A story by Bard Boy [bard_boy(at)protonmail(dot)com]
Comments, thoughts, feedback, etc. to the above address gratefully received.
Epilogue
The sun was barely visible over the castle walls as James and Elias came bounding out of the main doors, dressed to travel, rucksacks on their backs. They’d both donned shades; the glare from the early-morning late-August sun was too much for their eyes. James’ sunglasses were rather fancy. Lovers in the backseat. There was a rattling on the courtyard stones as James lugged a heavy, wheeled suitcase towards the gateway. At this time of morning, the gates were closed. Only the little door built into them was open.
Mary Stanley was manning the doorway. She was a broad woman with tightly curled red-brown hair and freckles dotted across a warm, round face; musclebound arms and ample breasts. She waved at James and Elias as they approached, Elias smiling and waving warmly back.
“Nice shades!” she cooed to the boy. “You’re looking really flash!”
“Thanks!” grinned Elias.
“Oh, James,” she groaned, squeezing him into a backbreaking hug. “It’s such a shame to be losing you. I’m so sorry for what’s happened. Really.”
“That’s okay,” replied James. “Thanks for saying so. With Elias arriving, I’d had to have made a change anyway. Right now, I think it’s for the best that he gets to see where his uncle lived, and where I grew up.”
“You excited, Elias?” asked Mary.
“Yeah!” he said. “I can’t wait to go up the river on the boat!”
“Say,” observed Mary, “that’s a big case you’ve got there. I thought Manny and Tracey had already helped you move all the big stuff?”
“Yeah,” said James. “There’s always a bit more than you expect, isn’t there? I’ve got the last of it loaded on the punt already. Just our personal bits and bobs and ourselves to go.”
“Manny and Tracey still down at your farm with Theo?” asked Mary.
“They’re having a bit of a break,” James confirmed. “It’s good for Theo, the way everything’s been here lately. Nice to get away. Plus, they can help us get all moved in.”
“It did seem like they were taking a lot of stuff for you,” mused Mary.
“You know me,” said James. “Can’t leave any of my books and papers behind. Proper hoarder.”
“Aye,” laughed Mary. “Hoarder of knowledge more like! Say, I dunnaa how that poor lad in there’s gonna cope with you gone and Manny away, especially now his mother’s done a runner, like.”
“I’ve already said all there is to say about that,” said James, shaking his head. “Can you blame Harmonie, with the way people have been since?”
“Shame for the lad, though, for his mother just to up and leave him,” said Mary. “Whatever he’s done, like, he don’t deserve that.”
“It’ll be tough for him,” sighed James. “Do me a favour, make sure he gets a lie in today?”
“Aye,” nodded Mary. “I’ll see to that. Like a last request!”
Elias fiddled with the zip of the suitcase, poking his finger into the point at the top where the two zippers met.
“Don’t fiddle with that, mate,” said James, winking at Elias.
“Ah, leave him be!” chuckled Mary. “He’s just antsy to get on his way, eh, lad?”
Elias cocked his head at Mary and gave her a shy smile. She ruffled his hair.
“Come here, you!” said Mary, cracking James’ back with another hug. She released him and held him by the bicep and elbow. “You look after yourself, eh? You too, young man. Make sure this one doesn’t get you into too much trouble!”
“Thanks, Mary,” said James. “I’ll miss this place, too. Come on, El. Let’s be on our way.”
“You go through,” said Mary, a little teary-eyed. “I’ll pass the case through for you, save you having to mess about.”
“It’s no trouble–”
“How, don’t be daft, man. Go on.”
James eased Elias ahead of him through the doorway. Mary heaved the case through after them with a grunt.
“That’s a heavy load!” she said, reaching through the gates to place it carefully on the ground outside. James grabbed it by the handle.
“The last of my books,” James explained. “Couldn’t bear to have them go ahead of me.”
“You all over!” chuckled Mary. “Goodbye, pet. Don’t be a stranger!”
“I won’t!” called James, waving back as he powerwalked along the castle walkway.
“Bye!” waved Elias, turning to trot along and catch up with James, already stepping out onto Palace Green.
“Let’s go!” hissed James. “Quick!”
“We did it!” bounced Elias.
“Shh! We’re not out of the woods yet. Hurry after me!”
They speed walked through Hatfield, James grunting and snorting as he carried the suitcase down to the A-Stairs basement and out through the back door. They slipped their way down the rear pathway, trying not to bump the suitcase too much over potholes and rogue steps on the way. Their punt greeted them at the Hatfield landing stage, laden with other bags and cases of their belongings. James lifted the heavy case into place with a clunk. The moored boat wobbled and bobbed on the river, sunlight gleaming off the honey-brown flow in pinpricks of glitter.
“You’ll have to untie us, El,” said James, picking up the metal pole. “I’ll push us off.”
Elias fumbled with the rope knot until the flat-bottomed boat was eventually free. James pushed them off as hard as he could, sending them skittling upstream along the river, tracking a few boat widths off the bank down towards the stone arches of Elvet Bridge. Elias, sat facing James and watching the scenery drift past him in reverse, wasn’t still for long. He opened his rucksack on the seat beside him.
“That’s it,” said James. “Get the change of clothes ready. Don’t jump the gun, though.”
They floated through the tight arches of Elvet Bridge, the river turning away from the high promontory of the Bailey. James was giving it everything he had to get their speed up. He knew he had to in this first section, until they got clear of Shincliffe. Elias went to unzip the case.
“Not yet!” snapped James.
Elias sat back down with a plop, making the boat rock and shudder in the water. James used the pole as a rudder, straightening them back up. With another mighty heave into the stony riverbed, they picked up another burst of acceleration. Elias looked up and watched them pass under the high hump of Baths Bridge.
“I’m doing it now,” he said.
“Wait!” hissed James, but Elias was already leaning over the suitcase, releasing the zips at the handle end. It creaked open. The top half of a naked boy popped out.
“We out of the city already?” squeaked Archie. “Ah, no, man! That’s where I go for me baths. We’re still by Whinney Hill!”
“Get back down!” snapped James. “Elias, give him the clothes to put on while he’s in the case.”
Nobody could’ve seen him; it was still early in the morning. Over on the old university cricket ground the cows had barely started their grazing for the day. The air was still. James pushed the punt on again, the little octagonal gazebo thing by the riverside and the statue of the Dun Cow in sight on the bank ahead. That’s when he heard the shouting, back in the city, vibrating off the building fronts in the calm of the sunny summer morning.
“There’s people pointing at us, back on the stone bridge!” said Elias, pushing his sunglasses down and shading his eyes from the sun to squint back at the city. James turned his head to look back, pushing the boat on again with another thrust of the pole. They passed the cow statue on their right. Somewhere up the thicketed hill on their left, the College of St Hild & St Bede watched over them. They drifted past the bandstand gazebo. Behind them, a man sprinted along the bank between Elvet Bridge and Baths Bridge, but he was a long way behind.
“Are they gonna catch us?” asked Archie, popping his head out of the suitcase again to reveal he was now sporting a blue sleeveless vest from Elias’ new collection of clothes.
“Too late now,” said James, grunting as he pushed the punt onward upstream at full speed. Water dripped down his arms from the metal pole. Sweat and river water streamed down his face. The turn by the rowing and rugby clubs was coming up, where a burn joined from the side. They’d be around Whinney Hill and at Maiden Castle in no time. “No chance of them raising the alarm at the Shincliffe Bridge in time, even if they have a bike.”
“I hope so,” said Elias. “I don’t want them to lock us all up.”
“Aye,” came Archie’s voice from back inside the case. “That’s no fun, I can promise you that.”
“Just stay down in the case for now, Arch,” instructed James. “I’ll let you know when we get past Shincliffe.”
“Alright,” piped the boy inside the suitcase. “Least I can see the sky now.”
James pushed past the sports ground at Maiden Castle. His arms were cramping, and he’d nearly lost his balance a couple of times on the back end of the boat, but they were nearly safe, and afterwards he could rest a little. Maybe even give Archie or Elias a go. He instinctively gazed at the bank where the Hollerans kept their goats. They’d donated a couple to James, now on the farm, to help him get it restarted again. Chickens, too. He wondered how they’d feel when they found out what he’d really done. It didn’t matter. He knew he was right. Cybi knew it too. He was at the bank, drinking from the river as James and the boys sped by against the flow. He raised his head and bleated respectfully, watching them pass by before returning to the water to drink again.
“That was Cybi!” said Elias. “Bye, Cybi!”
“Bye, Cubster,” said James, before mumbling under his breath: “Tough old bastard.”
A couple of minutes later, they passed under the road bridge between Maiden Castle and Shincliffe. Archie saw the base of the bridge passing above him and scrambled from the suitcase to take a seat beside Elias. Someone had abandoned a bike on the bridge and was bellowing at the top of his voice. James realised it was Rob Clifford. Sarah Holleran had come running down the road to see what the commotion was about. Immy followed in her mother’s wake.
Rob’s face was a picture as James’ boat popped out from the bridge beneath them, carrying them away towards the woods, and out of the control of Durham City. Immy made it to the railings of the bridge, leaning over in disbelieving surprise as she watched James, Archie, and Elias float away up the river. She laughed with joy.
“James!” she shouted, waving her arms. “James! Good luck, sir! Fucking good luck!”
The bridge disappeared behind the overgrowth of trees. James gave another heave on the pole, and they turned past old farmland reclaimed by thick shrubbery. A wooded, hilly ridge separated them from Shincliffe. James looked at the boys. They looked at each other and laughed. Archie was crying.
“Did we do it?” he demanded. “Did we really get away?”
“Don’t think they’ll bother trying to catch us at Sunderland Bridge,” said James. “Too far south, not enough people out to get us. Especially without Manny there to organise.”
“Fuckin’ mint!” grinned Archie. Elias squealed with falsetto laughter.
“Language, Arch,” James chided with a smirk. He was still heaving as hard as he could to keep the punt at speed. He wouldn’t truly believe they were safe until they were clear of the old Great North Road at Sunderland Bridge and Croxdale, though there was no way he could keep up this pace until then.
“Will Uncle Manny be waiting for us at the farm?” asked Elias.
“He’ll be meeting us at the bend by St James, where we always used to leave the boat,” said James, panting from the relentless pace. “Your mom, too, Arch.”
“I cannit wait!” Archie smiled, rubbing his hands with glee. “How long’s it gonna take, like?”
“All day!” laughed James. “I can’t keep us going this fast forever!”
“What are we gonna do till then?” said Archie incredulously, his face contorted.
“I brought snacks!” Elias grinned. “And we can play I-spy! I’ll go first. I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with… C!”
“Cow…?” tried Archie.
“Nope!” smirked Elias, shaking his head quickly.
“Uhhh… Cloud?” he tried again.
“No!” laughed Elias. “You’re never gonna get it.”
“Ah, how man!” groaned Archie. “That’s not fair. I never win games like this.”
“Don’t worry Arch,” said James, pushing the punt on again. “We have got all day.”
“Living with you’s gonna drive me up the wall,” Archie sighed, turning to Elias and folding his arms dramatically.
“Well…” squeaked Elias, stretching out his arms playfully and wrapping one roughly around Archie’s neck, “sometimes in life you get what you deserve.”
James laughed. Archie was trying hard not to let a smirk crack his face, too.
“Wise words, El,” winked James. “You remind me of someone I used to know.”
Credits
Words: Bard Boy [bard_boy@protonmail.com]
With thanks to: Alex B, Craig P, Talo Segura & Zachyboy
With inspiration from: Looking For JJ by Anne Cassidy; The Guilty One by Lisa Ballantyne; The Children Act by Ian McEwan; The Sleep Of Reason by David James Smith; and much more – I am what I eat.
For the world of 2019.
Starring
James Martin (age 9-32): Sensitive, thoughtful, mousey-haired hero who never quite stopped learning and growing up. Self-preservation is the greatest act of rebellion against the universe.
“Jake?” asked James, looking up from the book Jake had given him. He was reclined back in his corner of the sofa, nearest the fireplace, his jogger-clad legs and brightly-stockinged feet arranged untidily on the seat cushion. He rolled up a lilting, sing-song question; the kind of question tone a child preserves for a teacher. “What does saccharine mean?”
“It means sort of sickly-sweet,” answered Jake, reaching out his foot from the battered pouffe in front of the armchair to touch James’ big toe with his own. “Like so gooey it’s over the top.”
“Oh,” said James, observing Jake seriously over the top edge of his book, and wiggling his toe back against Jake’s. “Like you sometimes when we’re in bed together, then?”
Manny Addo (age 10-31): The ringlet-haired ragamuffin who brought his bundles of love and fun to complete the original threesome. Affection is voluntary, but love is reflexive.
“I don’t think there’s much useful here, Jake,” said James, peering around the frigid, dingy warehouse as he walked a polythene and polystyrene-strewn aisle with Manny. “It’s all, like, bottles with skeletons drawn on them.”
“Ha! Look at this one!” exclaimed Manny with delight. “Toilet Duck! Look at the little spout on the top, too! It looks like a soft, floppy willy!”
James’ eyes lit up. He stood rocking in semi-silent titters as Manny grabbed a bottle of Toilet Duck and unscrewed the cap. He pulled it roughly to his crotch, leaned back, and rotated and thrust his hips as he squirted the liquid in a wide stream in front of him.
“Look at me!” giggled Manny. “I’m a toilet duck!”
“Manny!” snapped Jake, striding along the aisle to catch up with the boys. “Don’t do that! It’s chemicals!”
“Can’t hear you Jake,” laughed Manny. “I’m a widdling toilet duck! Quack quack!”
Archie Stephens (age 10): The sad little boy with the dirty-blond hair, who did – and didn’t – take out his pain and frustration on little Angelika Wojnowski. I remember that day; it was our last. When the tempers that fray can’t go back. And I won’t let you go through that day again – I won’t let you go through that day again.
“Goats are weird,” complained Archie. “I dinnit like ’em at all.”
“It’s cos you tease ’em, Arch,” replied Manny, hammering a fence post into place.
“I don’t!”
“Yeah you do!”
“They want to eat me shorts! Why shouldn’t I try to stop ’em?”
“Let them eat your shorts, then, Arch!” laughed Manny. “Hardly the end of the world, is it?”
“I’m fed up of you, like,” bristled Archie. “You make fun of us all the time.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, Arch,” sniggered Manny. “Here, hold this hammer. I need a big strong lad to help me with this fence, not a stroppy boy standing around.”
“Alright, I’ll do it,” said Archie. “But if those goats come over, you better keep them away from me.”
“The smell of your armpits will do that, Arch,” Manny chuckled, eliciting a high-pitched growl from Archie as he smacked the hammer hard against the next post.
And introducing Elias Baker (age 9) as Jake’s grandnephew.
“Clever lad!” smiled James, ruffling the back of Elias’ golden-brown hair as he carried a trayful of eggs carefully into the kitchen.
“Thanks!” chirped Elias, setting them down on the table. “Do you really think I’m clever?”
“Oh, yeah,” said James. “And I know a smart boy when I see one.”
“I think Luke thought I was clever too, while he was bringing me all the way up here; he kept calling me smart…” Elias grinned, pointed to his bum, and dropped his voice to a whisper, “arse!”
James fell about with laughter; he knocked the table and rattled the eggs.
“Hey, watch it!” complained Elias. “What’s so funny?”
“Smart arse isn’t a compliment, El,” chuckled James. “You shouldn’t say that to people.”
“What does it mean then? What was he calling me?”
“He meant you were cheeky, Elias.”
“Oh,” smiled Elias. “That’s alright then. Cheekiness is a kind of smartness, isn’t it?”
Characters (in order of appearance):
Angelika Wojnowski as little dead girl
Dan Turner as town brewer and booze jockey
Mary Stanley as busty sheriff’s deputy
Rob Clifford as cunty sheriff’s deputy
Tina Gould as bereaved mother
Freya MacKenzie as slick city council chief
Amrit Singh as old doctor
Harvey O’Connor as chief provisioner
Georgia Smith as buildings manager
Saffron Johnstone as marshal
Ruairidh Burns as head carpenter
Harmonie Stephens as Archie’s mother
Bella Stephens as Archie’s little sister
Theo Addo as Manny’s little boy
Tracey Shawcross as Manny’s partner
Scott & Tommy as dream twins
Yellow-toothed man as dream beggar and boy-catcher
Aaron Walker as 12-year-old boy
Adam Wojnowski as bereaved father
Henry as tortoise
Shelley as castle cat
Ryan Henderson as camp boy
Josh Holleran as chicken farmer
Immy Holleran as children’s teacher
Cybi as elderly goat
Nuala as lion cub
Jude as 12-year-old captive
Mike as 9-year-old captive
Harry as 8-year-old captive
Anonymous teen as brick-throwing teen
Marcus Gould as Angelika’s uncle
Luke Sbraglia as Cockney boy-hawker
Sarah Holleran as chicken farmer
In loving memory of Jacob Daniel Baker, 1990-2050
He was born in the world not just strongly attracted to beauty but, almost, hopelessly impaled on it.