A Cockney's Journey (8 page)

    “I know Laurie,” Joyce mentioned. “Nice fella, he is. You’ll be alright working there.” She then looked at Brian and pointed out that maybe I could get him in there later on. He didn’t look too enthusiastic about the idea as he raised his eyebrows and nodded his head.
    After dinner, which I must hasten to add included suet pudding and custard, we sat stuffed watching
The Golden Shot
with Bob Monkhouse and the sexy Ann Aston on the box. Halfway through the show, I felt my eyelids getting heavier and heavier and then I was gone. I wanted to stay awake to see
Bull’s Eye
but to no avail. I was awoken by the sound of barking. The next door neighbour’s dog was in the garden having a go at a cat sitting on the fence. I looked round and saw Brian, Dave and Auntie Joyce all in the land of nod. They were obviously used to the dog next door. I got up and put my crombie on and picked up my bag of clothes. I leant over Brian and gave him a gentle shake. He opened his eyes.
    “I’m off now. Can you thank your mum and brother from me?”
    “OK, Ed. I’ll see you in school tomorrow,” he said sleepily and promptly fell back to kip.
    I left Brian’s and walked home, carrying my goodies. The snow had melted and left behind a dirty grey slush everywhere. The street lamps shone in the darkness, casting shadows in every direction as I approached the back gate to the house. All of a sudden I heard my name being whispered in the distance. I glanced over my shoulder, thinking it was one of my friends but I couldn’t see anyone. I turned round in the direction of Lyndhurst Way and, to my horror, he was standing there staring at me. I dropped my bag in the wet slush and froze with fear. He stood there motionless; his large hat casting a shadow over his face.
What did he want with me and why the silence? Say something, anything, so I can deal with it.
But nothing! Not even a movement. For a few moments, we both just stood there, staring at each other. A car skidding as it turned into my street broke the silence. I watched the car skid in the icy slush and hit the kerb at high speed. There was a loud bang as the tyre exploded on impact with the kerb and the car came to a grinding halt. Two men jumped out, swearing like mad and ran off, leaving the car abandoned. My eyes went straight back to where he was standing, but he had vanished again.
    “What is going on?” I said, out loud. I picked up my bag and opened the gate. I walked up to the back door and entered the kitchen. I noticed that it was only eight forty, according to the clock on the wall.
    “You’ve decided to come home, have you? Come in here, boy,” my mother ordered. I sat down in the living room and got the third degree. After explaining about Laurie, my new job on Saturdays and the clothes Dave gave me, she remarked, “Good, that’ll save us a few bob if you can pay your way. Have you eaten?” she asked.
    “Yeah, I had dinner round Brian’s.”
    “OK you’d better get yourself ready for bed. You’ve got school in the morning, and be quiet. Your father’s asleep. He’s on early shifts this week,” she reminded me. I crept quietly up the stairs to my bedroom and sat on the bed admiring my new jumpers. I was well pleased.
When I get my wages next week, I’ll treat Dave and Joyce,
I thought to myself. I reached under my mattress and pulled out my
Shoot!
Magazine. I propped myself up on the pillows and started to read. I was in the middle of reading last week’s report on Chelsea v Leeds when I had a sudden urge to have a fag. I put the magazine down and jumped up. I switched the light off and gently opened the bottom sash window. The freezing cold wind came hurtling into my room. I quickly put a fag in my mouth and hung out the window; the cold air stung my cheeks and made my eyes water. My lighter clicked and my fag was alight. I rested my elbows on the sill and proceeded to puff away, staring into oblivion. I wondered what Ann was doing right now? I doubt if I’ll see her much this week; she’ll be revising for her exams. Why the hell didn’t I go to the same school as Ann, I fumed. My train of thought stopped abruptly at the sound of raised voices across the square. A man and a woman arm in arm were staggering across the street. They were very drunk and extremely loud. I flicked my butt away and pulled the sash down. I hid my lighter and fags then climbed into bed and soon drifted off to sleep.
    “Over here.”
    “Where?”
    “I’m over here, you idiot!”
    “I can’t see you. I know you’re there but I can’t see you. Show yourself to me.”
    “I’m right behind you, Eddieeeeee.”
    I spun around but I still couldn’t see anything.
    “Where are you?”
    “Right here next to you.”
    “No you’re not. Where are you? Stop hiding and stop playing games with me.”
    “This is no game,” the voice said, angrily. “Over here, I’m over here, look you fool!!”
    Eyes wide with fright, my head twisted frantically left and right trying to see some invisible horror stalking me.
    “Have you no eyes? Can’t you see me? Look! Look deep into your soul. Then and only then will you see and know who I am,” the voice cried.
    “I still can’t see you. Who are you and what do you want with me? If you don’t tell me, I’m going home.”
    “Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! You aren’t going anywhere.”
    His laugh sent shivers down my spine. It was so dark, I just couldn’t see him, however I could smell him now. A disgusting stink engulfed my nostrils.
    “You’re in my domain now and I’ve got you, do you understand?”
    “No I don’t. Show yourself, you coward!”
    “Coward! Who are you calling a coward, you little prick! Come and find me, I’m just over here.”
    I looked over my right shoulder and in the distance I saw some sort of large lizard or snake curled up with its head upright, looking at me. It had fangs like a vampire and a hideous grin.
    “Can you see me now?” it said as it rose up out of its curled-up body, spitting. It started to change its form. All of a sudden it had a large hat on and the body was covered in a long overcoat. The reptile had transformed itself into him, right before my very eyes.
    “I’ve been looking for you for a very long time,” he screamed. He advanced incredibly fast to where I stood rigid to the spot. His face was full of sores; maggots and worms wriggled out of his nose, eyes and mouth. His skin was wrinkled and bloodstained and when he pressed his face against mine his breath stunk; I felt nauseated. He opened his mouth to expose a large set of fangs. His eyes were black and lifeless. I screamed and sat bolt upright in my bed, sweating and shaking. My heart was pounding so fast that I couldn’t breathe properly. Was it a dream or was it reality? I wasn’t completely sure.
    I swung my legs out of the bed and sat there with my hands cupped over my face. After a few moments, I stood up and rubbed my eyes. Still shocked and distressed, I drew the curtains and the morning light entered my room and filled me with a false sense of security. I clumsily staggered towards the bathroom. I was sitting on the bog when the door handle started turning vigorously.
    “Who’s in there?” my sister shouted through the keyhole.
    “I’ll be out in a minute. I’m just having a crap,” I shouted back.
    “Charming! Hurry up, will you? You’re not the only one who’s got to get ready for school,” she said sarcastically.
    I quickly washed and brushed my teeth and unlocked the bathroom door.
    “Cheers!” she said, charging past me like a rocket and then slamming the door shut.
Girls,
I thought. She’d be in there for half an hour, that’s for sure. I went back to my bedroom and changed into my school uniform. I headed downstairs to the kitchen.
    “There’s toast on the table and a boiled egg in the bowl. Take only one piece of toast and one egg, Eddie,” my mother ordered.
    “OK, Mum,” I said disappointedly.
    I folded the toast in half and cut the egg up to form half a sandwich. I sat there munching, taking my time over it. I knew I wouldn’t be eating anything else till one o’clock. After I had finished, I got up and had a glass of water. As I put my glass on the drainer, there was a loud knock on the back door. I reached over, opening the door.
    “You ready yet, or what?” beamed Tony.
    “Yeah, give me a second,” I turned round and grabbed my blazer that was hanging over a chair and shouted out to my mother. “I’m off. See you later.”
    “Your father wants you in straight from school,” my mother informed me.
    “What for?” I moaned.
“He just does, so make sure you’re home.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    The assembly hall was full to the brim with every pupil sitting cross-legged on the floor. I pointed out to Tony that there was room at the back of the hall and we shuffled through the mass of kids and plonked ourselves down on the floor. I sat there with my arms cupped around my legs. I was the only one who didn’t cross their legs. I couldn’t. If I did, everyone would see the holes in my shoes and I would be the laughing stock of the school. The teachers stood on the stage, waffling on about exams and the dos and don’ts of the tests. The Headmaster had just started to recite his daily sermon when a loud bang sounded behind me. The noise made quite a few pupils jump, including me. A vast cloud of smoke circled above my head and the smell of sulphur consumed the hall.
    “You!” The Head shouted, pointing with a ruler in his hand towards me.
    I looked round and everyone was looking at me. Why were they all eyeballing me?
    “You! Stand up!” he cried. I pointed to my chest, indicating whether he meant me or not.
    He motioned his ruler up and down, so I stood up.
    “I didn’t do anything,” I pleaded.
    “Shut up, boy. What’s your name?” he blasted.
    “Eddie Aaahhh…” I didn’t get a chance to finish my reply. Out of the blue, a teacher appeared, grabbed my ear and pulled me towards the corridor and along to the Head’s study.
    “I didn’t do anything, sir. Honest!” I begged.
    “Shut up and get in here, lad,” he demanded.
    He flung open the door and threw me in by my ear, slamming the door shut. I stood in front of his desk without moving a muscle. “Empty your pockets, lad,” the teacher shouted.
    “Why? I haven’t done anything.”
    With that statement, he grabbed my jacket collar and pulled me over the desk. He started riffling in my pockets.
    “What’s this?” he said in a sharp voice.
Oh shit!! Condemned because I smoke.
“Fags and a bloody lighter?” he shouted. “You know the rules, son,” he said, jerking me upright. “This will get you suspended.”
    
Every cloud has a silver lining,
I thought. The study door opened and in walked Mr. Wilson.
    “Well, Mr. Harris, What’s he got to say for himself?” he asked.
    “He denies it, sir, but I found these in his possession.” He held aloft my fags and lighter.
    “Right, leave him to me Mr. Harris, Your class is waiting.”
    “OK,” he said, as he left the study.
    
I’m gonna get caned for something I haven’t even done
and
I’ve lost my fags and lighter. This is just so unfair.
    “Right, lad, you are in serious trouble for that prank you pulled in assembly. Apart from the caning I am going to give you, the school will write to your parents and explain why you have been suspended, Do you understand me, boy?”
    “Yes sir,” I sighed.
    He walked over to his coat stand and pulled out a long stick made of bamboo. He held both ends and was testing its flexibility.
    “This is going to hurt me more than you,” he reckoned.
    
I don’t bloody think so.
    “Bend over and touch your toes,” he demanded.
    He walked behind me and lifted my jacket tails up my back. I braced myself for the onslaught and gritted my teeth. There was a swift whooshing noise as the cane whacked my backside; the pain and stinging that immediately followed after contact cannot be described in any way, shape or form. I didn’t flinch, though. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had hurt me. Five more followed; each one harder than the last. I could sense his frustration as I refused to make even a murmur.
    “Stand up, boy,” he insisted. “And put your hands out,” I stood there, my arms outstretched with my palms facing up. I couldn’t speak I was in so much pain. I just stared at him with hatred in my eyes. I had a sharp pain running down my leg and into my calf muscle.
Now this is a different ball game, getting caned across your fingertips. This is going to kill me.
    “Think you’re hard boy, do you?” he smirked. “Well, we will see about that, laddie.”
    He lifted his arm to its highest point. I closed my eyes as the cane came thundering down at great speed and smashed across the fingertips on my left hand. He hit me with such force that the back of my hand collided with my knee; a sharp, searing pain, followed by aching numbness shooting up to my elbow and into my shoulder. My fingertips were throbbing and stinging; the pain was immense. As I raised my arms up ready for the next blow, my eyes were streaming with tears that ran down my cheeks. I still never made any sound; his face was distorted and red with rage. He let fly with the second attack.
The bastard! Went for the same hand again.
In his eagerness to get some sort of reaction from me, he missed my fingertips. There was a loud crack as his power struck and broke my thumb. I screamed so loud the whole school must have heard me. I fell to my knees with my thumb all bent and bleeding.
    “You bloody idiot. You moved. I told you not to move!” he screamed in a panic. He rushed me to the first aid room. “Where is she?” he stormed.
    “She’ll be back in minute,” said the cleaner.
    “Sit there, boy, and wait for her,” he said quietly.
    “Are you all right, son? Your hand looks a mess. What happened?” the cleaner asked. I was just about to tell her when the first aid lady appeared.
    “What have we here, then?” I held my hand up.
    “Oh my! That’s nasty, boy. Come on; let’s have a look at it. How did this happen?” she asked, as she was cleaning the cut with antiseptic.
    “Mr. Wilson caned me.”
    “Been a naughty boy, have we?” she said sarcastically.
    “Yeah, I suppose so.” I couldn’t be bothered to plead my innocence. No one would listen anyway. Funny thing, accusations; all my life I’ve been accused and blamed for stuff I never did. She put splints and a bandage on my thumb. My bum was stinging as I sat there.
    “Is it broken?” I asked.
    “No, just dislocated, you’ll be fine in a few days.”
    
Thank God for that. I’ve got work on Saturday.
    “Right, go up and see Mr. Wilson. I’ve finished with you now.”
    I trudged along the corridor to his study, holding my hand up and feeling sorry for myself. I knocked on his door.
    “Sit and wait a minute,” he shouted.
    I sat down waiting, my bum still sore from his assault. I started to get emotional and tears slowly trickled down my face.
What had I done to deserve this horrible existence? Everybody is against me. Why? What have I done? If Nan was right, where was my guardian angel when I needed help? Why did my angel let me get punished for something I never did?
    Mr. Harris opened the study door. “Ah Eddie, you OK, son?” he said, with what appeared to be genuine concern. “Come in, Mr. Wilson wishes to speak to you.”
    Mr. Harris sat on a chair next to Wilson’s desk twiddling his fingers; their attitude had completely changed.
    “Eddie, it takes a big man to admit he’s made a mistake. I am truly sorry for the punishment I dealt you. I was completely wrong in my accusations against you. The real culprit was caught fifteen minutes ago by a senior prefect in the toilets. He had a pocket full of bangers and was attempting to light one when apprehended,” he revealed. He handed me back my lighter and fags. “Don’t bring these into school again, OK?” I shook my head in agreement. “How’s your hand, son?”
    “Very sore, sir,” I sighed.
    “Shall we forget about the whole incident today?”
    “Yeah, I suppose so,” I said, thinking I’d like to throttle the wanker.
    “Good! You can have the rest of the week off to recuperate, then!”
    “What shall I tell my parents?”
    “That you had a fall in the gym during P.E. I will confirm that fact if she calls the school. Is that OK?”
    “Yeah, fine,” I said. Well, I had no choice really, did I?
    “Once again, son, I am truly sorry about this incident,” he said.
    I walked out of the school gates and headed up the high street. The freezing cold wind went through me like a sharp blade, cutting me to the bone. It was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.
It was nearly December and by the time I go back to school next week, it’ll be three weeks till Christmas. Yeah!
I approached the jeweller’s and peered through the glass pane, so many to choose from and quite a few in my price range. I bent down, retrieving my two-pound notes from inside my sock and walked into the shop.
    “Can I help you, young man?” came the pleasant voice from behind the counter. An old grey-haired man with tiny spectacles resting on his nose was speaking.
    “Yes please. I’m looking for a watch,” I said excitedly.
     I explained I had two pounds to spend.
    “Really?” he smiled. He peered over the top of his spectacles “Present, or for yourself?” he asked, pulling a tray from under the counter.
    “For me, sir.”
    “Have a look at these ones, son, tell me which one catches your eye.”
    I was scanning the tray, picking up watches and checking them out when he asked me how I hurt my hand. I told him what had happened at school. Why I told him is beyond me; I just felt compelled to tell him. In any case, he was a nice old fella.
    “I like this one. How much?” I asked curiously.
    “It’s your lucky day, son,” he reckoned. Blimey!
If this is a lucky day, you can shove it,
I thought.
    “Why is that?”
    “It’s in the sale. Half price, in fact,” he said. “Just one pound to you son.”
    “I’ll take it, sir,” I said, feeling chuffed. I handed him a pound, asking him if he would be so kind as to put the watch on my wrist for me. Due to my current incapacity with regards to my hands, he duly obliged and I thanked him for his kindness.
    “Don’t worry, son, everything will come to you in time. Just be patient, you’ve got a long hard slog ahead, but just stay focused. You will see the light, maybe not for many years to come, but believe me son you will. Take care of yourself.” he said smiling, as if he knew something I didn’t.
    I left the shop confused.
What did he mean, a long hard slog? A bit cryptic for my liking.
I looked at my watch it was eleven forty-five. I felt hungry and there was no school dinner today. I couldn’t go home, there was no one in and I was never allowed a key to the house. I did ask once but that request fell on deaf ears.
Right, Wimpy it is then.
I walked up the high street towards the Wimpy. Most of the shops had Christmas decorations hanging in their windows. I stood at the pedestrian crossing waiting for the lights to turn red and as I glanced across the road, I noticed Ann coming out of Blueberry’s gift shop hand in hand with this blonde guy. They were laughing and joking together; my heart sank and I felt physically sick. I stood and watched them disappear into the crowd of shoppers who were marching up the high street. As the lights changed to red, I forced myself to cross the road, feeling very stressed and angry.
Why did she hold my hand? She kissed me so gently and beautifully. Is this some sort of game girls play? Maybe it’s a power thing.
Maybe Ann does this all the time. I felt betrayed, hurt and totally confused.
I entered the Wimpy bar and sat down. My mind was still buzzing. The thought of Ann kissing him was unthinkable. Maybe he was just a friend or a relative and the thought filled me with hope. Of course! I’ve held hands with Karen and Lyn before now and we’re just mates. I convinced myself that was the case. I ordered a brunch and a bottle of Fanta. My backside was still sore and my thumb and fingers were throbbing like mad. The waiter plonked my plate and Fanta down in front of me.
    “Here you are, sir. Enjoy your brunch,” he said in broken English.
    “Thanks, mate,” I replied.
    The food didn’t even touch the sides; I was ravenous. After I had drunk my Fanta, I gave a loud burp and left the Wimpy. I started to walk down the high street and glanced at my watch.
Half past twelve; I should get to Rose’s by one,
I thought to myself.
    I opened the gate and walked up the pathway to Rose’s front door and twisted the doorbell. I waited a few seconds, gazing at the stained glass window as I waited. I noticed a shadow approach and open the door. Ashen-faced and looking distraught, Rose just gestured me inside. I followed her silently into the lounge. She plonked herself down on the sofa with a big sigh.
    “What happened to your hand?” she asked, looking concerned. She motioned me to sit down. “Tell me what happened, Eddie?”
    “It happened at school,” I explained. I decided to tell Rose the whole story, including what the old man in the jeweller’s said to me.
    “Well, Eddie, you sure are going through a rough patch at the moment,” she sighed.
    “He keeps following me, Rose, and last night he nearly got me during the night. What can I do?” I asked, feeling despondent.
    “What? He came last night? The bloody liar told me that he would leave you alone for a while,” Rose said angrily.
    “You spoke to him?” I gasped.
    “Yes, last night,” Rose stormed. “His spirit is alarmingly strong. He was a very powerful and evil man when he was on our physical plane. He has had many life times on Earth and refuses to accept the universal law. That’s why he’s in limbo at present. He is being tormented and punished for the acts he committed while on Earth. He roams the deep void, searching for souls who get lost when they astral travel. He’s not the only one either; there are many demons in the deep void, Eddie. He uses susceptible children and teenagers to come through. The fact that he can manifest himself through you when you are awake is utterly fascinating. You’re his magnet from the deep void. Why do you let him in, Eddie?”
    “I don’t, and even if I did, I have no recollection of it.” I answered, all confused.
    “I don’t understand how he’s manifesting himself through you. Your home life is happy isn’t it, Eddie? I mean, you have a loving family, don’t you?”
    I’d never told Rose about my family. I had a feeling that was all about to change.
    “Well,” I sighed, “it’s like this; it started when I was ten and gradually he became more and more violent to the point were he’s nearly killed me before.” I continued telling Rose all about my father and what he had done to me, both physically and mentally. Rose looked at me in horror and was visibly shaken by my statement.
    “My God! You poor boy, that’s how he comes through. He uses your pain and sorrow and most of all your feeling of unworthiness. Oh, Eddie! I’m so sorry.” She stood up and gave me a big hug; a small teardrop rolled down my cheek.