Port of Errors (3 page)

In the morning young Davy awoke curled up securely in a far corner of the room facing the wall. Taking a look around, a tear formed in the inner corner of his eye.

Joseph, one of the other boys who’d been curiously observing Davy for some time, ripped a piece of cloth from his own sleeve and wiped the tears from Davy’s eyes. Soon, the fear Davy had felt vanished into a quiet, unspoken gratitude. A third boy named Charley sat with Davy and Joseph, mostly for moral support. Charley was the eldest of the three, followed closely in age by Joseph, who was an especially filthy child. Davy was only five.

After a day or two had passed, Davy still wouldn’t leave his bedding – even for the want of food. Eventually, too many days had gone by, the old Irish priest slowly opened the door and walked in. “How’re you doing me lad? What ails your poor soul? It makes me sad to see you so. Please, answer me, child. What ails you so that you don’t have the stomach to eat?” Davy gave no answer. Father Whittaker sat down and talked until Davy was comfortable enough to respond. After several hours the old priest was able to leave satisfied that Davy would be well enough off. Joseph and Charley had been secretly taking food.

The children were never allowed to leave the cathedral grounds until they were entrusted into someone’s care, which realistically might never happen. Over the next four years Charley, Joseph and Davy would become the best of friends.

On their fifth year together at the orphanage, a young boy and his sister were found sitting at the oversized cathedral doors. The young boy never gave his name. He was angry and hurtful. After enough time had passed, he acquired the name “Grim”, due to his open bitterness. His little sister’s name was Elizabeth. The two of them mostly kept to themselves.

One quiet evening Charley, Joseph and Davy, being the mischievous little rascals that they were, ventured into the kitchen to steal a loaf of bread as they had done numerous times before. They’d never been caught in the past and thought little about the consequences. But Grim was a discouraged little brat. He was jealous of Davy and the attention Emily, a petite six-year-old girl, had been giving him. She was a sickly little orphan, as were they all. Her hair always hid her soiled face, but she was as cute as they came.

Grim was so envious of Davy that he ratted to Mistress Riley, the head mistress, about the boys’ sinful thievery. Grim secretly warned Mistress Riley as to when they might steal again, just to have a chance to be alone with Emily once they were caught. Emily had no feelings for Grim, but he didn’t care so long as she could be seen with him and not Davy.

Mistress Riley kept a keen eye on the three boys. She soon caught them red handed and prudently swatted their hands with a large wooden stick. She busted the stick across Davy’s knuckles, breaking his right index finger. Amazingly enough, Joseph sustained the same exact injury. They both cried out in agony and ran to their quarters followed by Charley, who was punished in the same fashion but came away with nothing more than a small bruise.

“There be no grub tonight for the lot of you,” said Mistress Riley, as she forced them into their room, concluding, “You thievin’ little devils.”

She then forcefully shut and locked the door until the rest of the children could finish their supper. Witnessing the entire ordeal, Emily ran to her quarters and cried into her bedding, unwilling to eat until her friends were released.

Grim approached her as she lay alone. “Why are you crying?”

Emily sat up with tears swelling in her eyes. “You did this to them. I know you did. You told Ms. Riley, didn’t you?”

“They deserved it,” he replied, smiling with satisfaction.

Grim’s sister, Elizabeth, meandered innocently in. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” snapped Grim, glaring back at Emily. He slammed the door on his way out shouting, “nothing!”

As Davy lay weeping under his covers, Joseph took the rag that he kept in his pants pocket and wiped away the tears from Davy’s eyes. It was the same cloth that Joseph had used to wipe away Davy’s tears the night his father left him, almost five years ago.

The next morning was Sunday. Father Whittaker took a good look at the boys’ busted fingers. He bandaged them with some old rags, using small wooden sticks as splints. Their fingers never did properly heal.

As soon as Father Whittaker left their quarters, Davy approached Grim, who had a big smirk on his face. Without saying a word Davy slugged him in the jaw with his injured fist. “Don’t you ever do that again. I’m not afraid of anyone, least of all you. And if you ever chance to hurt me or my friends again, not even Mistress Riley could stop me from walloping you good!”

As Davy stood dominantly over Grim, Elizabeth wept for her big brother, the only family she had left. Upset and angry, she clinched her fists, biting down on her lip in silent rage. She truly detested Davy.

Davy promptly departed the room, wandering down the hall and out of sight, doubling over in agony as he held his fist tight to his belly. Placing his mouth to his arm, he muffled his cry, yelling out in pain and tearing slightly.

Later that night, Mistress Riley brought the boys a small piece of bread and a cup of water to share between the three of them. “It’ll do you good to confess the evils of your thievery,” she strongly advised. “You’re sure to be damned. Mark my words. Only Purgatory awaits such sinners unless they confess.”

Charley took Mistress Riley’s hasty words to heart and went to Father Whittaker to confess for fear of Hellfire. Following a lengthy confession and meaningful discussion, Charley did feel better, but Father Whittaker could sense he may be ready for a more lasting commitment.

“Will you accept the Good Lord into your life, me son?” asked the father.

“If I do, can I go to heaven, Father?”

Father Whittaker laughed, “Of course you may, me lad.”

“There’s more to lose if I don’t, right?”

“Ah, to be sure. ‘Tis true.”

“Done,” said Charley, stretching out his hand to seal the deal. Father Whittaker simply placed his hand in Charley’s. When he let go, Charley found that the Father had placed a piece of jewelry with in the palm of his hand. It was a small silver cross, which hung from a frayed old string.

“That there symbol tells me and the good Lord above that you’ll live the rest o’ yur days in a manner befitting a saved soul. Wear it at all times and let it be a reminder to you all yur days.”

Charley’s eyes lit up. “Wow! – My very own symbol from God! Thank you! Thank you very much Father!” He then ran to tell Davy and Joseph everything that Father Whittaker had told him. Both Davy and Joseph expressed how proud of him they were. From that day forward Charley was never seen without his beloved cross.

Father Whittaker taught many of the children how to read and study the Holy Bible. Most of the children grew in faith. Davy did believe, but eventually became skeptical. He was satisfied only with things he could see and feel. Joseph became further converted to Father’s Anglican Faith. The priest’s faith was peculiar considering his Irish Catholic heritage.

Emily was also a girl of strong faith. It was amazing that she took to Davy the way she did, considering his lack of any faith. As time passed, Emily and Davy were seen together more oft than not. Emily soon joined Charley, Joseph and Davy in their boyish games.

Joseph caught Davy and Emily holding hands a time or two but didn’t speak a word of it. Within their eyes could be seen the pure and innocent love they felt toward one another. Grim only grew more jealous and envious of their relationship.

In the following months, Charley became stricken with a sudden illness, forcing him bedridden. After a few months he could no longer stand on his own. He asked Joseph and Davy to read a portion of scripture to him nightly. Joseph would often elaborate on the readings, while Davy read only out of respect.

One morning as Davy was reading, Charley had a visit from the town doctor. Davy was asked to step aside, without bothering to excuse him from the room. Davy stood and watched as the doctor bled him to rid his body of the ills. Over the next few hours, Davy watched as Charley began to slip from life.

Amazingly, Charley lived, but was weak and frail. The following few weeks, Charley was able to recuperate. But as soon as Charley was strong enough, the doctor returned. Davy was once again in the room, as was joseph. They observed as a searing hot iron was brought up.

“I must burn out the evils that inflict your body,” explained the doctor. The terror could be read within Charley’s devastated eyes, as he placed his hand over the silver cross Father Whittaker had lovingly given to him. Gripping it tight, his breath became a whimpering moan, almost rhythmically pulsating to the beat of his pounding heart. “Don’t be afraid, lad.” The doctor held the iron above Charley for only a second before pressing it down upon his bare chest. A horrific scream was heard throughout the halls of the cathedral. The doctor repeated the procedure two more times before Charley fainted from the excruciating pain.

Following this session, Father Whittaker conversed with the doctor. “Is the boy curable?”

“It’s hard to say,” he replied.

“How much more of this can the boy take?”

“Not much more I’m afraid.”

“Then let him be. He’s had enough.”

“But, without the proper attention, he…”

“Whatever happens,” interjected Father, “Charley is now in the Lord’s keep.”

Outraged, the doctor wiped his hands of any guilt or responsibility. “It’ll be on your head, Father. Good day!” The doctor stormed out without another word.

Even at this discontented time Charley seemed happy. Over the next few days, his breath became noticeably weaker. Father Whittaker gathered the children together at Davy’s bedside for Charley’s final hours. Davy’s bitterness grew as Charley’s life faded.

Gripping the bedding tight, Charley continued to sweat profusely. His body tensed as he clinched his teeth, groaning in agony. Finally, in a brief moment of relief, he spoke. “I’ll be waiting for you at the pearly gates. I’ll see you again someday. Don’t worry about me.” Charley took Davy by the hand and held it firm. “I’ll be watching over you from the other side. I promise.” He softly closed his eyes and his grip became nonexistent.

Davy realized that Charley had placed something in his hand. He rolled back his fingers to reveal the cross that Father Whittaker had given to Charley. Davy broke into tears as he placed it around his own neck, though, his bitterness kept feeding on his disbelief, which only continued to grow.

Joseph and Davy continued to be close to one another, considering each other as no less than brothers. As time passed, their memory of Charley found a deeper place within their hearts.

Although constant illness and an occasional lashing from Mistress Riley were the norm, their days were sure to be filled with adventure and excitement. Playing games such as pirates and captains, as they called them, their imaginations grew free and broad. Tattered sheets became bellowing sails and the warped and rotting floor, the mighty sea. They ran about the cathedral grounds attacking one another with makeshift weapons made of wood. Joseph was always the pirate, while Davy was Captain in the kings Royal Navy.

One early October evening, Davy, now twelve and Joseph, thirteen were playing their pirate and captain games as usual. Emily joined them, assuming the role of the distressed lady fair, whom Joseph the villainous pirate had run off with.

Grim and a few of his friends, followed innocently by Elizabeth, his sister, quietly entered the room. Forcefully taking Emily by the arm, Grim shouted in sarcastic intrusion, “I’ll save you, me Lady!” Attempting to stop him, Davy began to wrestle with Grim. Saddened, without understanding, Elizabeth cried out for her brother.

Neither Grim nor Davy was aware that a curious fire had broken out in a corner of the room by an open window. As they continued to scuffle, Joseph pulled Davy away. Grim darted for the exit, but tripped over his own feet and dropped to the ground. He sustained fairly severe burns on both of his hands, as the flames rapidly engulfed the room. Panicking wildly, Grim was frantic to escape the growing fire and knocked Emily to the floor on his way out. Having severely sprained her ankle, Emily couldn’t get up on her own.