticed was the crew all came from different places. One Geordie, one Jock, one Scouse, etc. I joked afterwards that the Federation had taken the worst arsehole from every pool in the country and stuck them on this ship. The ship itself was a 53,000 tonnes bulk carrier. It was huge compared to my last ship but not in the same league as the supertanker. It was a rust-bucket and maybe my conspiracy theory was not far from the truth.<br />
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We went ashore en masse in Brest and the crew were already boisterous, pushing and shoving each other. It was a popular game, as someone with you approaches a lamp-post or sign-post, they would be given a nudge so they walked into it. I wasn't participating but that didn't mean I wouldn't be a victim. With a little help from Scouse I walked smack into a pole. It was cold and I had my hands in my pockets so I caught it full on and felt a lump rising on my head.<br />
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Everyone carried on and the laughter died down, then I saw it. There was a dead rat in the kerb and the others ignored it. Walking at the back to avoid anymore injury, I saw a chance of revenge. I picked up the rat and threw it as hard as I could. Bullseye! It hit Scouse on the back of the head so hard it knocked him forward. When everybody saw the rat the were decking it, holding their stomachs as they laughed so loud it hurt. Scouse didn't laugh, he rubbed his head and looked at me angrily. I just stood there smiling and I put a finger to my forehead where the lump was. He scowled and turned away.<br />
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Apart from a minor scuffle between Paddy and an engine room guy, there was no trouble ashore. The problem occurred in the dock itself. Half a dozen fork-lifts were parked up for the night and all the keys were in the ignitions. It was too much of a temptation and races were organised. The fork-lifts didn't exactly go fast but when you had your pedal to the metal they were really hard to steer in a straight line. I have to admit watching the antics was very funny and yes, I did have a go. It was funny right up to the point the deck-boy after being bumped by another driver headed straight off the quay and into the dock. Everybody dashed to look what became of him. When we saw his treading water we started laughing. Luckily he was close to a ladder, the water was freezing.<br />
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The next night we went ashore but all split into pairs, it was clear this crew wasn't going to get along. As I came back with Tommy, a steward from Norwich who was barely a year older than me, I noticed a number of black cars. They weren't there the night before and the windows were blacked out. It had to be because of the antics last night. They were probably wanting to know where the other fork-lift was. I couldn't wait to get away from France. In truth it wasn't just France, I wanted shot of Europe, I'd just had nearly a year of summers. Unfortunately we were headed to Antwerp and London first.<br />
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Antwerp wasn't particularly thrilling as most stayed in the same pairs. It was a quiet night as a result. There had already been a couple of scuffles on board but both times Paddy was involved. He was very pugnacious and fearless, thankfully he was just average height and quite thin so he wasn't a major threat to anyone. He catch-phrase was "What'll you do?" (in an Irish accent) and was usually by someone saying 'don't...' or 'stop...', if they made a threat Paddy would spring into action. I couldn't decide what Paddy liked more, hitting or being hit.<br />
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In London we docked at an almost deserted Millwall Dock. The only ship in was A Russian one on the far side of the dock. Thatcher's sell out and dismantling of the merchant navy was already in full swing. Soon seamanship would disappear from our island nation. The best trained seamen in the world would no longer be required when so many cheap imports were available. The government allowed British companies to register in 3rd world countries so they didn't have to meet the strict safety guidelines laid down by the Lloyd's Register insurers. Safety of crew / passengers is not of great importance.<br />
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Outside the dock gates it was just a short walk through the deserted streets until we found a pub. At lunch hour we all frequented the pub, even though we had cheaper beer on board. It was just good to get off the ship. There was a stripper every lunchtime laid on by the landlord, it was a piece of genius with all the drunken lechers in attendance. I could relate an incident in which the poor deck boy was 'educated' by the stripper on the pool table, but I'm trying to avoid an 18+ label for this series. Besides which, a repetition today could see criminal charges brought against the crew (and the stripper), though I doubt the deck-boy would press charges.<br />
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Finally we left cold and miserable London and were headed south-west on route to Lisbon. the company were keeping their cards close to their chest when informing us of our next port of call. It should have aroused some suspicion but it was quite common for tramp ships. We had no thoughts beyond Lisbon anyway. Still there was no sign of what was to come as all the seamen congregated in the Texas Bar. I remembered that bar on subsequent visits over the years but whilst it kept its name it changed its identity.<br />
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I suppose the presence of available women was a pacifier and I was lulled into a false sense of security. There was much more to Lisbon than just the Texas Bar but we only had an overnight stay on this occasion, giving me no time to explore, We sailed into the Mediterranean and took bunkers in Malta without major incident and whilst there were no scuffles the volume of arguments increased. The constant squabbling over trivia was beginning to get to me and one night I turned the sound system in the bar onto max to drown them out. A big Geordie donkey-greaser came rushing into the bar and ripped the machine out of the wall.<br />
"Who the fuck turned that up?" he demanded and everyone looked at me.<br />
"I did" I said defiantly.<br />
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Some of you may think I was extremely brave but I'd already been grassed up by everyone looking at me so I had to stand firm and deny and look a coward. The donkey-greaser stormed over me and launched a verbal tirade at me as I stood looking at him impassively. We were almost touching noses but I wasn't going to back away. When he finally ran out of expletives I said softly:<br />
"Have you got a problem?"<br />
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The confused look he gave me would have been comical if I hadn't shat my pants. I could see his mind working out what to do next.<br />
"Aaaaarrrrrrgggghhhh!!!" he yelled then turned and stomped out of the bar.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #073763;">It was a close call but worth the risk, the crew were still looking at me in stunned silence. I should thank the donkey-greaser, it would be a long time before anyone picked on me. They imagined I was a lunatic or some sort of martial arts expert. Suez Canal was next, I hoped it would give me the same feeling as Panama had.</span></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0