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THE VENDETTA THAT PAID ITSELF - Part Two Vengeance
I recovered from my madness. I was seventeen and I was ready to give the world another go. Things were getting good again. I was taller, stronger, and I getting my confidence back. I had got it together and started college in the scenic paradise that was the city of Bath. The women were posh, and to them I was rough enough to be of interest. The dark days of throwing up in the crème bathroom after a day’s drinking and smoking were long past. I didn’t feel like I was better than them, I just knew that there were better things out there than that. I wore sharper clothes and had walked away from the people I knew at school. I didn’t have any contact with Ginger Nuts. He went his way and I went mine.
News and gossip travelled through that town like influenza. I heard that Ginger Nuts had got into trouble. People said he was beat up pretty bad. I didn’t gloat, I had to stop myself from laughing. I never forgot what he did to me that stone drunk night two years ago. Naturally, I wanted to know what had happened to him.
It was 2007, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were hot. British soldiers were in the shit, facing AK 47 wielding Muslims who felt the presence of NATO was unjust. They would spend time at the front, cut loose in Cypress, then come back to the garrison towns of Britain. Some of the battle weary soldiers had lost patience for civilians. They were trained to kill and had killed in the name of their government. When Ginger Nuts came swaggering out on the town legally old enough to buy alcohol, he thought he was a force of nature. He had had sex and he was out looking to bend weaker men to his will and throw his weight around. When I knew him he was a prick. He had obviously become even more of a prick in the two years and a bit that had past. He had sniffed a variety of nose powders. He was connected to a few small time dealers. This emboldened him. He had given a few locals a beating and he thought he was the boss. The people he had beaten had been drunk. He didn’t drink much so they were easy wins. Confidence and bravery are very different concepts. The brave man may or may not have the skills to win, the confident man has learnt how to win. He was coke brave and stupid.
I heard that two soldiers had set upon Ginger Nuts for no reason, beaten him up, and thrown him into a pit dug in the road. Now I found this hard to believe. I knew him and I knew he was a gob-shite. I conjectured that he may have started a fight with a soldier. He may have been high on cheap coke and surrounded by his gang of local hard men. He may have thought he and the boys could take on a soldier or two. I think the men who let him have it may have been battle hardened infantry. Who may have saw him as nothing more than a little boy with a gang of little boys. And I could hear that ginger prick’s thick Wiltshire accent saying,
“Come on then.”
Now the veterans would have laughed at him, and in a second taken him out with a few quick punches. The bit I didn’t understand is why they threw him into the pit. I think it had something to do with drug territory. He may have joined in a territorial fight two on one, or even three on one. He believed cruelty was strength. The men he had around him had no feelings either way, they would never risk themselves for him, for they knew he wouldn’t help them either. They were just like him. Loyal to themselves. The local lesson he taught me, he learned himself. I don’t know what he did or said to anger those soldiers enough to beat him up and throw him into the pit. But I was glad he had got a taste.
I finally caught up with him in the supermarket. He was with his mother getting the weekly shop. His arm was in a sling, his jaw had a wire in it. And he had to eat through a straw. He was missing teeth and there were cuts and scars here and there. He saw me, and I came over to see how he was.
“You’ve been in the wars,” I said.
He looked angry but the fight was gone. His injuries had taken the meanness from him. He was a broken little boy. His mother bagged the shopping. He began to tell me what happened. I listened, but I could barely understand his words, for his injuries were so severe he could barely talk. This was my moment to be the bigger man. I could have been kind to him and put to rest the bad blood. I was too immature for that. I came close to his face and said softly so him mother didn’t hear.
“At least they haven’t ruined your good looks.”
I saw the sting of what I said to him sink into his heart. His face was a mess. I smiled at him and whispered
“you deserved it.”
His eyes welled up. He didn’t cry. I turned my back on him and walked away.
Years later I thought about it again. He didn’t deserve the brutality he received. And yet I still couldn’t shake the small satisfaction that he had got what was coming to him, but not by my hand.
Footnote
Another tale of karma too grotesque to tell, involved a child hood friend from the same town. I thought of him as one of my best friends. When I went to University I invited him over to have a night on campus. He drank all my whisky and tried to rape me. The police dropped the case. Years later I found out he had diabetes and the army, navy, and air force rejected his application on medicals grounds. He was too ill to follow in his father’s footsteps, his dream of working in the military was over before it began. That is justice.
Published 14th Apr 2023
Author's Note
Part two. The cold blooded reality of life.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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15th Apr 2023 2:04pm
Good that karma made him pay the price.
So appalled to know that a childhood friend of yours shattered your trust in such a horrific way. There is no dearth of evil ppl in this world. Good to hear that his dreams couldn't be fulfilled.
Thanks for sharing your awesomely penned snippets from your life story. Keep on writing, dear friend. It's such a great pleasure to read your words n thoughts. 😊
So appalled to know that a childhood friend of yours shattered your trust in such a horrific way. There is no dearth of evil ppl in this world. Good to hear that his dreams couldn't be fulfilled.
Thanks for sharing your awesomely penned snippets from your life story. Keep on writing, dear friend. It's such a great pleasure to read your words n thoughts. 😊
15th Apr 2023 4:38pm
Some times Karma serves people.
Thank you for reading these intense memoirs.
It is a shame that people are awful at times.
Enjoy your Writing too my friend
James
Thank you for reading these intense memoirs.
It is a shame that people are awful at times.
Enjoy your Writing too my friend
James
15th Apr 2023 5:47pm
You're bringing a really vital element to the site with these, the audios are great and the writing is full proportioned in detail, voice, imagery. Really enjoying.
15th Apr 2023 8:13pm
Thank you for reading it and listening.
Thanks for your words of strength.
The past often takes hold and I have been playing with describing people.
Regards
James
Thanks for your words of strength.
The past often takes hold and I have been playing with describing people.
Regards
James
20th Apr 2023 4:07pm
The way you engage with your writing and especially your spoken word, captures something so unique and to me, utterly gripping that I cannot help but read and listen.
There are all sorts that make up the pool of humanity we have around us and exist in. Those elements of horror, hateful vile wickedness are hopefully tempered by those kind hearts that choose to be generous beyond measure and contribute to humanity with that innate goodness. You write with wonderful openness and truth, adding that essence of reality to your personal experiences which not only show the lasting marks left but refect the truth of your own mindset in such an authentic way. This part two was stellar, James.
The way the universe works, is often chock full of karma, indeed.
I am so grateful for your voice and talents being here with us.... It's a pleasure and a true learning tool for me and my own writing.
I hope you are doing well, my lovely friend 🙏🏻
🌹 💙
B
There are all sorts that make up the pool of humanity we have around us and exist in. Those elements of horror, hateful vile wickedness are hopefully tempered by those kind hearts that choose to be generous beyond measure and contribute to humanity with that innate goodness. You write with wonderful openness and truth, adding that essence of reality to your personal experiences which not only show the lasting marks left but refect the truth of your own mindset in such an authentic way. This part two was stellar, James.
The way the universe works, is often chock full of karma, indeed.
I am so grateful for your voice and talents being here with us.... It's a pleasure and a true learning tool for me and my own writing.
I hope you are doing well, my lovely friend 🙏🏻
🌹 💙
B
20th Apr 2023 4:31pm
thank you for reading these long pieces. It means so much to know that you read and listened my friend. Your words of encouragement keep me at the typewriter (laptop).
He wasn't as bad as I portrayed him, he was just uneducated. I was far from angelic. I just got this unshakeable need to pen this memory. Things stick with you. To me, they mean so much. But to others they may seem forgettable.
I felt I had lived a decade in a year.
I have been listening to unabridged novels. That has helped me express myself clearer.
I hope you are well to.
Enjoy your writing my friend
James
He wasn't as bad as I portrayed him, he was just uneducated. I was far from angelic. I just got this unshakeable need to pen this memory. Things stick with you. To me, they mean so much. But to others they may seem forgettable.
I felt I had lived a decade in a year.
I have been listening to unabridged novels. That has helped me express myself clearer.
I hope you are well to.
Enjoy your writing my friend
James
