The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel (11 page)

The first stroke smashed across
Simon's bottom, and the pain seared through him. He winced and
cried out. One of the little first year girls started to cry. Then
Simon saw Daniel at the back, his face impassively rigid as he
watched his friend's agony. Simon tried to meet his eyes, but Miss
Harvey put paid to that.

"Face down boy!"

Simon turned his head down, shut
his eyes and somehow survived the rest of his punishment. As the
sixth and final blow fell, he felt dizzy and nearly toppled
forward, just managing to stop himself. Slowly he stood up, tears
streaming down his face, chest heaving and sobbing, his disgrace
for all the junior school to see.

"Let that be a lesson to you,
Simon Scott. I assure you that you will tire of your disobedience
before I ever tire of trying to reform you. Return to your
class."

Simon walked back to where his
class were waiting, and then with them back to classroom. As they
passed the door to Mr. West's room, he and Miss Day were in
conversation.

"The woman's quite mad, you
know," Mr. West was saying.

"As the proverbial Hatter,"
agreed Miss Day, "and as for reform, what a hope! She should try a
bit of loving sympathy. She's always had it in for that boy."

Simon did not hear Mr. West's
next comment, and he wondered vaguely who they were talking about,
but his preoccupation with his pain and disgrace was not conducive
to sustained thought on the matter. The conversation between the
two teachers did have one effect which was only eventually to
worsen matters for Simon. Whilst they were each venting their
frustration at Miss Harvey's iron rule on each other, Simon arrived
back in his classroom unsupervised, along with the rest of his
class.

Cynthia came up to Simon,
genuine concern on her face.

"Are you alright, Simon?" she
asked.

Simon, touched by the sympathy,
felt a further tear roll down his face.

"Softy!" shouted Barry Spence,
hoping to provoke further distress in Simon, amid more catcalls
from his followers.

Sidney Forth joined in at this
point, swept along on the wave of victimisation of Simon.

"Proves he should never have
been born, just like Miss Day said," yelled Forth to the class. A
roar of approval greeted this announcement, and Forth grinned at
his triumph.

Simon, unable to respond to the
Spence gang, was suddenly overwhelmed by his anger and frustration.
Forth he could respond to, Forth he could attack, and all Simon's
fury was streaming up through his body, filling his consciousness,
his mind aware only of Forth, and oblivious to all other inputs. He
launched himself at Forth, whose idiotic grin of triumph
transformed into alarm as he saw the projectile that was Simon
coming at him, hatred all over his face.

Simon hit Forth with such force
that both boys were carried across the top of Forth's desk,
knocking it over, the lid opening as it toppled, smashing off as it
hit the ground, ink from the inkwell trickling out onto Forth's
strewn books. Simon landed on top of Forth and started hitting him
about the face and head as hard as he could, uncaring of the pain
caused to his own hands. Blood started to ooze from Forth's face as
the boy tried to protect his head from the onslaught as best he
could.

Something in Simon sensed that
he had done enough, but the anger still needed a further outlet. He
turned and saw Forth's books scattered about. His rage returning,
Simon picked up an exercise book and ripped it in two, flinging the
parts in opposite directions, and stamping and trampling as best he
could on the rest of Forth's possessions.

One of the halves of the
exercise book landed at the feet of Miss Day, who, hearing the
commotion, had hurried from her talk with Mr. West to see what was
going on.

"Simon!" she shouted, "what do
you think you are doing?" Then she saw Forth's inert form on the
floor.

"Sidney, are you all right? Let
me look at you," said Miss Day, hurrying over and kneeling by
Forth's side.

"I think so, Miss," said Forth,
sitting, and then slowly standing up.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Miss
Day, as she started to see the mess created by the fracas, "What
has been going on?"

"Miss, he just attacked me,"
said Forth.

"That's right, Miss," said
Spence, and the gang chorused agreement.

"Miss, they were calling Simon
names and things," said Cynthia, and Susan and Pamela chimed in
with similar comments. Suddenly there was commotion again as the
children argued, putting their case.

The silence came quickly,
children stopping in mid sentence, as they became aware of another
presence in the room. Standing in the doorway, like the
personification of evil, was Miss Harvey, still carrying the cane.
She spoke with ominous quietness.

"Just what is going on in here,
may I ask?"

Miss Day started to speak.
"There seems to have been an accident ...."

"Simon Scott attacked Sidney
Forth...", chimed in a voice.

Then there were others.

"..and just kept hitting
him...made him bleed....they called him names, Miss...smashed the
desk...ripped up the books...the others started it...poured ink on
his things..."

"Quiet!" snapped Miss Harvey.
There was quiet. "Simon Scott, are you responsible for this assault
and the damage school property and to Sidney's books?"

Simon remained silent, not
daring to say anything. It was all so unfair, so unjust. How is
that Spence's lot can get away with anything, but I get caught
straight away? She didn't come in when they were being nasty to me,
did she?

"Your silence speaks more than
your feeble lies and excuses ever could, boy," said Miss Harvey.
"As you have just received punishment for disobedience, I shall not
cane you again this morning. Instead, you will come to me at
playtime this afternoon for punishment. Perhaps in the interim, you
might reflect on your future in this school."

Miss Harvey turned and swept out
of the room. Most of the class looked at Simon with awe, and fear
for what he was due to suffer again so soon. Simon saw Spence
looking at him in new way, that Simon could not interpret. Forth
was glaring, indignant at his physical defeat, gloating at the
prospect of his assailant's torture to come.

Miss Day again spoke. "Come on,
now, boys. Pick up the desk. Girls, help Sidney to tidy up his
things. Simon, come here please."

Simon went to Miss Day's desk,
while the rest of the class busied themselves clearing the
debris.

"What happened, Simon?" asked
Miss Day, gently.

He knew that she was being
sympathetic, sensed too that she disagreed with Miss Harvey in some
way, but intuitively knew that she was powerless to help, and the
effort of trying to justify his actions to her would change
nothing, and was not worth the attempt. He shrugged, and remained
silent.

Miss Day knew too that Simon was
somehow aware of her impotence in the matter, and that he was ready
to talk, if he ever would be. Poor boy, he really got dealt a raw
deal in life.

"Go back to your place then
Simon," she said, "and maybe we'll talk later." But she knew that
they would not. There was no way across the abyss to reach that boy
and offer help, even if she knew what help to give. And there was
always Miss Harvey, who would never approve.

Simon went back to his seat,
among the glances of his classmates, who were looking at him in a
new light. Even Barry Spence regarded him with a slightly puzzled
face. But Simon could not quell the anger within him. Somehow the
outburst had failed to satisfy this new need to lash out, his soul
remained unsatiated, the thirst of his frustration unquenched. All
the years of insults, taunts and jibes flowed through his mind,
fuelling the resentment he felt against Spence, Forth, Miss Harvey
and even Miss Day for her inability to help. As the morning's
lessons went on, Simon mechanically went through the motions of
taking out books, putting books away and so on, but his mind was
elsewhere, seething with emotion.

By midday, the desire to escape
had become overwhelming. Fear of the caning to come at afternoon
playtime drove his feelings upward. There was no hope here, no
justice, no protection from persecution. The only way was out.

So Simon took his coat from the
peg and instead of joining the dinner line, walked out into the
yard and through the gate with the children going home for lunch.
Mr. Ashby on the gate made as though to speak to him, but Simon was
simply walking with the rest, and he decided that really he had no
cause to question Simon. After all, the poor kid had probably had
enough, and the last thing he wanted to do was to get him into
further trouble with Miss Harvey.

Once in the street, Simon faced
a decision. Where to go? Automatically, he headed towards home, and
Mummy. But Daddy might be at home, and he would most likely hit
Simon for leaving school. For some time, Simon wandered round the
streets, past the time when he should have returned to school. No
going back now!

1. 1955/10 Truancy and
   Theft
   

Simon found himself at a
bombsite. Some had now been built on, but this one still had piles
of bricks and wood, the remains of someone's home. He wondered if
anybody had been killed. He sat for a while, trying to hide among
the rubble, but there wasn't enough. Some had been removed. He
wandered down to where there were bombed out houses. Some windows
still had dirty glass in them. Simon picked up a half brick from
the rubble and launched it at a window. The resulting smash was
very satisfying and he spent a few minutes throwing stones and
smashing in an orgy of broken glass, venting his frustration in the
destruction until a man shouted at him. He ran off as fast as he
could.

Simon realised that he was
hungry. He wandered further and came to the shopping parade, which
was fairly busy. Unfortunately, Simon didn't have any money. The
newsagent and sweetshop was a natural target for a hungry boy, and
Simon went in. Mr. Cole was serving behind the counter, but there
were racks of sweets and chocolates on display. Lots of shops were
doing that now, so you could choose what you wanted and then take
it to the counter to pay for them, instead of having to queue and
let Mr. Cole get you what you wanted, item by item. A lady was
having some kind of argument with Mr. Cole, and then a man came in
and waited impatiently. As the argument about a paper bill
progressed, the man got more and more cross. At last he
interrupted.

"Could I have a little service
round here, please?" he said abruptly.

"Excuse me," said the lady, "but
I was here first."

"The way you're going on, you'll
be here when the bomb drops, too," replied the man.

"Wait a moment," said Mr. Cole,
"there's no need to go off the deep end."

And suddenly the three of them
were arguing like mad. Acting on instinct, Simon quickly scooped
two Mars Bars and a packet of Refreshers and ran out of the shop
back onto the parade. He broke into a run and turned the corner at
the end. Heart pounding, he kept running, through the quiet
streets, past the allotments. The den! Safety! He ran and lay
panting on the soft grass of the den. The passing years had not
diminished the importance of the den to Simon. It was not quite the
secret place it had once been, because sometimes it was obvious
that other people had been there, but Simon was now realistic
enough to know that this was only to be expected. It did not reduce
the significance it had as the place where he could relax with
Daniel, and feel a whole person, accepted for what he was by the
one person in the world (apart from Mummy) who he felt treated him
with love and care.

Simon lay there elated. Then he
started on a Mars Bar. It had been so easy! Just pick it up and
run. Simon was sure that Mr. Cole didn't know who he was, and would
probably never miss a few sweets from all those others anyway. As
he ate, his hunger seemed to grow, and the second bar went the way
of the first. Wait till Barry Spence finds out what I've done,
thought Simon. That would make him think differently about me. But
the impracticality of telling Spence, even if he were believed,
tarnished that particular daydream.

Simon peered out from the den.
Others may come here, but once in, one was hidden from view, yet
had plenty of warning of anybody coming. Ideal place. There was
nobody around, nobody in the allotments. Spurred on by his success,
Simon climbed from the den and walked down to the allotments. There
were one or two small sheds dotted about, mostly rather old and
broken down. Simon looked in through the dirty windows at bags of
unknown materials, gardening tools, old pairs of gloves and jars of
unknown liquids. Coming upon a shed with an unlocked door (many had
padlocks) Simon went in. There was the usual assortment of
gardening apparatus, and a small bench. Curious, Simon pulled open
the drawer set beneath this. Inside was a book about cabbages or
something, all soiled from being handled, some cutters, but screwed
up beside them was a brown ten shilling note. Ten shillings! Simon
could not remember the last time he had held a ten bob note. He
thought of what that could buy, and stuffed it into his pocket.
Cautiously, he looked round the allotments before quickly leaving
the shed and hurrying back to the den.

His heart thumping, Simon felt
that same feeling of elation that he had felt earlier. Somehow, the
fear itself was exciting, and justified by the success of the
venture. The elation and excitement drove out the emotions of anger
and frustration, and the success drove away the feelings of
inadequacy and helplessness.

After a while, sucking on a
Refresher and holding the ten shilling note in his hand he noticed
some children on the road at the other side of the allotments. It
must be home time. This brought Simon down to earth again. He would
have to go home at some time. What would Mummy say about the sweet
shop and the ten bob note? He knew of course that he could not tell
her. She would not approve and he felt a little ashamed at the
betrayal of trust to come. But if Daddy knew, Simon would be well
beaten. He never needed much excuse to hit Simon, so with an excuse
like stealing (and Simon knew what he had done) the severity of the
beating would be limitless. Simon had had enough beating, and the
thought reminded him of his own soreness. Looking out again,
Simon's heart leapt. Joy of joys! Daniel was walking across the
allotments straight towards the den. Simon watched his friend
approach with pleasure and happiness driving out the anxiety he had
felt as earlier elation and triumph had driven out anger and
fear.