Short Story

Here is the story I've written for my Culture assignment. Hope you guys like it. It's long but I know you'll suffer through it because it's me. I have an exam tomorrow so I've been absent from the blog scene. I know you'll understand. The Circle of Life by Scratchie 2005 02 22 Billy turned down the long avenue that led to his house, just near the other corner of the road. He had passed this way many times before and although there were other more scenic ways to get home, he preferred to use this route as it took him past the church to which he had recently been appointed pastor. At sixty years old, he was not as agile as he once was but he was still tall in stature and by no means feeble. The years had taken their toll on him but he was a survivor and always had been. As he passed by the church, he stopped to look in. The doors needed to be fixed, several windows were broken and the yard needed to be bushed out but “Time will take care of all things”, he had told the congregation last Sunday. As he stood outside the church, his mood changed from happy and carefree to a more reflective, almost sad, but at the same time grateful one. As he moved away from the church, a strong voice from across the road shouted, “Hi Pastor. Tell the misses howdy for mi. Good to si yuh man, but careful how yuh walk by yuhself dung dat side. Di bway dem ah still terrorist yuh nuh!” The voice belonged to Miss Daisy. She had lived in the community all her life and had long since grown accustomed to its nuisances. Billy responded with his captivating smile and a wave and moved on. As he walked down the road, he exchanged pleasantries with several other persons who, upon his appointment, had also become his parishioners. As Billy pushed through his gate and made his way up the pathway, he was greeted at the door by Renee, his lovely wife. They had been married for twenty –five years and she had been his companion and soul mate for at least another ten before that. She had stood by him. He called her his salvation and although she could really only partially understand why, she knew her husband had his reasons. She accepted this place that she held in his life. It was a position she knew she would fill for many years to come, God’s willing. As he lay in the dark, a tear slid down his cheek and he remembered the seemingly insignificant exchange with Miss Daisy. Billy closed his eyes and the memories flooded back to him as if they were yesterday. It all started 35 years ago, but in truth it had started a long time before that. Billy had been the leader of a group of boys who called themselves The Untouchables. They all came from the nearby lanes that were a haven for criminal activity, even from way back then. Billy and his crew would emerge from the lanes to prey on the neighbouring community. Guns and knives were the weapons of choice, while their targets were anyone and everyone that happened to be in the wrong place at the ‘right’ time. The gang was infamous for housebreaks, armed robbery and automobile theft. They had been accused of rapes and murders but those were merely stories that had turned into folklore by over-active imaginations. Billy remembered the night he met Renee for the first time. He had seen her before, while he and his boys scouted the community for future pickings but he had not met her. As times grew harder, the gang’s activities became more daring. One night, as he and his boys moved through the community, they came upon a car parked outside a house. A man was standing beside it talking to a young lady. They seemed like an easy target. The rest of the gang stood back as Billy approached the couple, gun in hand. As Billy prepared to commit his crime he had no idea that the series of events that were to follow would change his life forever. As Billy pointed his weapon at the man with a menacing gesture and demanded money and jewellery, in what seemed like a flash, a gun appeared in the man’s hand and a police identification in the other. As a matter of instinct, Billy fired two shots in the man’s direction and turned to run. It was the first time in his life that he had fired the gun and definitely the first time he had faced such resistance from any of his victims. In essence, the hunter had become the hunted. The police officer returned the fire but Billy could not remember hearing the gunshots. He however felt the burning as one of the bullets tore through his shoulder. His friends had long since vanished, leaving him to sort out the problem he was in by himself. As he jumped over fences in a bid to escape, he could feel his shirt being soaked by the hot blood coming from his wound. As he turned the corner and ran through the church gate, his feet just simply would no longer carry him. As he fell in the church yard, he recalled that people screamed and his last memory, as he faded from consciousness, was the face of the young lady who propped his head on her jacket and ran to call for help, despite the promptings from her church brothers and sisters to keep away. Billy awakened in hospital five days later and found himself handcuffed to the bed and under police guard. The next day he was surprised to see the face of someone that had been a part of his dream. It was the same young lady who had gotten him help on that eventful evening. With the permission of the police officer guarding Billy, she introduced herself to him as Renee and offered to pray with him. Billy never spoke or offered any reaction as Renee sat by his bed and read from her Bible. She visited him three more times during his stay in hospital and during those visits he never spoke to her, not even to offer his name. She had asked him once but it was the police officer who told her that his name was Billy. Billy the Kid he called him and chastised her for “wasting her time on street trash who would probably kill her if he got the chance”. The trial was swift and Billy found himself sentenced to prison for a term of ten years. He did not see Renee for several months and had long since forgotten about her visit which he considered a bother since it bore no meaning to him, an illiterate ghetto boy with no future. Who cared what happened to him anyway? It was the way of life. He got caught so now he rots in hell. One Sunday, as he walked along the cold damp hallways of what he now called home, he heard singing coming from a room in the far corner of the prison yard. The voices of fellow inmates were heard as they sang and chatted. Billy was drawn to the music and as he looked in, he was shocked to see Renee and several of her church group leading a prayer meeting for the prisoners. Billy left without joining in but he heard the singing several times after that. He always stood at the door and enjoyed the music but never went in. On one such occasion, Renee came to the door and invited him in. He reluctantly went in and sat at the back. She offered him a song sheet and he took it from her, not wanting her to know that he could not read. He held it in front of him until the end of the meeting. During the meetings, the church brothers and sisters spoke of God in their lives. Billy listened but he could not relate what he heard to his own circumstances. At one meeting he stood holding his song sheet and Renee pulled him aside and asked him if he would like to join the basic school program that her church was involved in at the prison. He looked at her and she smiled and told him that she noticed that on several occasions he had held the song sheet upside down so she knew that he could not read. Over the next 3 years, Billy attended classes and learned to read and write. He never missed a prayer meeting. Renee continued to work with him until she was reassigned to another ministry in her church. On her last visit she brought Billy a gift; his very own Bible. Billy continued to attend the meetings but not as frequently and he read his Bible, probably because of what it represented and not so much for what it said, but he was proud of his gift. At the end of his sentence, Billy was determined to make a difference but more importantly, he was determined not to go back to what had brought him here in the first place. But where would he go? He remembered the interest and care of a young girl who saw the better part of a “misguided” boy. He had long since stopped blaming his situation on his absent father and his lot in life. He attended church that Sunday with the hope of seeing Renee again. His wondering eyes searched every pew throughout the service but she was nowhere to be seen. As he emerged through the doors, a bit disappointed, and stood on the front steps, a sea of faces greeted the stranger. The hand on his shoulder was as warm as the smile on the face of the person he saw as he turned around. Her greeting assured him that he was home. The rest of the memories passed in a blur: the business venture, the wedding, his reception into church, the children, the house. Here he was, almost three decades later, a different man; husband, a father, businessman, and pastor. If life had changed so much for him, it could change for so many others as well. He knew what he had to do. Renee had been his salvation; it was now his turn to follow the call to complete the circle of life.