The Game of Shepherd and Dawse (13 page)

His children all thought he was something special because he was the ‘nice man’ with the penny sweets. It wouldn’t be until years later that the children would see him for the pathetic loser and homewrecker he truly was.

Nettie was no different than any other fatherless child. She so yearned for a father and the love that should come with him that she thought her sperm donor was amazing. He was the cheerful, happy guy with the bag of sweets who ruffled her hair and gave her a wink. This attention was like a drug to her and Nettie never stopped talking about him once he left. Nettie’s mother, Tracey, resented Nettie’s father and resented the fact that she had been burdened with Nettie since her birth, so whenever the father would pay them a visit, Nettie could be sure there would be a fresh dose of resentment and cruelty from her mother. The irony of it all was that Nettie always looked forward to her father turning up, despite the fact it would always portend the horrible dark days sure to follow.

Any lesser child would have grown into a nasty and vicious character, but Nettie soul’s purpose was to be a blocker – that is, someone who blocks the spread of negativity, almost like a sponge. This was not a purpose that Nettie was consciously aware of because it was what her soul had agreed to do before she embarked on her journey as a human being on this particular planet. This is something Nettie didn’t know it at the time and would never know - how truly amazing she had been - until after she left the planet.

She was known at school as Spotty Nettie because of all the little spots around her mouth. She perpetually had these spots because her mother had a fascination with wiping Nettie's mouth with a dishrag after their evening meal. Her mother didn’t have too much in the way of brains and she never stopped to think that the bleach she used on the cloth when she cleaned was giving poor Nettie a rash. Another reason for her unpopularity was that Nettie incessantly smelled of pee. This was because whenever her mother knocked her about, Nettie would end up wetting the bed. Adding insult to injury, Nettie also wore big thick glasses with cheap nasty frames because her mother couldn’t be bothered to buy her any decent ones. From head to toe, Nettie was the personification of ‘victim’ waiting for the next would-be bully to aim their insults her way.

To the untrained eye, all of this together made for a rather unattractive child. This meant Nettie never received the attention she so craved and when she did things to try and gain attention, she ended up with the opposite effect. Yet – for the more observant observer – she was the most scrumptious, adorable, cute little child that one could ever wish to meet, under all her external mess. Some around her were able to see through this – the first being Zoe Elkins. Zoe had her own problems, as she always had a blocked nose due to a sinus problem, but because of this she couldn’t smell the pee on Nettie’s clothes and became her first friend.

Nettie’s other friend was young Charlie. Not that Charlie knew of this friendship, but Nettie considered him a good friend because of the occasions when he waved up at her bedroom window on his way home from school, after Nettie’s mother chased her into her bedroom for some imagined sin.

Nettie’s other friend was Mrs Dot, her school teacher. Mrs Dot was the first teacher who didn’t use Nettie as the class punching bag and for this, Nettie was eternally grateful.

Mrs Dot absolutely loved children. The more challenged the child, the more she loved them. Mrs Dot couldn’t have children of her own, but rather than becoming bitter about it she decided to go into teaching. At school, she showered her abundance of motherly love over all those who needed it. And there were many who needed it.

Even though little Nettie often found herself being the emotional dustbin to those around her, she remained a gentle and kind soul. She never returned the negativity she received from others. When people were being spiteful toward Nettie, she would always do her best to let it go. Despite these burdens, she would be the first to feel sorry for others when they were unhappy. You could say that she didn’t have a nasty bone in her body. Nettie just did the best she could with the lot life had given her. She possessed an inner strength that most spoiled children would never have.

Sadly, Nettie didn’t appear to be too bright. By the age of 10, she’d been long discarded by most of her teachers and consigned to the rubbish heap of British education. The yearly report that was sent out to each parent on their child’s performance was always the same for Nettie and it had become a time of year she’d learned to dread. Now the bed wetting would get worse, which meant more punishment and abuse from her mother, which in turn meant more bed wetting.

Up to the point when Nettie got Mrs Dot as a teacher, her yearly reports would be a merry-go-round of negativity. This was the time of year that the less-well-liked children would be on the receiving end of all the pent up anger and negativity of their teacher. It may have been because a teacher was stressed out with work, or fed up with family life, or that he or she just didn’t like that particular child. But the effects were always the same. The power of the pen didn’t just become mightier than the sword, it became the sword and once the teacher had finished their negativity dump, it would be the turn of the parents. A golden opportunity for some.

Nettie’s report would always have the same flavour:

•Must try harder

•Could do better

•Feel I am wasting my time with this child

•Spends too much time day-dreaming

One glance would tell any casual reader what the teacher was urging the parents to do. Nettie was a day dreamer, there was no denying that. Day dreaming was Nettie’s solace. It was the one place she could go and be whomever she wanted to be. It was the one place where everyone liked her, and where she had a loving father and a loving mother. It was the one place Nettie thought of as home – a sweet little home with lots of fairies.

Today was that very dreaded day of year that Nettie had been trying to shove to the back of her head, the day of the yearly report. Everyone thought it was hilarious how little Nettie would always be the first out of the school gates and how she would run like a maniac with a frightened look on her face. She had quite gangly legs that weren’t really made for running – let alone trying to run with the huge second hand, jumble sale school bag that was far too big for her. She did look a sight.

“Go on, Nettie, run for your life”! Some cried after her.

NETTIE

This would be the cruel taunt that would echo behind her. Not that she took any notice of it, as she was more concerned with getting home. What the school children didn’t realize was that she really was running for her life. Her mother had set a strict time limit on the time it should take her to get home from school. Class finished at half past three and she had to be home by 3.33. Most of the time she made it. On occasion she didn’t – if some of the boys had been cruel and refused to let her pass or if they had been kept behind in class for a minute or two, then she would be late. It was on these occasions when her mother would really go to town on Nettie and unleash any pent up anger or negativity she herself had acquired during the day.

Straight up to her room, no evening meal and an early night would be the order of the day when poor little Nettie had just missed the clock. Two seconds or not, the time was the time, as far as Tracey was concerned. Her only consolation on such days would be when Charlie would walk past and smile and wave to her, as she stared longingly out of her bedroom window at the other children and the great life they all appeared to have. Her mother knew that it would be a close call every time and she was actually disappointed when Nettie did make it. The real irony was that everyone at school thought Nettie loved going home and that that was why she made such a mad dash as soon as class had ended.

“Come on, Nettie. I’ll run with you, if you like”, Charlie called out. He had some exciting news for Joe and couldn’t wait to tell him.

“Ok, Charlie. I’ll race you”! Nettie smiled, pleased for once that she wasn’t the only child running like a maniac. All that running over the years had made her quite a speedy little racer and Charlie could only just keep up. They got to Nettie’s house and each caught their breath for a moment. It was the first time that Nettie had really enjoyed running.

“Thanks, Charlie”, Nettie called as she sped into her house. “See you tomorrow”! Charlie slowly made his way up to Joe, who was sitting in his usual chair, in his usual spot outside his house.

“Hiya, Joe! I've got some great news, mate. Have a look at this!” Charlie proudly presented Joe the English test he had taken that afternoon. He'd earned a whopping 92 percent. Joe had promised him that if he managed to get at least 74 percent he would read him more from Shepherd Wood.

“Well, well, well”, Joe said as he carefully looked the test paper over. “Check out the little brain box, Charlie. Good on ya kidda, Looks like I’ll be doing a bit a bit of reading myself tonight then, eh”? Replied Joe, genuinely pleased that Charlie was doing so well. True to his promise, once they got all of their bits and pieces out of the way, Joe and Charlie settled down for an evening of literary adventure and Joe started the story just where he'd left off before.

CHAPTER TEN

WHAT WERE THEY TO DO?

“
If a life is lived well then death is no tragedy, no matter what the circumstances”.~ Aman

That evening, the community of Shepherd Wood gathered on the other side of the river for a mass meeting. It was important that everyone learned about what had been seen by the tracking party. They all discussed the current situation and meticulously planned out what they were going to do and who was going to do what.

As word spread to the outer reaches of the other Shepherd tribes, about what they had seen, the tribes all came together to make one big huge tribe, doubling the size of the original one.

Building a barrier around the settlement turned out to be a gargantuan task. After all, this was the first fort that had been built in their history. There were bound to be errors but a combination of sheer will and weight of numbers meant they actually built something that resembled a fort. This was much to the dismay of the children who now felt penned in, but the adults were mainly concerned with safety. It had taken just over a month to erect the impenetrable wooden barrier.

Aman was finally starting to regain some of her sparkle, but still she was unable to walk. She lay on the medicine bed talking with Aisha and telling her how she was going to grow the biggest most juicy juju berries when she got better. Aisha was overjoyed to see Aman regaining some of her former strength but this made it even more heart breaking when it came to telling her what she needed to say. They both knew it had to be said and besides, the bump was starting to show.

“Do you remember the impregnation”? Asked Aisha in the softest and most motherly voice she could muster.

Aman curled up into a ball and gripped her mother’s hand tightly.

“No, I don’t, and I’m glad about that. All I know is that I have this thing growing inside me that belongs half to me and half to some other...”

Aman stopped because it was too painful to go on and Aisha wasn’t about to push her for more details. Aisha was concerned about the ill feelings Aman was having toward the unborn child. She knew how important it was for any unborn being to feel its mother’s love, but she reasoned she was in no position to judge. Aisha felt bad for bringing down her little angel after her short glimpse of happiness, but she was glad she had asked. At least they could talk about it now and that was a great relief.

Aman sensed her mother’s pain and made a little joke about planting the baby into the ground and growing a huge juju bush from it. Although it diffused the situation, it didn’t hide the pain they both felt deeply. It was a start though and everything has to start somewhere, Aisha told herself. At least Aman was finding something to joke about in her life, even if it was in the smallest amounts.