© Copyright 1998, Benjamin Timothy Dyer
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

 

IN THE BEGINNING

 

 

From the black, a circle of blue could be seen. A blue, polished in looks and yet wet if you were to touch it. The blue in turn became a white with red lines streaking in various directions before revealing the truth....

A face etched in pain! Yet, no cry came forth from the mouth...

 

“Come on you freak! Lets hear you scream!” This came from a tall fellow stood behind the man in pain as he kicked the head off a wooden broom and held the stick above his head.

Another young man who was pulling one of the freaks arms over a metal railing shouted, “Come on Howard time for your speaking lessons!”

A further voice was added by another who held the other arm, “Give him what he deserves for being an oddity!”

“Oh I'll give him what he wants gentlemen!” With a smile Jack kicked the man's legs apart and took great delight in watching the figure before him struggle with doing something that ordinary men could do.

Stand straight.

“Lets see if you can walk straight after this!” Letting his right hand take a firm hold of the wooden stick he whacked it hard into the rear of the left leg!

Howard felt the pain, yet gave forth no sound. He had been in pain for most of his life and even though this was more of a sharp pain he would not give in to these animals!

“He's almost crying J.C!” Laughed the small ginger headed lad as he gripped hard round this man's wrist allowing him no chance of escape.

Jack looked over and laughed before adding, “I want a scream! Not a whimper!”

“Well then, why not hit him on his back?” Suggested the other darker headed man.

J.C. liked the thought! Raising the wooden stick at body height, gripping it firmly with both hands and rotating his mid-body into a swing he let the momentum do the work.

Howard squeezed his eyes to almost a squint and through it he could see the store just a few metres away and yet it seemed to be miles away and so far from safety as he screamed!

 

The shop was a mix of things. It had to be for a village shop. Many passers-by would frequent it in the summer as they travelled around this picturesque area on their way to a well-known beauty spot or castle. This shop had it all! From food for everyday needs to provisions of the novelty kind, like shortbread dressed in the local castle's colours, or sweets with the village name printed inside it, in those weird bright colours that you associate with sticks of rock. The shop also had a small post office and possessed a small toyshop in the attic, which had been converted for that purpose. The store also had a coffee area comprising of one long serving area which was two lengths of old eight by four covered in Formica and behind it a few coffee machines and other utensils used in running a mini cafe. The desk had a row of at least eight long thin stools which many could slide up to and order what they wanted. Outside at least half of dozen tables and about twenty four plastic seats were placed for any customers who wanted to sit out in the sun and watch the day go by, provided they didn't mind the odd truck or two whizzing past.

It was at the desk inside that an old friend sat staring into his empty mug.

“Not busy yet then?” He asked as he looked over at the man of same years polishing out a glass cabinet which had in it at one time a few fresh cream cakes until he had devoured them.

“No, slow start. Too much wet weather. People hate looking round in rain. Rather like to go into the city and shop at all the same shops they have at home.” Came the semi-muffled reply as the guy rubbed with vigour at something horrible looking inside the cabinet.

“What you going to do if it stays quiet?”

The man stopped and looked round giving his long term friend Arnold Riverman a cheesy smile, “I'll just shut up shop and go sailing!”

Arnold smiled back, it was just like Chris to do that! Except in recent years the old ball and chain had come down on him.

“You'll do nothing of the sort!” Right on time there she blew from her confinements of the post office almost opposite. The office was just that. A glass cage backed onto a wall and a small black hole in which she could retreat into from time to time.

“But love, It's half past three! No one is coming in. We can surely...”

“You can surely get a move on in cleaning up your side and then you can wait until half past five like the rest of us and help by cashing up. While I'll go up as usual at five and make the tea.

Chris smiled and nodded his resignation. The next two hours were full of work. Still he had Sunday! “We'll go on Sunday, first thing. Deal?” He held out his hand while keeping one eye on the office counter.

Arnie smiled as wide as he could and with a twinkle in his eyes he shook this man's hand.

 

Then a scream could be heard!

“What the?” Chris asked before the recognition hit him.

A blonde thin lady in her early twenties came running through the door and shouted at her father, “Dad! They have Howard!” She was almost in tears as the two men rushed by her.

Out into the sun they heard the man cry out once again. Turning to the source Chris rushed towards it and stopped when he saw three lads all laughing.

“What's going on here?”

The lads looked up and the leader with the wooden handle shouted back, “We are giving him a lesson in speech!”

Chris came forward, “Leave him alone! Or I'll…”

The lad laughed, “Or do what? Try and take us on old man? You and who's army?”

Arnold felt anger and it showed in his reply, “Me and the police! They have been called!”

“Oh, wow, you old men and the few small pathetic old policemen. We are scared!” Jack hit the freak once again, before nodding to his associates to leave off. “We've finished for today. But don't worry we will be back for further lessons.”

The ginger one shouted as they left, “Yeah we may even enrol you in our therapy lessons, father of freak!”

Howard flinched as the broom handle came flying his way to hit the railings and clatter its way to the concrete floor. He could hardly move and yet he felt his tears hold firm within his body. He would never cry!

Chris came over and picking up the lad with the help of his friend they managed to take the weight and drag him back to the store. His daughter was in a state of shock and yet he had to give her an order, “Shut the shop up Elizabeth !”

With the sound of the door being closed, Chris took Howard through to the back where the living quarters were. It was a place by itself built on two levels. The kitchen to where they were heading was on the ground level. Though Chris knew Howard would just want to head up to his bedroom. But not today, not now. This had been one of the worse attacks.

His wife came rushing through, “Take your shirt off boy!” She ordered him.

“Come on Howard get that shirt off! Be a good lad!”

Howard looked at his father, it was a time for words, “N, n, no!”

“Defiant to the last! Nothing but trouble!”

Elizabeth saw where her mother was heading on this one and now was not the time. Placing her arms around Howard's neck she looked him in the eyes, “My dear brother Howard. Please let me look at your wounds and let me bathe them.”

“Do as she says Son, you know it makes sense!” Arnie piped up.

Howard looked at them all and took his shirt off to reveal his twisted back, to match his gammy leg. He hated his body. He had been cursed from the time of....

“That's better boy. This will hurt, its only antiseptic but it will heal those cuts and bruises.”

Arnie looked pale before the shock made him ask, “J, just how many times did they hit you with that thing?”

Howard winced at the stinging sensation before replying, “S, s, seee, se, ven, t, t, ,t... imes!”

“Best call the police!”

For once Anne Lane felt in agreement with Arnold , “Yes, get these punks locked up for what they have done!”

Howard didn't like violence in any form, or getting vengeance on these misdirected, or misguided ones! “N, n, no. P, p, erh, police!”

Anne stared hard at the young man, “What? Are you out of your mind! They beat you and it's not the first time. They will do it again!”

Howard jerked away from the hand that was trying to heal those abrasions. Elizabeth saw this and knew where this was going. Another confrontation between the two. Taking the cloth from her mother's hand she touched him and felt his body respond to her care.

“I don't know what to do with the boy!” Anne muttered while casting a cursory glance at her husband who felt her glare and started shifting from one foot to the other with unease.

“Howard, we must do something.” Beth reasoned just hoping he may for once not be so stubborn. Alas she was wrong.

“N, n, no B, be, be, Beth. No Po , Pol, i, ce!” With that he stood up and hobbled upstairs with a voice of one woman calling after him!

“You get down here this instant! You ingrate!”

Chris rested his hands upon his wife's shoulders and they felt all tensed up. He knew how hard it was to look after this young man. “Let him be for now love. After a while, when he has come to terms with the shock, he may decide to take your advice.”

Anne spun round and glared some more, “May take my advice? He's like you stubborn! Never willing to take it until its too late! Mark my words, that boy is trouble and will only end up dead somewhere.”

“Oh come now! That is a bit drastic. Our son will not fall foul if I can help it.”

She moved away and picking up the small bowl that contained the antiseptic she added one further thing, “You forget, he's not our son.”

Chris watched her go before looking at the others, “No, but we are the only family he's got and I will do my best to help him. I promised that a long time ago.”

Elizabeth smiled before putting her arm around her father's midriff, “You have Dad. Just remember you have.“ Kissing him on the cheek she then added quietly, “I better help Mum cash up if we are to stay closed.”

“Yes and we better pack those chairs away before those ruffians decide to come back and kick them all over the place!”

Chris looked at his friend, “Oh no. They will be halfway back to the town by now. Still one day I will fix them and fix them well.”

 

SANCTUARY

 

 

Howard made it to the sanctuary of his room, though he felt deep in his heart that nothing could ever be called his. Turning to the window he noted the rain coming in over the hills and knew that it was going to be another wet and by the looks of it a windy night. Spring was always unpredictable. Though he often thought that the springs of the past were never as full of bad weather. Maybe being a child he didn't really take note of the weather. It was a grown up thing and being twenty years of age he had now more time to collect his thoughts on the subject.

A few seconds more and the rain hit the house along with the wind making the roof creak under its assault along with the heavy tapping of the many drops hitting the roof like a thousand men brandishing pin hammers! Why was it that the wind always seemed to go in one direction? In other words it would reap havoc on his glazed window which had a little hole somewhere and that in turn would make a cold blowing noise like one of those old sound effects from a grey movie.

Howard watched the rain drops hit the window and some started their slow move down the Paine. Occasionally they would collect together and get bigger and others would stay stubbornly where they are for ages before moving and managing to miss all the other drops on their way down to the bottom. Were people like that? Did some who were fast and active live a better life and seem to collect together a mass of friends? While others appear to move slowly and silently through life and on a few seldom occasions find a friend? Howard felt in himself he had no real friends. He was like the rain drop in the sun. Never moving, just slowly fading away, evaporating into the distance. Never joining or being joined, only weakening and dying. Being left on the shelf. Nobody wanted Howard, many put up with him! But no one loved him, only his mother.

He hobbled over to the bed and eased himself upon the old spring mattress which made a few complaining noises as he lay upon it. As He closed his eyes he wished life was as simple as it was when he was a child, he also wished he could have the freedom as a child, not trapped in a crippled body like today.

 

Images flashed before his face, too many to tell to be certain which ones made sense. He had a brief one of his mother before it faded to take him back further. To the old days of summer!

“Just you be careful and don't go making a nuisance of yourself do you hear?” A mothers warnings of deep concern for her only child.

“I won't mum, I promise.”

“I don't want the farmer moaning about play dens in his haystacks again do I.”

He looked at her and how young she was. She must have been about twenty seven at the time! So full of life and love for him. “No mum. Me and Joey will behave ourselves, I promise!”

Howard waved goodbye from halfway down the drive before turning briskly to run round the corner to his friends house.

Joey Masterson was his name, a hansom lad with jet black hair and eyes of the deepest blue. A little taller than he, yet both lads were as skinny as rakes!

“How!” Shouted Joey as he caught sight of him. ‘How' was the shortened name he had, though it was easy to guess what Howard called him.

“Joey, coming over to the den?”

Placing a single finger over his mouth “shh! Mum doesn't know about this one. If she did I'd get grounded for a month!” His eyes were wide and full of seriousness over the impending doom of a whole month in the solitary confinement of one's room. Though many kids would love that, it was the worst sentence you could give to two young nine year olds full of energy and the joys of hot summers!

“A month!” The eternity forcing to the full the sheer gravity of the situation, especially as Mrs Masterson was almost in ear shot of Howard's earlier outburst.

Joey nodded before running back to tell his mother that he was off and giving her a peck on the cheek. She reached in her pocket and gave him something though Howard couldn't tell for sure what it was, “Be back in time for tea and stay clear of the farmer!”

Both boys replied “We will!” before waving and running off down the hill and out of the village and along into farmer country.

They ran the quarter of a mile to their field and took a cautious look around before moving round and spying their den. This haystack was an older one and it smelt like it. The bails must have been stored somewhere before getting dragged out again for food. This stack had in turn been converted to a small den just by simply moving a few bails here and there to make a hiding place from the world where two boys could just talk about stuff.

“When I go back to school I'm going to ask Jennifer Conway out!” Boasted his friend while laying lay on top of the stack allowing the gentle warm breeze to blow upon them.

Howard rolled over to face him with a half grin, “She won't go out with you. She hates your guts!”

Joey pulled a cheesy grin back, “Yeah, but it doesn't mean she don't like the rest of me!”

Howard punched his friend on the arm in a gesture of fun. His friend in turn fixed those blue eyes on his and asked, “What about you? Are you going to get the courage to ask Charlotte Brown out?”

Oh yes! Charlotte Brown. A girl with long blond hair, dark brown eyes and a girl way too mature for he! She was ten. “No, I don't think I can.”

“What? Are you a chicken boy!”

“No!”

“I think you are a chicken!” Then Joey stood up and started to do the chicken dance while clucking loudly!

Howard stood up protesting violently that he was not a chicken before both got into a play fight which ended when they heard the sound of a distant engine.

Hitting the deck hard Howard exclaimed, “Tractor!”

Looking over the edge they spied one tractor heading their way and by the looks of things the farmer may have just seen them, for an expression of thunder could be clearly observed. “He's seen us!”

Howard fixed his friend a smile, “You worry too much! He's probably just coming to see if this field is ripe for harvesting. It's nice and golden!”

Then as the tractor came closer the engine dulled and one farmer shouted, “You two! Come down here at once! I want a word with you!”

They came down all right and ran in the opposite direction and through the long field of barley!

“My father is going to ground me!” Joey shouted as the ran to the edge of the field.

Howard came back with, “If my father was about I'd get grounded! My mum, I can sweet talk!”

They dived through a hole in one of the bramble hedgerows and out onto the main road which would lead them back into the village. Joey's face was the face of a man convicted to spend the rest of his life in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Which in a way was true. Howard had put him up for it.

“I know! If the farmer comes round to your house. I will tell your mum it was my fault.”

“Would you?” The lad looked again as if his eyes would pop out of his head.

“Yeah!” Howard replied as keen as mustard for his idea, “That way my mum will only ground me for a week and you won't get grounded at all!”

Joey thought more about it before a look of sorrow fell over his face.

“What?”

“But what am I going to do without my best friend for a whole week?”

Howard knew how he felt from previous groundings, in fact it wasn't a summer holiday if at least one of them wasn't grounded for a week here and there. He decided to shrug his shoulders.

“Still, we have today before we get done.” Joey reached into his pocket and pulled out some money, in fact to Howard, Joey was always rich! “Let's get some sweets from the store!”

“Yeaaaah!” Howard shouted as both boys ran down the long road leading off to the village centre and over to the sweet shop which was really an all round convenience store with a wicked toy shop up stairs!

The whole village was one that had a few footpaths but when you got to the shops it was just tarmac, the reason has to do with the fact that the old store used to be an old petrol station which had long since gone, way back in the late sixties when a bigger one opened just a mile away on the what was then new motorway. That was what was told to Howard by his mother. And what was born in its place? A wonderful village store! Again the older store burnt down and so the owner decided to build an extension to this old place, converting it into a large fronted store and behind a place to live while demolishing the old corrugated metal shed to the side and the back. In his boyhood days and now, paths had grown either side, one a public one leading to the rectory and the middle estate and the other, a private path allowing access to the rear of the building for the owners who are now the watchers over him, his guardians.

“What you going to get?” His friend stared wide eyed at him before running over to stare at the rows upon rows of plastic jars holding the mass of colours and different shapes. Howard remembered the various sweet smelling scents that floated across the desk to touch his smell receptors and reap havoc through his body where he just wanted to try everything going with only one problem. Money was short.

“I, I haven't...”

Joey punched his friend for he knew Howard and his family were on the poor side even though Howard's dad worked all the hours God sent him out in the sea. “I'll get you anything you want!”

Howard looked into his friends' eyes. This was a friendship that ran far deeper than blood. A bond of a lifetime! Both smiled a deep loving smile. If it was possible, Howard often wondered if they had been separated in the hospital and were actually brothers. He often thought about this and willed God this was the case, even though he knew it not to be, as they had once pulled out their birth certificates to show that the hospitals were miles apart. His friend had been born in Dorset while he had been born in the midlands. Hundreds of miles apart, yet so close in love.

“I would like some saucers please!” He announced after staring at the mass of colour and focusing on the bottle with a flashy UFO label slapped on the front with loads of round almost florescent colours behind which were the sherbet sweets themselves.

Joey smiled, “I knew you would.”

“How?”

“You always choose those!” He laughed and his friend reciprocated.

“What do you want boys?” Asked the middle-aged man from behind the desk.

“Could we have as many flying saucers as my money can get!”

The man pulled a broad smile. “As many as this will buy.” He replied as he took the coin from out of the lads hand noting that in fact this coin would buy enough to make the boys a little sick after. Still, when he was young, he didn't have excesses like this. Moving over he must have noted Howard and Joey's burning eyes on his back as he took the jar from off the second shelf down and began to empty a load into the measuring scales. He tipped a few more in.

“Don't be giving away our profits!”

He cringed! Did she always have eyes in the back of her head and was able to pick up his thoughts from across the shop! “No dear!” He called and poured a few more out in spite. Tipping them into two separate bags he handed them to the two young men, “Now don't go eating them all at once and making yourselves sick!”

“No sir!” Joey shouted while Howard smiled a smile which read if he was sick it didn't matter for he was out to enjoy himself.

The two boys ran out of the store to the sound of that woman yelling, “Don't run in the store! How many times do I have to tell you!”

 

They ran round and up past the public house which at this time of day was in full swing. They could hear the many voices of the patrons shouting from the open door. Howard opened up his bag and pulled a blue one from it and held it up towards the sun where it penetrated the saucer to reveal its sherbet innards.

“Do you think they have less sherbet in now?”

Joey pulled a big smile before placing one in his mouth whole, then proceeding to cough as the powder agitated his throat. Once the coughing had subsided he muttered, “Don't care! As long as they taste the same!” He proceeded to stuff two into his large mouth now!

Howard copied only to suffer the coughing fit this time. Little did he know that behind him, something more sinister than a coughing fit was going on.

 

 

“See you all, l, later!” Shouted one very well dressed man who stumbled out of the public house and towards his very large car.

From inside the pub Rosie Wells hit her husband with a tea towel she often used to mop up spilled drinks with, “I told you he's had enough about an hour ago. Are you going to let him drive in that state?”

“I thought the Lord had his chauffer with him?” Jack Wells exclaimed before running after the man only to find the car wheel spinning out of the car park and clipping the post as it went, before heading out into the street and towards the middle of the road. Then swerving once more to head towards two boys who were on the path! “No!” He screamed as one horror unveiled its ugly evil eyes before him.

 

“I dare you to go for five!” Howard laid down the gauntlet for his friend to take up.

The world record of five saucers at once in the mouth was there for the taking and Joey was going for it! With a smile he delved into his bag only for him to find a car, a large car was about to delve its way into the two friends lives.

A scream could be heard as everything went into slow motion. One second Howard was walking along, then the next he was flying through the air! He felt his whole body crumple as it hit the warm tarmac. Howard's eyes beheld the nightmare vision of a large blue Rolls Royce tossing his friend skywards on its bonnet before going over the top side of the car to land down onto the road along with the various coloured flying saucers which seemed to fall like confetti yet all seem to hit the road with a thud along with Joey's body at the same time.

The look was all it took as Howard crawled towards Joey. His friend was just staring back, his face just void of expression. He heard a sound of a lorry breaking hard as it seemed to hit something metal and then slide towards him and then a pain as his body felt pain once more with a silent scream. The pain of his body was insignificant to the pain of his heart as he realised his life long friend was dead!

“No!” Was all that came from the landlords mouth as it fell open. The large truck hit the other lad running over the boys legs! The Lord had collided with the lorry a fraction before and there was nothing the driver could do to avoid the second Boy! It was all too fast as the Rolls smashed into a stone wall launching the elderly man through the windscreen and onto the crumpled bonnet. The lorry managed to avoid anything else and at best jack-knifing!

The dazed driver got out of his cab and though not wanting to believe what had just happened ran round to find one of the boys just lying dead, while the other who he had ran over was still alive and crying out a name!

“Joey!”

Jack felt in two minds and decided after hovering in indecisiveness to run into the noisy pub.

“Rosie!”

The noise was unbearable! Yanking out the lead which fed the juke box its juice and allowing that to fall silent all bar the protests from some of the patrons who had obviously paid good money to listen to that rubbish, he shouted again, “Rosie! Call an ambulance! There's been a terrible accident!”

The public house fell to a deathly silent upon hearing these words.

“What did you say?” Asked a scruffy man who worked out in the last few coal mines which were a few miles south of here.

“An accident! Two kids, a lorry and the lord!”

This was all it took for a mass of bodies to run out into the street where some just stood wondering if the alcohol was reaping havoc on their eyes or this was in fact reality.

A few more cars pulled up and one police car followed up behind. Constable Norris spoke to his companion, “Eh up! What have we got here? Flick the lights on Charlie.”

Through the maze came the police car with lights on. Charlie saw the carnage first, “Oh my Lord!”

“I see it Charlie. Call up the services!” Norris ordered as he stopped the car and rushed out first to the metallic blue Rolls. Leaning over he noted the mass of blood from the cuts from the man's face and taking note it was the Lord of Covington House. Checking for a pulse it took only seconds to realise this man was dead. Nothing he could do except take off his jacket and cover him over. Noting that many people were converging he shouted to his partner, “Charlie get these folks out of here!”

Charlie ran over, “Now come on folks! Go back to your homes and allow space for the emergency services to arrive and for us to do our job!”

Norris noted a lady run over while another man just stood bolt upright, looking pale as if life itself had passed before his eyes. He knew who this might be as the sound of distant sirens could be heard.

“You the truck driver Sir?”

The man with eyes wide fought to advert them away from the scene “Yes. Is the boy?”

“Howard is alive!” Rosie called feeling this to be a relief that one of the boys had survived and was still conscious.

“What about the other boy?” Norris asked as he guided the lorry driver round to the kerb, “Come sir, please sit down. I'll get you a sweet cup of tea.”

Charlie wasn't very successful in getting the crowds to dissipate and so gave up to check on the other boy. It only took one look to know the answer, “Sorry Sergeant!”

Upon hearing those words Howard screamed out loud as the confirmation killed all his hopes that he had been wrong. His soul poured out its anger and grief and then silence fell upon his mouth as the emergency services came to the scene of one peaceful village broken by the terror of this accident!

 

Howard opened his eyes to the sound of the door knocking.

“Howard, are you coming down for tea? Howard!”

He smiled, it was Elizabeth, “Y, y, yes. J, j, j, st. C, c, om, ning.” Good old Beth! Always tried so hard to make him feel at home along with Chris. Yet he always knew this not to be home, as long as that woman made his life a misery. Yet again misery had always been part of his life in one way or another. He often felt cursed as if some powerful agent was hell bent on punishing him. Howard thought back to those days of his friend, though many years ago he never forgot the pain and anger. He hated that man even though he was dead. He hated that house and it's posh family. He hated the fact he could no longer walk properly. One leg dragging behind the good one. Often the pains in his back and leg felt unbearable! And some days he would have to use a walking cane, though he should use crutches.

Howard opened the door to find Beth smiling at him, “Hungry Brother?”

He nodded yes before explaining as she went ahead of him and waited at the foot of the stairs for him to make his awkward way down. “I, I, f, f, fel, l, asssss, lep.”

Elizabeth watched him explain and felt pity for the man struggled so hard to talk properly, “I thought you may have done so.” As he reached the bottom she yanked down his top and tucked it in for him, “How do you feel now? Are you still in pain?”

Howard smiled at her and felt so blessed that this beautiful lady would take care of him. It was like Beauty and the Beast! “I am, o, o, ok, k, kay.”

“You sure? Did the antiseptic wipes do fine?”

He nodded.

“Nothing broken?”

He nodded once again before reaching the dining room door which fell open when she touched it to reveal two others waiting for him to arrive.

“The prodigal son returns!” Beth's mother announced. “Dinner has been ready for about ten minutes, what have you been doing?”

“Howard took a nap mother.”

“In your sleeping, did you come to your senses and decide for us to call the police this time?”

Howard wasn't going to bite, instead took up his fork and placed a new potato into his mouth while Mrs Lane gave him a hard look which seemed to bore into his soul.

“Don't want to talk to me now.”

Chris placed his hand upon his wife's and spoke so lovingly, “Let's leave this topic alone love, it's not worth it.”

She glared at her husband before adding, “Well, if he wants to get himself murdered by those thugs what do I care! Before stuffing a brussels sprout into her mouth and chewing hard over it, and Howard's decision though how mad it was.

Chris smiled, “It's our day off tomorrow Howard me old mate. How about you and I going a few miles down the road to the coast and picking up my boat and going sailing?”

Howard pulled a large smile from his face along with his eyes widening allowing a small sparkle. He loved going out on his father's boat. A twenty four foot vessel that took only one man and a cripple to sail her. Often Beth would come along and the day was perfect. Mrs Lane never came. “I, I, dddd.” he let a little huff as he felt annoyance at his speech!

“Great! Early start though?” Chris knew Howard didn't mind. He also knew that Howard didn't mind him not using proper sailing terms. Chris never learnt them and didn't even know what was port and who was starboard? It didn't matter. Once they were out in the sea and feeling the wind in their hair there was some kind of father-son bond.

“I thought you were going fishing on Sunday with your friends?”

“I am! I'll be back before midday, so I can help out with the coffee shop.” Looking flirtingly at the young man he added, “I just thought Howard needed a break.”

“What about me? Don't I need a break?”

He looked at his wife at loss at what to say. Then it came, “You can all come along. Heck! We will shut the shop for a day and go out as a family!”

Elizabeth smiled, so did Howard. The only one not to follow suit was Anne. “The shop only closes for two weeks during the Christmas period. There will be no excuses for lost revenue.”

Yet Howard knew the menace and true reason behind those words, he could see her speak them, “Besides we are not a family. Not anymore, since one low life came to our door that fateful night.” If he had the choice he would have run away then. Still he could lighten her burden and take to flight now, if he had any decent money!

His memory maze opened again as he chose to say nothing while sitting at the table avoiding the glares from opposite, by that woman.

 

“Stay here? We have no room!” Anne Lane shouted in the kitchen as she stared at one teenage boy.

“But love! John is my friend. He has offered to help, but can't take responsibility for the lad.”

“No, all he likes to do is run away from reality! jumps on boats and ships to take him away from it all. That man always shirks his responsibilities!” Then she added, “Besides where do we put a cripple? We have no special amenities for him?”

“He can have my study. I will put a bed in there, he will be happy. John isn't asking for much.”

She looked hard at the lad, “Isn't he?” All the time, energy and inconvenience along with the boy eating into our livelihood with an extra mouth to feed.” Then a thought came into her head, “Put him into a home.”

“He tried that! Remember! Just got bullied. Would you want this boy in his condition to be placed in that situation again? He has lost everything. All I am asking is that we give him a break of a few years until he's a man. That way he can have at least a stable teenage upbringing which could stand him well in adult years.” The plea was one of reason which he had used several times on his wife who was more sensitive than people gave her credit for.

Anne sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. It had been a long day. Looking down at the bedraggled lad standing there with his back pack of belongings and his wet clothes she pulled a half smile, “Okay, only for a while until he finds his feet. Best get him enrolled into school.”

“I've decided that we will have a private tutor, as schools tend to pick on him and the only other option was a school for the mentally disabled.

“And who is going to pay for a private tutor?” This was amazing coming from a man of simple means and little money.

“John said he would pay for the boy. He has enough savings to pay for keep here and a private tutor. That's what it says in this letter.” He held out the wet letter and his wife took it.

She read half of it and felt strange, “And a little for us? How much?”

“He didn't say, only that we will get it when the lad matures.”

“What becomes of age?”

“Yes.”

She hopped from one foot to the other while pondering over this unexpected turn in the proceedings and reasoned, “I suppose, looking after this boy until he is eighteen will do.”

Chris now shifted balance as he confessed, “The deal is until he is twenty one before we get a penny.”

He eyes widened again! “Twenty one! That's Eight whole years of our lives with him!”

“I know my dear!” Then he had to reason as Anne was thinking in monetary values, “But think! A little nest egg for your retirement. A little bonus for your kind efforts in brining up this young man!”

Anne bit her lip in deep thought before looking down at this boy, “And you, boy.”

“Howard.” Chris put in with as a reminder.

She gave him a scowl before continuing, “And you, Howard. Would you like to stay with us? In this house and in this village you were brought up in?”

Howard nodded that he would as anywhere was better than a borstal or private home for the disadvantaged.

A nod was no good! She wanted a voice of agreement, “Well, boy? Howard speak up!”

“Y, y, yesss.”

She almost jumped back in surprise at the slurred speech! Had that John Muster got his son drunk?

Chris again felt awkward and interjected with, “He also has a speech impediment. To do with the accident years back.”

“Oh!” She now frowned as this added to the complications. Still business was business. Looking at her husband she exclaimed, “You better get on and hire up a tutor for the boy first thing!” Then grabbing the lad by the neck she said “Come with me Howard and we will get you dried out and cleaned up!”

The memories faded as he was pulled to the fore.

 

“Are you going to eat that last spud or are you just going to stab it to death with your fork?”

Howard picked it up and ate it, only to discover it was now cold. How long had he been in his memory maze? The answer came with the observation that dessert was on the table and had been served to the others.

“You are always day dreaming Howard!” Elizabeth joked as she once again touched his hand.

“S, s, so, rry.”

“Who knows! With all that deep thought you may become a writer or an accomplished person.”

Beth followed her father's up building remarks, “Or a poet! I've seen some of your poems Howard.” Then blushed a little when she had to confess, “Though a bit on the melancholy side.”

There was a snort as a hand placed the trifle onto Howards' bowl next to his plate, “The only thing he will accomplish in his time is becoming a master floor sweeper. That is all.”

“Mother! That is a horrible thing to say!”

“Not if it's the truth! He becomes of age soon and what has he accomplished? Apart from throwing big tantrums and being a punch bag for yobs and a ridicule to others. The boy has no backbone! He's a wimp! A lot like his father. Probably end up a drunk somewhere.”

“That's enough Anne! Howard will make a success of what ever he puts his mind to.”

“That's it! Always taking his side. You are meant to love your wife, not an orphan boy!” With that she threw the large serving spoon into the trifle bowl causing a little custard to fly out and wreck the clean white table cloth. Taking a few plates the lady stormed out of the room shouting, “Nobody cares about me! I can just go to hell!” Followed by the crashing of saucepans as the washing up was taking place a lot earlier than planned.

Chris rose up quickly and hurried out, you could hear him saying, “Of course I love you. You are my life! I just want all to be happy!”

“We will never be happy while that boy is here cursing our happiness with his melancholy outlook!” Crash went another saucepan.

“Don't worry Howard. It's not you. She has a few problems due to the menopause. It can get a woman down and they just can't help taking it out on someone.”

“M, m, me.”

He looked like a sad puppy dog with those eyes and yet Elizabeth knew he understood, “Don't let it get to you. She loves you in her own way and we all love you.”

He felt her warm touch on his skin, “D, d, do.” He caught his breath, “Y, y, you l, l, love, me?”

“Of course I do, more than life itself!” She kissed him on the cheek and gave Howard a look which confirmed it.

He remembered the first time he met her. It was the following day. He had slept on the sofa that first night and awoke to the sound of the television going on and one girl reaching for the remote control. She was in her dressing gown, a pink one and Beth had on her feet a pair of rabbits. Not literal! But of the soft toy kind in the form of slippers.

She turned and must have jumped about three metres in the air before asking, “Who are you?”

He remembered jumping himself and trying to sit up only to kind of lay there in a half crumpled look and one which caused his back to throb, “I', I, m, m. H, h, How. W, w. Arrd.”

He watched the thoughts and questions fall over her mind as she clutched the television remote close to her chest. “You are from the lower estate. Your father works in the mine. A friend of my dad's.”

Howard nodded as this saved him the embarrassment of talking which he was never any good at since... That time.

“My name is Elizabeth ! Welcome to our home!” She walked over and offered a hand.

He took it and sensed her warm touch and felt that behind such warmth was a truly loving person who cared for anyone who would grace her presence. Howard imagined her as a Florence Nightingale character who would be nursing all the lost souls to health.

Like he.

“Sorry Love! I wanted to let you know, but as you can see we have a new lodger. Howard!” Chris shot out with like a bullet from a speeding gun. He didn't know what to expect from his daughter and it showed in his voice, “He will be staying with us for a while, until he finds his feet. I hope this is not too much of a shock dear?”

Beth could see his awkwardness at her discovery. But chose to ignore this and cover it over with kind words, “How long for?”

“Eight years!” Came a shout from the other room. It was her mother.

“Then I have found a brother! I've always wanted one!”

Chris smiled and felt shocked at how easy his daughter accepted the change in circumstances. After all! If he had suddenly found a stranger living in the same house, then he would have probably argued and been as obtuse as possible. Yet here, was a young lady who in just a few words had accepted the situation for what it is and made the best of it. He often wondered who she took after? Still they had made a mass of changes in their lives with moving from pillar to post and just upping at the last second until they came here to settle down, thanks to Ann's mother leaving her quite a sum of money in her will.

Beth had seen Howard about and knew of his problems. She helped him sit up. “Which side do you want to watch?”

He shrugged his right shoulder as his left was now firmly wedged in the corner of this high sided sofa, “Y, you, ch, ho, se.”

Chris watched as his daughter chose and then sat with him. This made him feel warm inside until he went out to the coldness of the kitchen.

 

Howard looked at this beauty. A sister that was better than he could ever have envisioned. And now here in this time frame she was more pretty than ever. He and she were the same age. Both matured to their twenties and yet time had been more kind to her than he.

In the present time he sat down feeling de'javous as she held his hand on the sofa as nothing more was said about today as the television took away the talk of the house and sucked them into a fantasy world of fiction.

Later Howard eased himself into bed and felt every bit of his ailments. The back was red raw and his right leg felt as if it was going to be badly bruised. If sleeping wasn't hard enough already those moron's had done even more damage! Yet he couldn't blame them for their lack of wisdom and a lack of a conscience. He viewed himself as a helpless animal in the clutches of brutes who only held a perverted pleasure in beating this defenceless creature even though the animal could not defend itself and in its deepest heart wouldn't dream of hurting those brutes. He didn't want to hurt anyone, not after witnessing the death of a very good friend. Life was too precious!

His thoughts drifted as the desire to sleep wafted over and controlled the pain he always felt.

He came too a little to the words floating through his wooden bedroom door.

“Don't forget Howard! Early start tomorrow!”

How could he forget! Tomorrow would be a break to freedom! A chance to get away from it all. On Chris's boat!

The thought of freedom wafted over him once more and felt as if he could walk again! In fact anything could be accomplished in your dreams, like bringing your best friend back to life. He imagined laying there and then standing up. Looking round at the people and the shocked look on the lorry driver's face! He smiled and walked over to his friend. Putting out a hand he leant over to pick his friend up. Pulling him up he placed his arm around him and they walked away from the wreckage, both laughing as Joey had just cheated death!

But that was just a dream....

“Charged and ready!” Shouted one of the medics!

“Clear!” The other said as an electric charge flowed through the body and for one second the corpse leaped into the air before coming down as dead as before. Why the paramedics thought they could rescue his friend he didn't understand? Howard himself was now very still just as quiet on a stretcher and moving away from his friend. As Joey was placed into the back of the ambulance he heard the charge shoot another bolt of energy through the body.

“I'm sorry, there is nothing more we can do!” One almost sighed as the doors to the ambulance closed to block the horrific scene and all noise from it behind.

Howard felt little pain at this point for his body had been given a lot of pain killers, in fact he felt rather out of it. The next he knew he was in hospital and rushing towards some sort of emergency ward. There he was shown into a room full of nurses. As he was fiddled with in ways he didn't know about or understand then through the commotion, in the distance he heard a familiar voice.

“What's happening to my boy?”

The doctor came through, “You haven't been informed?” she replied feeling shock at the lack of care over this woman!

“N, no. Told me to get here fast, an accident?”

“Your son and his friend were hit by a car and Howard?” She asked hoping that by getting confirmation she wasn't talking to the wrong mother. That had happened in the past!

“Yes, Howard.”

“Had one of his legs ran over by the lorry. We are going into surgery. He has internal bleeding and could have serious problems.”

“What kind of problems?” This was all too much for his mother who must have had rivers of tears flowing down her cheeks at this point.

“He may never walk again. Yet at this time that would be the better news. I wish I could dress this up for you. But I can't, he may die. Like his friend.”

“Joey is dead?”

“Sorry, he is.” Placing her hands upon this woman‘s shoulders she said mustering all the confidence she could, “Look, I have to go and get the surgeon up to speed. I'll be back as soon as I can with more news. Trust me, we will do all we can to help your son.”

“My son is dead!” Came the wail from the other end of the hallway and Mrs Muster knew that the time to worry was to be put aside for now as a good friend needed to be comforted.

The hours passed and the comfort was there until Mr Masterson came and upon taking his wife away on the nasty chore of identifying his son he looked at her and muttered, “I hope Howard is okay. You all will be in my thoughts.”

Joey's mother said instead, “Why couldn't it have been your son! My son was everything to me!”

Mr Masterson cringed a little and his eyes apologised for those words, yet Mrs Muster knew they were words from a distraught mother and distraught is what she herself will now be as she found herself on her own. Her husband would be out on that oil rig in the north sea. He would be receiving the news sometime now.

 

John Muster tapped one of the gauges and felt dread. Another faulty gauge. Shouting over the noise of the pumps he called over to one of the junior lads, “Greg!”

The lad half turned as if he heard something before realising the man was beckoning him over. Walking briskly over he knocked his head on one of the over head pipes before readjusting his hard-hat where he stood just a few centimetres in front of this tall man, “Yes John!”

“Another faulty gauge! Get it replaced! We need these as accurate as possible! Don't want to loose any pressure. Don't want the bosses moaning about loss in production!”

“No sir! I'll do it myself.” Greg shouted back and felt another presence. Turning he found another manager walking up to them.

“John, we have a problem. I need you in my office right away.”

John weighed his blue eyes upon the man and nodded. Just before following him he turned to Greg, “Get that sorted. When I'm back we will probably have to do overtime if someone else has screwed up!”

Greg nodded and went about his business as John Muster followed his superior up to his office which was many flights of metal stairs upwards and over. Finally there he stood at the doorway.

“Come in John and please close the door.”

By the tone on this man's voice, it was clear this was important. Had he messed up somewhere? Or had one of his men fowled up and he was going to have to sack the boy?

“Sit down, I have some bad news.”

As John sat down he gave out his explanation of why they are behind schedule, “My men are on pump two Sir! It's the bearings gone again, well on the way out. Another two hours and it will be...” He stopped when his boss poured him a drink of whiskey. This was big! Oh no! They are shutting the whole place down! But surely there was enough oil still left down there?

The boss pushed the rotund glass over the highly polished desk towards John Muster, “Drink this first!”

“But Keith, Sir!”

“Just drink it!” He pushed the glass further this man's way.

John took the shot of whiskey and knocked it back.

When the glass was empty Keith began, “I have some bad news, just came in. It's not good.”

It was no good stalling on a man like John, he wanted the goods and fast as time was money and any delay on anything meant it was time he could never get back.

“Go ahead Sir. I'm ready.”

Taking a deep breath and wishing he had taken a shot of that drink he pushed these words from his mouth, “Your son has been involved in an accident and is undergoing emergency surgery. I want you to leave with the helicopter I've requested. It will take you to our headquarters where waiting is another helicopter which has orders to take you home.”

He had expected many things, yet a message like this? He reached for the glass and found that the man was pouring another shot. He took it.

“Now get your things and go to your family. They need you.”

John stood up and felt one more question that nagged him to pour it out like the whiskey, “What about the rig?”

“I'll cover your shift and we have a replacement on the way. Now go and get ready. She'll be here in just under the hour providing the weather holds.”

“Thank you Sir.” Opening the door he hurried to gather his belongings. Many saw the look of worry yet didn't want to ask this tall man what it was.

 

Just over the hour and one helicopter lifted its bulk off the platform and headed for the mainland.

Several hours elapsed before John Muster made his manly bulk walk through the doors to the waiting room where huddled in one corner like a hamster in a cage lay his wife. Walking silently up to her, he stood over her just looking at her petite frame.

“Good morning Amelia Muster!” He whispered into her left ear.

Her eyes came slowly open to focus on the man who had just woken her from a dream, or was it a nightmare? No, the nightmare was here and now.

“John!” She whispered almost in the same way he had woken her with his words. Rising with speed she embraced him and felt his thick arms wrap around her body providing the comfort and support she always wanted to remember. The emotions flicked through her body and it was hard to feel one seconds immense sorrow to the next elation and joy that her husband was here, now!

He sat her down and placed himself besides her. Allowing a couple of seconds to hold her face and wipe away a few stray tears he asked, “What happened to our boy?”

At this point she wanted to break down and cry like she had most of the time before. She stopped when her eyes became red raw. Taking a few deep breaths she explained, “Howard was run over. He could have broken his back. His leg is crushed and it has been touch and go. The surgeons have been working over time on this one.”

John took this in and decided where to lay the blame, “The stupid lad! How many times have you told him to look where he is going!”

“It wasn't your son's fault or his friends! That drunken Lord of Covington House mounted the pavement and struck them.”

“I'll make him pay for this!” John shouted and felt rage flow through his body as the small room echoed his anger.

“You can't!” Amelia Muster shouted at him as he stood up.

“And why not?” He replied with eyes wide open as if on fire.

“Because he is dead! Like Joey!”

Another thunderbolt came out of the blue to strike his heart, “Howard's best friend is dead?”

“Died instantly. Poor Howard.”

He sat back down again with anger fading, “Poor family.”

“Yes!” Amelia quietly spoke as she went back to cuddling her husband while waiting for the news of their son.

 

Time passed before what they presumed was a doctor came their way.

“Mr and Mrs Muster I presume.”

“Yes!” John replied while looking at this skinny tall Indian fellow who spoke with a strong Birmingham accent.

“Your son is stable, though we will have to do several more operations, especially to his leg. We think we can save it, though I must stress we can only give you about twenty percent chance of him ever using it to the full again. His back is damaged and will require operations to sort it out the best we can. Yet again I must be frank with you, He will probably never be able to walk straight again.”

“My poor boy!” Amelia wept.

“Supposing you can't save his leg, what then?”

The doctor looked at the big man straight, “Then we will have to amputate it. To be honest it will be a miracle if your boy does not spend the majority of his life in a wheel chair Mr Muster.” Then stepping back a little he added, “I hate to be straight down the line about this. But I feel that honesty and openness is the best policy in my line of work.”

John stood up and watched the doctor take a large step back. It came as no surprise for he was six feet five and built like a brick. He raised his right hand and took hold of the doctors, “I thank you for your honesty Doctor. When will we know for sure?”

“A long while yet. I suggest you both go home get some rest and come back tomorrow. If there is any change in the meantime we will call you, we have your number at the reception.”

Amelia wasn't having this, “I don't want to leave my boy alone here!”

This sounded almost on the hysteria side of things. John nodded to the doc and placed his large hands on her shoulders, “He is in the safest of hands! We both need to do as the doctor says! Otherwise, we will be in no fit state when the doctor comes back to us tomorrow with the good news.”

She looked at the hope shining in her husbands eyes, “You really think it will be good news?”

“The best!” He said though not really feeling that confident. “Now come my love. Home is where we belong at this time.” John watched her pick up her belongings and thanked the doctor once more.

On the way out another tall man walked up to them, an older man with grey hair, dressed in a black jacket, “Excuse me Sir!”

John didn't recognise the feller, “Yeah.”

“Lady Covington wishes to express her sorrow and deepest regrets at what has occurred and has requested me to take you home.”

“Where is Lady Covington?” Amelia asked.

The important looking man shifted uneasily at the question before coming up with what he classed as the honest and most suitable reply, “At home mom and now under sedation.”

“Well, when she wakes up, you can tell her to stick her offer!” John shouted and pushed past the man who looked rather dumb founded at his rudeness. He marched his wife out and into the night, where at the entrance the rain and wind howled as if mourning this days tragedies. John looked around for a taxi, yet found none. The only transport home would be a bus, if they were still running at this hour? He was about to reconsider the offer of a lift when a police car pulled up and stepping out and running to the parapet which jutted out of this older style hospital. The man came running to them.

“I've been waiting! Thought you may require a lift home!”

It was Sergeant Norris. He remembered him from the time he got pulled over for riding his Harley through the village. John wasn't speeding, Norris pulled him over so he could admire the bike! Though the gossips in the village didn't think that was the real reason. Smiling a pained smiled he politely said, “We would much appreciate a ride home!”

Norris smiled and hurried to open up the doors, “In you go, we'll be home in a jiffy!”

The doors closed and soon the vehicle was moving through the darkness and as the lights picked up the sideways rain and the wipers squeaked their way across the windscreen, John asked, “How are Joey's parents taking this?”

“Well, not too well. They have already got in touch with their lawyer! Looks like the Covington 's are going to be sued!” The policeman replied shouting above the noise of the rain and wipers and flicking the demister switch on to add to the further noise.

The wide eyed expression was all that was needed which John picked up in the rear view mirror. So the Covington household was going to be a little poorer. Still, hardly a dent in their fat off shore bank accounts! Maybe he should sue? No! No thoughts of that tonight. Howard was the main concern and everything else could just fit behind this. His reply was a short one, “Oh.”

 

MORNING BLUES ARE WASHED AWAY.

 

 

Sleep was slowly washed away by a knocking at the door. Howard opened his eyes to a world full of blurs before his eyes focused on the time. Five in the morning.

“Howard! Better get your bum out of bed if you want to come sailing on such a fine morning!” Chris was heard very clearly through the door as the lad did his best to rise quickly out of bed. His feet touched the wooden floorboards sending a cold sensation up through his body via his plates of meat. He hobbled over to the curtains and pulled these back to find the day as his father had said! All full of the joys of a summer in its peak!

He now tested his right leg to see if it would take the strain for the whole day without the aid of the crutches, only to find the old stick was willing to only take him as far as the chest of draws. It was crutches today which meant no chance of helping in sailing the boat. Howard felt a wave of disappointment swell through his body, like the tide going through an estuary at peak time and threatening to overflow the banks! The threat of his sadness overflowing the banks of his mind and heart stopped and receded when he realised he would be away from the dragon lady. Pulling the top draw open he found the same old musty smells protruding out and fowling his nostrils. The old chest of draws had seen better days and always made his clothes smell a little musty. Yet Howard at his young age felt the same, past his best and always giving off a musty smell to all around. Including the ladies, they always gave him a wide berth. He thought he may score a few bonus points on the sympathy vote, yet in that area nobody considered him. The only girl to show him any attention was as you guessed Elizabeth . She saw him as a whole person, not a cripple.

He finally made it down stairs, one dejected soul after all this negative thinking which often followed him around like a rain cloud follows the cursed man in one of those cartoons.

Chris heard the clatter of the crutches and knew it was a bad day for Howard. Not surprising as those hooligans had beat him so. What was surprising was the lad getting up at all. His resilience was amazing sometimes, “Leg playing up eh?”

“Jusssst a, a, l, li, ttle.”

The dejected reply was all he needed to know, thinking a little differently Chris chose his words carefully, “Still good day for sailing and if you are up to it, I'll let you steer!”

“I cannnn't s, sssteer, nnnot t, t, ttoday. Not, sure iffff, I can mmmmake it abbboard.”

“Sure you can steer! I'll bring up that old heavy ottoman on deck, you can sit on that and listen to my directions. As for getting aboard, I'll help, you know that. Now no more threats of leaving me on my own.” Chris felt determination to make up for the setbacks of yesterday and decided to get this lad out of the blues by helping him! “Here! Help me pack the sandwiches into the food bag.”

Howard knew Chris to be a man of his word and if he was going to do his best on getting him aboard, then who was he to disappoint! Helping pack the sandwiches they were out of the house as quietly as possible and heading towards the car when they heard a, “Pssst!”

They looked round to where the sound had emanated from, only for both to be wrong. Not the hedge but by the front door came Beth!

Running over to them still dressed in her bed clothes and gown she gave her father a kiss and moved over to the man on crutches, “Take care of yourself and if you have had enough don't be frightened to say!”

“I, I, w, woo, n't.” He replied realising that these were the first words he had spoken without a croaky voice this morning. His voice then croaked a little and as usual his speaking was bang up to speed in the unpredictable stakes. Slow stutters like an old car which needed a good service or just plain old scrapping. Yet like a loving owner who had had that car from knew he didn't want to scrap it like Howard didn't want to give up trying to speak!

She held him like a long lost friend noting that in the process he was flinching. He never flinched! It was his injuries. She let go not saying any further words all except a kiss on his cheek. Looking at her dad she said a few words, “If he looks in pain, best call it a day otherwise mum might get angry if he can't work tomorrow.”

“I, I'll, b, b, e, e,. F, f, f, iiinnee!”

Chris cocked his head and nodded towards his son and reiterated the lad's words, “He'll be fine Beth don't worry!”

She sighed a little before letting them both go to the car. An old estate that had seen clearly better days.

Chris placed all the goodies in the back and hurried round to let Howard in which was a process of taking the crutches and watching the guy make a meal of something which normal folks didn't think twice about. Once in he rushed round and let himself in. Then as reliable as ‘old faithful' the car started up and just as he was pulling away it died. “One day I'll buy myself a new one!”

Howard gave him a sideways look which read I'll believe it when I see it!

“Don't suppose you are in any good shape to bump start it for me?” The look was all he needed along with the nod, “Okay! Just pull hard on the handbrake if the car veers of or leaves me behind down the slope when we get there.”

Howard nodded and smiled, he could see the funny side as one man pushed his car while puffing and panting to the edge of the slope, which was actually a steep hill that ran about a quarter of a mile before heading into a field via a gate. One man making it to the edge then tripping and as he looked up from the tarmac witnessing his car go sailing merrily down the hill and on through the wooden fence and out of sight, probably on its way to the pond in the middle! It wasn't really a pond, more like a collection of water in the dip of the field where the hill actually stopped going down. The water often collected there after a rain storm like last nights. He smirked at the comedy scene as the sun made its way above the houses opposite to shed a bit more clarity on the puffing man behind.

“Psst!” came another sound. Chris thought he had picked up a puncture until the sound found the maker behind it.

“Going fishing? I thought you said this Sunday?”

“Arnie! Boy am I glad to see you!”

“Why?” A look of suspicion wafted over the man's face.

“Help bump start this thing!”

“Not unless you tell me why you are going fishing with Howard and not me?”

Boy! he was just like a jealous school boy! Then again when he was at school he was always jealous, always worried that another school boy would take Chris away from loyally following and being the bosom buddy of this man. Chris allowed the car to grind to a halt. Not that it had gone far!

“I'm taking Howard sailing! Not fishing. Now are you going to help a friend in need or not?”

Arnold Riverman relaxed a little and shrugged his shoulders, “Sure! Only if I can come with you!”

“What about your commitments?”

“Oh yeah! What commitments?” Arnie replied looking puzzled, he didn't have any commitments that he knew of.

“I'll ask Howard. I don't think he was planning on fishing?” He walked round and leaned in. The boy must have been listening and smiled, it was okay.

Howard didn't mind really. Arnold was okay. Fishing wasn't the plan, yet they had all day and it would be restful just anchored up somewhere with rods over the edge just hoping for a bite.

The car jerked and shuddered before coming alive as one Chris hopped in all smiles at the engine springing to life giving them hope of a day out, before being joined from the back by one Arnold . “You realise I have no bait?”

Arnold smiled, “I have!” He pulled a tub of maggots from his smelly wax jacket. The jacket smelt like rotting fish and Howard was sure the maggots were dying to infest the thing, believing it to be a rotting corpse or something equally horrible! He shuddered at the thought.

“Cold son?”

“No.”

“If you want to lay out in the back, Arnie can sit up front, if you like?” Chris was imagining that Harold was in pain sitting upright. He kept giving the boy a sideways glance waiting for a response, finally it came.

“I, aamm. F, fff, ferine.”

A face leaned forward between the gap in the front seats, “If you are sure? I can always swap if you change your mind.”

Harold got a whiff of that jacket and felt it would be definitely safer if the man stayed on the back seat. At least the fresh air vents hitting his face helped to drive back the smell. Howard Muster just smiled and nodded to show he was fine. Though his body was twisted he was in little pain today which surprised even he, who had taken such a beating from a rod. Still not the first time he had been beaten up. He cursed his past and for a second cursed the man who put him here and his friend. Just as if by coincidence they passed the church where Joey now rested in peace.

 

“Through the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. May he rest in peace.” These few words echoed through the cemetery and seem to bounce off the outside walls of the church and every grave stone. A solitary crow voiced his opinion as he took to flight as if announcing to all who had failed to notice, that one boy had lost his life and in a village which had managed to keep away from the troubles of the world, until last week that was. The vicar watched as first the boys mother placed a favourite toy onto the already sunk in the ground coffin. It was his childhood teddy bear, ‘Sir Lancelot' Joey called it, a small light brown bear with small curls. Harold had wanted to keep it as a reminder and had often wanted to dig down and get it. His injuries proved otherwise and the bear was condemned to its fate. A memory of one great friend!

Joey's father stepped forward, reaching down he picked up the damp soil, a handful and threw it onto the coffin. It was at this point Joey's mother broke down, to be held tightly by her husband. His dirty hand left an imprint on her own jacket as they walked away. Except this one could be washed away, unlike the loss of their son. That would stick forever, always able to stain their minds with sorrow.

 

My dear friend,

You've left the world of men.

How I miss you time and time again,

The memory of you will never fade away,

Like the memories of you and me in the summer rain,

Though I may try to forget you over and over again.

That fateful day will never allow me to unwind,

I wish I was old enough to be a lover of wine,

Then I may find comfort in loosing my mind,

Living these days as if I was blind.

Yet the love for you can never leave me alone,

And the pain, the memories act as your clone.

The talks we have I have them with you,

Though you are not here, I feel so blue,

Love hurts when I think of you.

I may be mad?

I do not know?

Yet I know I am insane as I grow.

I can never get over the death of you,

My wonderful friend Joey Masterson that is you.

May you never sleep with sorrow, as I am accustomed to do.

Because of loosing the love of you.

My dear friend forever times I am true to you.