A Million Tears (46 page)

‘I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,’ replied Callaghan. ‘But this fellow on the floor here attacked this man. He’s David Griffiths’ brother, sir.’

‘Ah, indeed. What happened, Griffiths?’

With difficulty Sion told him. The others added their part and when it came to Whalley’s wielding of the bat the freshmen had a surprise.

‘Bill Whalley knocked him out, sir. He can write down what happened for you,’ said Callaghan.

‘Why can’t he tell me himself ?’ The Dean glared at Whalley who looked uncomfortable, shuffling his feet, still holding on to the bat.

‘Sir,’ Callaghan sounded embarrassed. ‘Bill Whalley . . .’

‘Yes, yes, yes, I know his name. You’ve told me already. What of it?’

Callaghan shrugged helplessly at Whalley who smiled back. ‘Sir, Whalley can’t talk. You were told about his accident before he got here.’

‘Oh yes, of course. How could I have forgotten? Call the deputy’s office and have him deal with this man. Arrange it so his admittance is withdrawn and let the local authorities deal with it all. Yes, they can deal with him,’ he said again. ‘See to it, Callaghan.’ With that he turned and went back into his office.

‘You fellows stay and watch him while I go and get some rope to tie him up with. Do any of you know where the deputy sheriff ’s office is in town?’

One of them admitted he did and was promptly sent to fetch the deputy. Callaghan left to fetch some clothes line from the kitchen scullery.

Callaghan returned only just in time to tie up the prisoner before he groaned and sat up. His hands – tied in front of him – held his head. The man suddenly puked all over the floor. The secretary screamed and the sight and smell turned some of the others green. The Dean rushed out and sent them into the quadrangle with their prisoner.

‘I did?’ he looked at Sion, puzzled. ‘I’ve never seen him before in my life. What is this? I was unpacking my gear and the next thing you got me tied up here.’ He put his hand to his head. ‘And with a big lump too. Did one of you guys hit me?’ he asked plaintively and then noticed the bat in Whalley’s hands. ‘You, you hit me,’ he struggled to his knees but because his legs were tied could get no further.

He pointed at Whalley. ‘The Lord shall damn you for this heresy,’ he said in a ponderous voice, rising to a scream on the last word. ‘I have come here to save Mankind from the follies and you do this? I command you by God the Almighty and His Holy Spirit to undo these ropes so I may then pray for your miserable, misbegotten soul.’

The freshmen looked with open-mouthed astonishment, while the man ranted and raved in the same vein until the deputy sheriff arrived. By this time quite a crowd had gathered and the Dean had been out of his office more than once demanding quiet.

The last Sion saw of the man he was locked in a wagon, still screaming at them, calling down the wrath of God upon their heads.

Later Sion sat in his room, his throat sore, appalled by the extent of the bruising around his neck, feeling lonely and still shaken. He did not know whether to unpack his case or find a buggy and go and find his parents in Columbus. He thought about giving up the University and going to work for his father. He could learn the business and take over in a few years, or even just become Sonny’s assistant . . . The longer he sat there wrapped in his misery the more attractive the prospect became. He did not hear the knock on the door but out of the corner of his eye he saw it opening and was surprised to see Bill Whalley. Bill smiled and gestured with his hand that said clearly, can I come in? With a feeling of relief at no longer being alone, Sion nodded.

‘That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. And I reckon if we’re going to be friends I’d better know because I’ll only wonder,’ Sion smiled at Bill who nodded vigorously.

Bill cleaned the slate with a rag and began writing. Although he told it cryptically the story was as follows:

I was down in El Paso on the Mexican border just over four years ago. On the other side of the border is the town of Ciudad Juarez. I visited there with my parents, brother and sister. Mexico must be the most unhappy land in the world. They have a Dictator named Porfirio Diaz who has made his people virtual slaves. Well, there’s a lot of unrest caused by the peons and some of the middle classes. A man named Francisco Madero is leading them but if you ask me I’d say he’s no better than Diaz. He just wants power and money.

There is a lot of shooting all the time and people are always being killed for one reason and another. The peons shoot them while the Government hangs them. And when I say that I mean they hang whole villages if one man has been found to be on Madero’s side.

‘Women and children as well?’ Sion asked in horror.

Yes, wrote Bill. They are always robbing banks to pay for their revolution. My family and I were in a bank in Juarez when it was robbed. Some army men appeared and started shooting at the robbers. All my family were mistakenly gunned down by both sides as were most of the other customers. I was shot through the neck.

Bill took off his scarf to show Sion the puckered red and white scars either side of his throat.

By a miracle I lived. Even the doctor thought I should have died. For a long time afterwards I wished I had. All my family were gone and I had nobody to turn to. Although I’m not religious, a priest helped me a lot and while I was getting better he taught me quite a lot and taught me how to speak with my hands.

‘How do you mean, speak with your hands?’

Bill put the chalk down and moved his fingers and hands quickly, then wrote – That means you’re a good bloke. Another person who can’t speak or is deaf could possibly understand me, though the hand language isn’t that well known. We copied the idea from the Red Indians I think, though I’m not too sure about that. It meant, after a while, I could talk to Father Mendez. He was a great man. It was he who persuaded me to try for college and to use the money I inherited from my father to get an education. Just before I left he was hanged by the Government troops in Juarez and that was when I came here. I was in Columbus for about three months waiting to learn whether or not they would accept me as a pupil. I’m cynical perhaps but I think my money finally persuaded them. I’ve been told, though, if I’m too much of a nuisance I’ll have to leave.

It had taken nearly an hour for Bill to write the full story and by that time Sion realised his sore throat and the minor incident was nothing by comparison to what had happened to Bill. And he had been thinking of running home to Mam. He felt disgusted with himself and suitably humbled.

He noticed the time and exclaimed: ‘I’m going over to meet Colin Callaghan for a beer. Why don’t you come too? I’m sure he won’t mind.’

Bill nodded, then wrote – Will there be many there, do you think?

‘I shouldn’t think so. Come on, if he objects I’ll leave too. Heck it’s not every day a guy owes his life to someone.’

They found Seymour block without difficulty and a few minutes later Sion knocked on the door behind which they could hear loud voices and laughter. It was opened by a stranger who scowled at the intrusion.

‘Eh, my name is Sion Griffiths and Colin asked me over.’

‘Hey, Colin,’ the man called over his shoulder, keeping his foot to the door, ‘a chap named Griffiths is here. Says you said to come over.’

Sion heard a mumble in the background and the foot was removed. Bill followed Sion into the room. There were about a dozen students lolling about the room, glasses of beer in their hands, all staring at the two newcomers in a most disconcerting way.

‘Eh, Colin,’ said Sion, ‘I brought Whalley. I reckoned after he saved my life like that he deserved a drink. But if you want, we’ll go,’ Sion cleared his throat nervously.

‘Naw, it’s all right. Hey, fellows, this is the man I was telling you about. His first introduction to this, our college, was sure a unique one.’ They laughed and somebody thrust a glass of beer into Sion’s hand. Names were exchanged but Sion did not catch any of them. Sion realised one or two were looking strangely at Bill.

‘Hey, take it easy,’ Colin Callaghan intervened. ‘Nobody meant anything by it. Bill here is going to have to learn to take a lot more cracks than that and if you leap to his defence everytime, well you’re going to be doing a lot of fighting – an awful lot in fact, and all for nothing. Know why?’

Sion shook his head.

‘Cause nobody’ll mean anything by it, that’s why. They’ll only be joking. It’s the only way to treat something like that. You ask Bill here. Right Bill?’

Bill nodded and squeezed Sion’s shoulder.

‘See what I mean?’ Callaghan waved them to sit on the floor. ‘I was telling you fellows what happened this afternoon. Anyway, the maniac was taken away still screaming and hollering something terrible. Isn’t that right?’ Callaghan turned to Sion and Bill and they nodded. ‘And to top it all off, guys, don’t you see the family resemblance between Sion and David Griffiths? They’re brothers.’

‘Well, I’ll be,’ said one of the men on the floor. ‘I’ve been sitting here wondering who he reminded me of. Now you’ve said it, it’s obvious.’ He turned to Sion. ‘Do you play football as well?’

‘Eh, no. That is, I haven’t really learned how to play. Dave told me about it but back where I come from there isn’t much of that in school. But I guess I can always learn.’

‘Sure, you can always learn,’ said one of the men sitting by the desk. ‘You’ve got the build for a fastish runner. I guess we can try you out sometime. What do you say, John?’

‘Don’t forget what I told you, young Griffiths. No letting on you’ve been over here, okay? If you’re caught and they prove you’ve been drinking, then tell them you brought it with you. If you keep quiet then there’s no reason why you don’t come back again.’

Sion nodded, pleased at the honour.

‘I invited you to meet these guys because I figured you might prove to be as good a footballer as Dave. And the sooner we try you and find out, the better. If you do all right it’ll mean plenty of trips away and cutting lectures to practise,’ said Callaghan.

Sion nodded doubtfully. He was not that interested in sport and he did not like the idea of cutting lectures. He was not about to tell the occupants of the room however, that he thought it senseless for grown men to go chasing an odd shaped lump of leather around a bit of grass.

It was getting late when Bill and Sion left to return to their own rooms. Sion had learned that his brother had been a very good player during his time at the university and was surprised David had said so little about it. Or maybe he had and Sion had not appreciated the significance of being on the varsity team.

They had also learned that Bill’s room mate was not due to arrive until the next day so Sion moved his stuff in with Bill.

33

Although he tried hard, Sion never did make it as a footballer. Somehow he could not co-ordinate properly and would drop easy catches or slice his kicks. After a month of trying he finally decided to give up. ‘That’s my last game Bill. I’m not playing any more.’ He looked around to make sure nobody was within hearing distance and mouthed the heresy. ‘I used to think it all pointless, well I no longer think so.’ He smiled at his friend’s puzzled look. ‘Nope, now I know it is,’ and Sion burst out laughing. Bill’s shoulders heaved though he made no sound.

On the whole Sion and Bill attended the same classes although Bill was working towards becoming a doctor whilst Sion still didn’t know what he wanted to do. So far there had been no social scene apart from the occasional beer drinking party but that evening Bill and Sion decided to go into the town. According to Callaghan and the other third year students there was very little to see or do.

Not only had Bill and Sion become good friends now but Sion was also trying to learn Bill’s sign language so that communication would be quicker. When they walked through the main gate they were warned by the gate-keeper to be back before ten o’clock because the gates were locked promptly.

They followed the road into town, about half a mile away. Along the main street were a number of general stores, numerous book shops catering for the university, and a hotchpot of shops. There were a number of bars and hotels. They quickly learned the bars were out of bounds to university students, although they were allowed to eat in the hotels.

Not being hungry and with little else to do they were ready to return to the university when Sion suggested they went up one of the side streets, where they came across a restaurant. They wandered into the dim but pleasant atmosphere to find a small bar and a dozen tables scattered around the room. In a corner three men were eating, the rest of the place was empty.