ANDY’S VOW
By J.W.B. Laing
He leaned on his walking stick a little more...his arthritis was acting up due to the change in climate and the late afternoon chill in the Scottish September air...a hint of the weather that was soon to come. Once again, he read the inscription on the gravestone through his old gray watery eyes. He had to squint to read the words clearly, due to the highly polished, pink granite stone that sparkled a little too brightly in the late afternoon sunlight.
As he read the name, a wave of depression came over him. He knew he shouldn't have come back; there were too many people in the cemetery he once knew from his past in the village. Now, all that was left of them were their names engraved on granite…the grocer, butcher, shoemaker, teachers and many classmates. He'd been away far too long and he'd known he'd feel this way when he returned.
He stood there, shifting his weight on his stick…remembering. He looked up at the pinkish sky with its tinted puff clouds, as if in a trance, his thoughts drifting back to the halcyon days of what seemed like only yesterday. In his mind, he could hear he voices and see the scene that he could never forget…………….
"Take his trousers down," Hazel giggled. The four young, laughing teens, holding down the sobbing youngster, undid his belt, pulled down his trousers and underpants, exposing his privates to all, Hazel, Heather, Liz, Maggie, Jock, Willie, Dennis and Raymond. The more he struggled and sobbed in anger, the more they laughed and giggled.
Jock took a thin twig from the ground and used it to move the struggling and furious boy's penis. "That's a wee dick," he laughed, moving the object of his attention around so the girls could get a better look.
"That's not a dick, Jock, dicks are much bigger than that," giggled Hazel, enjoying young Andy’s embarrassment and suffering.
"You're right Hazel, that's just a wee wee," laughed Willie, "You should know, you've seen lots of them."
"Piss off Willie...you just wish it was yours I'd seen. Maybe we should have a wee look at yours," retorted Hazel.
"Just try and I'll flatten you, or anyone else who tries," responded Willie. He was the largest of the young lads and known for his willingness to fight at the drop of a hat... and, he didn't care too much about which gender he fought. With Willie, you always knew where you stood...well back...nobody messed with big Willie.
They released their hold on Andy who jumped to his feet, pulling up his undewear and trousers, burning with shame and embarrassment.
"Come on Andy...we're just havin' a bit of fun with you," said Willie.
"You're all bastards, one day I'll piss on your graves, just wait and see," choked Andy. He was a tow-headed lightweight and too skinny to do anything, yet he still persisted on hanging around with them as long as Heather was there. He was not very popular at school, had no real friends as he had no interest in sports like the others and preferred to read and study; he wasn’t even good looking which hindered him from having a girlfriend of his own. He was just considered a studious outsider.
"Aye Andy, we'll all be there to see it happen," said Heather, laughing with the rest of them, tossing her head back and letting her long blonde hair wrap itself around her angel face, like a soft golden mantel that gleamed in the afternoon sun.
They were at the edge of the golf course where it met the castle woods, on a little island located in the middle of a clear, shallow stream that slowly trickled from the dark woods of oak and elm trees. To get to and from the island, they had to precariously cross a plank bridge which was merely some boards they’d found in the woods and laid upon small rocks; if they’d fallen off, the worst that would happen would be wet feet and backsides. It was one of their favorite places to fool around and kill time.
"Hey, you guys, let's go to the old cottage," said Dennis, turning to leave, hoping the rest would follow.
They all trooped across the boards and sauntered through the woods, with Andy tagging along as usual, as they slowly made their way to the cottage
Heather stopped at a low branch of an ancient oak tree. She grabbed the branch intending to swing around it, upside down. She looked at Andy, who was standing near her, and said, "If you touch me, I'll scratch your bloody eyes out." Andy said nothing. He hung his head and sat himself on the grass as the others laughed.
"Let him at least have a feel, Heather," said Jock with a big grin.
"Fuck off, Jock," said Heather as she swung herself around the branch, her skirt falling over her head, exposing her short, white under pants. Andy wanted to die. He craved for her. She was the only reason he hung around with them. None of the others were paying any attention to her as Dennis was telling them a joke.
When Heather was through with her gymnastics, she joined the rest and they continued on. They'd already forgotten the incident of Andy's exposure, which was their way. If you made a fuss about something like that, you'd never be accepted by the group who always seemed to stick together…even at school.
Andy knew that once you'd been embarrassed by the group, they'd never do it again. He was beginning to feel a bit better about the whole affair.
It had taken Andy a long time to be accepted by them. He'd hung around them at first for the sake of being in the company of Heather, taking their insults and not being invited to join them on their walks, birthday parties and other pastimes. It hurt him with a pain of frustration that seemed to permanently live within him and chew up his insides, as he was totally infatuated with Heather who considered him as nothing more than a mere presence and the brunt of their jokes.
She'd made that pretty clear one day at school, between classes. She was being teased by some of the class about her being ‘Andy's girlfriend,’ their knowing how he felt about her. She'd exploded, shouting out loud in anger, "He is not my boyfriend...I hate him...I hate him." She was bent over in anger, her face pinched with rage. She knew Andy was standing there, watching and listening, but she didn't care. He felt numb, and totally devastated at her outburst.
As usual, he'd said nothing, just carried on to the classroom across the schoolyard. Never before had he been told he was hated; he felt a stabbing pain in his stomach.
It was after school that same day, when the girls came to him and Heather said she was sorry for saying those cruel words about him and treating him so badly. They said that he could walk home with them, since his house was on the same road as theirs. He was filled with joy. He wondered what had made Heather apologize to him for her vitriolic words.
From that day, on he was allowed to hang out with them…as long as he didn’t get too close. He knew he should quit being with them, but his infatuation with Heather was too great. Heather compounded the situation by flaunting herself with Dennis. Everyone knew that Heather was Dennis's girlfriend…had been for a long time, and also knew that they were getting ‘it on’, which caused Andy many sleepless nights of frustration as he fantasized being with Heather and holding her in his arms. When he saw them holding hands and kissing, he had to turn away, he just couldn't stand to see it.
Andy knew full well what was going to happen at the old deserted cottage. He'd been through this before with them.
They arrived at the cottage and entered. Andy sat in the doorless entry on the step as usual, starting to flush and burn with envy. The cottage had four small rooms with dirty, broken windows. On the floor of each room was a mattress upon which they’d drape their jackets. No one else ever used the cottage.
Andy waited, and about ten minutes later he could hear them panting and moaning. As usual, it was more than he could take. He got up and walked a little distance to where he couldn't hear them and sat at the foot of an old gnarled oak tree in front of a long neglected garden that hadn’t seen a spade or rake in at least fifty years.
About thirty minutes later, they reappeared in the doorway, straightening their clothes, Heather combing her messed up, long, blonde hair. It took all his strength to stop from running over to her and dragging her inside…he knew he'd be beaten to a pulp. When he got home that evening, he went straight to his room and cried his eyes out, punching his pillow in sheer frustration and anger...anger at himself for being in such a predicament that he couldn't force himself to get out of. That night he vowed he'd get even with them. He knew he had the determination to fulfill this vow. Some day he'd be rich and come back to see them and he'd tell them to their faces what he thought of them, and have some beautiful young woman on his arm. They'd regret their treatment of him and he’d just laugh at them and walk away. His imagination running wild, he felt better as he pictured the scene.
…………………………….
When he graduated from university, he left the country to start a life in Australia where he quickly prospered in real estate and the stock market. Somehow, he never found the time to go back to Scotland. He was always too busy making money with which he became obsessed, and living happily with his complacent and his devoted wife Gwen, lawyer who happened to be a tall, beautiful, blue eyed blonde with soft features just like Heather whom he could never get out of his mind. Sometimes he would become quite moody and with time, Gwen would always leave him alone to sort out what was bothering him. Every year, he promised he would return to his homeland with his gorgeous wife beside him as he met his old school chums. But, always at the last minute, his ever-expanding real estate business demanded his personal attention. "Next year for sure." He would tell Gwen, but each year something else would crop up that kept him from getting back home.
When she died, he was shattered, sold his firm for a fortune and became a recluse. His wife of fifty years had been everything, his friend, lover and faithful companion. Now, he felt empty. They had no children, so he found himself alone in the world.
The time finally arrived, after a dream about his homeland, when he decided to go back to the land of his birth; he had nothing to keep him there now.
The memories of his childhood came flooding back. He knew he'd have to visit the place where he grew up and had never seen since he'd left sixty years earlier.
The sun had all but gone and he felt chilled. His old gray eyes were watering and his back was sore from standing so long. His old school companions were gone now, and lay buried, here in the cold ground of the cemetery at the edge of the village.
Andy figured it was time. He looked around…he was alone…not a soul in sight. He walked to each of the headstones of Hazel, Willie, Maggie, Raymond, Liz, Jock and Dennis. Unzipping his fly, he urinated on the graves of each of them. He’d drank lots of fluid at the hotel before visiting the cemetery, but still had trouble holding back enough in his bladder for each of them due the chill in the air.
When he reached Heather's grave, which was the one at which he'd stood and reminisced, he paused, and looked again in the failing light and read her name once more, "Heather MacDonald nee Anderson." He felt tears of sadness well up in his old eyes, and a yearning for days that were long gone. Pulling up his zipper, he patted the stone with his age spotted and wrinkled hand with its long slender fingers, and whispered, "You were, and always will be, my first true love, Heather. Rest in peace me darlin'. I'll not be spoiling my memory of you."
He suddenly shivvered…then he knew. They were all there to see him keep his vow of so long ago.
With a smile and a feeling of contentment of fulfilling his mission, he left the cemetery and slowly walked toward the village. He'd fulfilled his vow of that day on the little island, so long ago.
END
1999 JWB LAING.