Vol.5, Ch.5, P.13
A friend. That’s all I ever wanted, really.
Me fam’ly, we’re a grand name in these parts. “Wheeling-an’-dealing’s” what we do. An’ I hear we’re proper good at it, too. The very best, maybe. Though, I don’t know how. Or why. All I really know is: I’m s’posed to take over someday. Be the man o’ the house an’ that sort o’ thing. Maybe that’s why me dad’s kept me ’way from all the other bairnses. “Bad influence”; “devils on the shoulders” he thinks o’ them, like as not.
That’s no bother to me, though. I still wants me a chum, nonetheless. An’ I’ve been wanting one, ever since I can remember.
It’s awful empty in me room. Only the tutor ever really comes ’round to visit. An’ so I’m oft stuck sitting an’ staring out the windows. Can sometimes spot the neighbouring bairnses from here. They don’t look all too spick, if I’m honest. “Raggedy rascals” me tutor always calls ’em. Still, they smiles bright whene’er I sees ’em. Down there, all laughing an’ running ’bout. Must be a proper blast, having someone to play with. An’ be with, really.
But, I’m diff’rent from ’em. Up here, I’m all alone. Always alone.
Although, there’s been someone at the mansion lately. Another boy me age. “Timo” he’s called.
I’m still too li’l, so I study rather than work. But Timo—all he ever does is work. An’ not for coin, as I’ve heard. Maybe he’s a prentice or a servant or summat, I thought. But that’s not it. He’s a slave. A bairn like me, only stuck doing hard an’ dirty work. All day, an’ most all night, really.
As for why, well… I don’t really know why. Can’t well understand it either, to be honest. But if I have to guess, it’s because he’s diff’rent from the rest o’ us. Well, he looks a trifle diff’rent, that much is sure. His skin, it’s just a mite brown-like, see. Like tea or the leaves in the fall. Other than that… hmm, there’s scant else diff’rent ’bout him, really, from what I can see. But as me dad keeps telling me, he’s diff’rent from us. From all o’ us. A “Nafíl”, as me tutor puts it.
Aye, that’s right. A “race o’ wretches”. A “folk foul-begotten”. “Evil incarnate”. That’s what he keeps harping on ’bout during me lessons. Although to tell the truth, I never really liked me tutor too much, an’ so all his words ever sounded to me was a big bunch o’ rubbish. I rather like the Scripture studies an’ stories he teaches, that’s sure. But whene’er it comes to Nafílses, to having to hate all o’ another race, it never quite “clicks” in me pate, if that’s the word.
Well, to hell with it, I thought. I’ll just meet Timo. Greet him an’ all that. See what sort o’ kid he is. We’re the same age. Maybe we can get on with each other? Me dad, he’s told me sternly to stay ’way from Timo, that he’s a li’l devil an’ isn’t to be trusted. But I can’t very well tell that for meself, can I? If I never even get to speak to him?
An’ so later today, I decide to do it. I search ’round an’ find Timo outside the back o’ the storehouse, where the wainses are all stopped. He’s awful sweaty, moving in bits an’ bobs big an’ heavy, as usual for him this time o’ day. From what I gather, it’s always the worst rubbish that he’s stuck carrying. Kegs o’ serpentine, sacks o’ cack—all the sorts the other servantses ne’er want to touch. Or smell.
An’ there he is: Timo. Maybe ’round ten years o’ age. Just like me.
I come up to him an’ say, “What-ho, there. Good eve.”
“…Eh?”
“Haven’t chatted ’fore, have we?”
“Ah, er…”
But then, a bang. Big an’ loud. It leaves me all dazed-like. An’ then, I feel me cheek swelling up. An’ before I knew it, there’s me dad, standing right aface me.
“What have I said ’bout staying ’way!? Hm!? The very touch o’ this—this thing—it taints! Is that what you want, huh!? Is it!?”
He scolds me on an’ on. An’ all I can do is wince an’ hold me cheek. It hurts awful. But Timo over there, he’s really scared, too, methinks, an’ soon he starts apologising to me dad for some reason.
“No, it’s… it’s my fau—”
“Quiet, you!”
I hear another bang. But this time, it’s louder. Me dad—he’s biffed Timo across the face. A great deal harder than he did me.
I don’t get it. Timo hasn’t done ’nything wrong, has he? An’ me, all I’ve done is speak to him. Isn’t that it? But then he’s ended up having to say sorry an’ getting a black-eye for it. Why…?
An’ what’s all this ’bout “taint”? I don’t understand. I don’t. Me cheek; it stings an’ is all puffed up. But somewhere inside me, I feel something else hurting even more.
♰
It’s been some days now. An’ I’ve decided to slink ’way ’fore me tutor comes in. That’s right: I’m going to slack off today. For the very first time in me life, actually. I’m not feeling much like swimming in the books ’gain. Can scarce stand being in the house, even. That heavy, gloomy feeling in me hasn’t gone ’way.
But now that I’m out an’ ’bout, I haven’t the foggiest where to go. An’ so I faff ’round for a while. In the hills, the shrub’ry. Li’l places an’ pocketses I fancied oft ’bout. An’ ’fore long, I end up in the woods. It’s a great, big, green place, just b’hind the mansion. An’ after a bit o’ wand’ring, the trees clear up asudden, an’ I come ’pon the side o’ a lake an’ sit meself down. It’s clear skies today. Bright an’ blue. The lake’s asparkle. An’ so I’m sat there, staring an’ staring ’way at it. Not really thinking. Not really dreaming, either. Just sitting an’ stewing ’way like soup.
“Wha…”
An’ then, I spots it: there, summat queer in the water. It’s moving, crawling. Sideways, even. A… a crab, maybe? Must be. It has got big nippers, an’ sticks for eyes, just like in the books. But what’s it doing out here in a lake? Never read ’bout ’em living in lakes. Maybe it’s ’way from home? Like me?
But I don’t dwell much on that. This crab, see, it’s the first critter I’ve seen out in the wild. The first I’ve seen proper up close. All the other bairnses, they’ve done a bunch o’ bug-hunting an’ what not ’ready, methinks, an’ that’s always left me feeling awful jealous. That’s why spotting this critter has got me proper chuffed.
“Crab! Crabby crab…!”
An’ so I step to it. Into the water. Splishy-splash. Forget bugs an’ beetles, or drowning for that matter. I’m hunting crabses!
Well, it were a bit daft o’ me, maybe. Some other bairn who gets to play ev’ryday, I bet he’d think better than to do summat hairy like this. But I can’t help meself. All I want in the world right now is to have in me hands the first, proper wild thing I’ve ever seen.
But then, I lose me feet an’ fall into the water. This lake, it’s deeper than I thought. A lot deeper. More than I ever imagined.
“Uwoh… Aabfhh!?”
Water. Water an’ bubbles. It’s all I see. I don’t know what to do. Me body, it starts moving on its own. Arms an’ legs, all wild an’ frantic-like. An’ then, I become confused. Front, back, up, down; which way is which, I can’t well tell ’nymore.
“Hrrh…! Bwakh…!”
I… I can’t breathe. What’s going to happen to me? I’ve never been in peril like this ’fore. Nothing was ever this dangerous in the house. An’ that’s when it hit me: for the first time ever, I’m in grave danger.
“Kkhrofh…! Fbbrrh…!”
I reach an’ grab ev’rywhere I can, but no matter what, I can’t find the surface. I can’t escape. The water, it feels like it stretches on an’ on forever on all sides. Me chest hurts. I try to breathe, but I just end up gulping water. This is it, methinks. I’m done for.
An’ then…
…an’ then, summat catches me.
Arms. I feel them. Arms, pulling me ’way.
Arms, lanky an’ bairn-like as mine.
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