Ultimate Justice

by Ultimate Justice (epub)

  Jalli was alarmed to see one of the lads talking to her daughter. Why she should feel uncomfortable she didn’t really know – they weren’t drunk and didn’t appear to be on drugs or anything. You couldn’t see them getting violent in the way the thugs had done on their last visit here twenty years before. And besides, they already had a girl in tow. But nevertheless there was something creepy about him. Why had that boy singled out Kakko?

  “Something’s got your attention,” said Jack. It was times like this when his blindness was hardest. He was fully aware of his wife’s unease but had no clue what was causing it. But Jalli understood him and was quick to speak.

  “It’s just some young people talking to Kakko. I don’t know. They’re different from the others – not part of Tod and Kakko’s group. They arrived in a big, flashy, gold coloured open-topped car. Three of them: two boys and a girl. The boy talking to Kakko seems too interested in her. I don’t care for him.”

  “Kakko’s able to look after herself. Besides, nothing untoward could happen here could it? Far too public.”

  “You’re right. But…”

  “I know. We want to protect her, but there is nothing much we can do. She’s eighteen and the last thing she would want is for one of us to go over there unbidden. She knows where we are if she needs us.”

  “They’re moving off now. The game’s getting back under way. I wonder what he was saying to her.” The three lads and the girl walked back up the beach to their towels and sat down. They applied liberal amounts of sun-cream and then the girl lay flat while the boys continued to watch the football.

  They were still there when Kakko and Shaun finished their game and came puffing up towards their parents, passing the trio on the way. The boy called out to Kakko. She stopped and stood speaking to them for a minute, nodded and then ran after her brother to collapse breathless beside Jalli.

  “So what was all that about?” asked Jalli.

  “What? We were just teaching everyone to play football.”

  “I mean the boy you were just talking to. You know what I mean.”

  “Oh him. Nothing. They just fancy themselves a bit.”

  “So what did they want?” asked Jack.

  “They come from that villa over there. That one on the headland. Two brothers and their sister.”

  “That great big place with the red roofs?” asked her mother.

  “Yeah.”

  “So what did they want?” quizzed her father a second time.

  “Oh. They’ve got this big boat – or at least their father has. The big white one in the harbour you can see from the hotel balcony. You can’t see it from here but you can down there where we were playing. And they have invited us on board for a trip tomorrow.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “Oh. I said we didn’t know if we were going to be here tomorrow.”

  “You didn’t say no then?”

  “Of course not. I didn’t know if I wanted to go or not… or if I could… they’re going to the island just over the horizon. He gave me his phone number.”

  “That older one,” said Shaun, “he fancies you.”

  “So what if he does. That’s his lookout. And, anyway, you couldn’t take your eyes of that sister of theirs, could you? Can’t you see she was turning it on a bit strong, standing there in her bikini, like, all sexy?”

  “And you weren’t?”

  “Course not. Sometimes I despair of you Shaun.”

  “Not like your lot won the game though, was it? You’d have done better getting in the mix and passing the ball on.”

  “Like you? But I’m a natural forward. My skill is scoring goals.”

  “Sure, so long as you can get the ball. Anyway we won!”

  “Alright you two, no need to let your competitive natures get too out of hand,” said Jalli. “So what are you going to do about this lad?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you going to ignore him or ring him and tell him you can’t go.”

  “So we won’t be here tomorrow then?”

  “That’s not the point, Kakko.”

  “Wouldn’t it be cool to go on a boat like that, though? Especially as they’re going to have a picnic on the island… and he said anyone could go. Lot’s of people are going. It wasn’t just me and Shaun.”

  “Nah,” said Shaun, “but by ‘anyone’ I don’t think he was reckoning on your old man.”

  “I don’t think he was for one minute,” said Jack.

  “And he was speaking to you, not the group in general,” said Jalli.

  “Oh, Mum!”

  “I suggest you just leave it. No harm done is there?” suggested Jack. Kakko let out a protracted sigh, slumped full length on the sand and buried her face in her towel. She hadn’t intended to go anyway. She didn’t trust this lad any more than her mother did, but she was not going to admit that. It didn’t hurt to be ‘fancied’ by a rich kid after all, so long as you didn’t let it get out of hand.

  ***

  That evening they all put on their smart stuff. Bandi felt a little awkward being smart, Kakko was transformed into a poised young adult, and Shaun looked very classy in a jacket and open-neck shirt. Jalli enjoyed dressing up too.

  “Wow,” said Bandi, “you look cool Mum.”

  “Thank you kind sir!” she said. Jack felt a bit left out and became impatient to ‘explore’ his wife’s impressive outfit as soon as they were alone. As the family admired each other he wished he could have seen his children as they impressed the world with emerging adulthood. Jalli understood this too. She put an arm around her husband’s waist, squeezed him to her and kissed his cheek.

  “OK, you three. You get off and meet your new friends downstairs. Jack and I are meeting Tod and Kakko.” After the door had closed, Jalli took her husband into her arms and kissed him on the lips.

  “Better not get dishevelled,” grunted Jalli.

  “Shucks,” sighed Jack.

  ***

  The party went well. Pero was completely unaware that everything was really for him. There were some great speeches including one from a young woman called Vadma (a recent graduate from the university) who had been one of the first street children to be taken into his care. When she was six she was living on the streets; she and her older sister had nowhere safe to go because their mother had died. Vadma had been looked after by her older sister until she was nine when they where both rescued by the centre. That was thirteen years ago. She had never looked back she said.

  Pero had prepared a magnificent cake for the anniversary couple. To their amazement Kakko and Tod called on Jalli and Jack to cut it because they had not had an opportunity to celebrate their wedding – even though it was twenty years before! The three youngsters from Joh were amazed at just how much of an impression their parents had made so many years before.

  The food was sumptuous. Jalli thought she recognised the chef supervising the spread. It was none other than the young man who had come back to apologise for his drunken behaviour on that infamous night, and whom Mr Pero had accepted to do the washing up. Jalli accosted him.

  “Don’t I recognise you?” she asked.

  “You might,” he replied, “you spoke to me kindly on the morning of the clearing up… after… after I got caught up in that vandalism…”

  “Yeah, I do recognise you! So, you are still working here?”

  “I’m head chef now. Mr Pero sent me to catering college and mentored me through everything. He says he is leaving it to me now to ensure standards don’t drop.”

  “Congratulations! You did all this?”

  “Yes, our team did it. Mr Pero came and checked on us – for the last time he said. He approved.”

  “As well he might. Well done for this… and for what you have achieved.”

  “Thank you,” he coloured. “It is all down to Mr Pero – and you – for accepting me on that morning.”

  “You came back. That took courage. An example to all of us
when we make mistakes.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Then Bandi came up and said, “Great food, chef. Mum do you reckon I would make a good chef one day? It must be a cool job.”

  ***

  The disco boomed and the dancing went on into the small hours. Jack and Jalli departed soon after midnight, leaving their youngsters to it.

  7

  The following day, Papa Pero joined the Smiths at the breakfast table in the hotel breakfast room. The growing light from the window illuminated brass fittings and glass tops; potted plants were tastefully placed around the walls and against the pillars. At the windows hung light, patterned drapes that reached the floor.

  “This is lovely,” observed Jalli. “I like the little touches, like the posy centre pieces on each table.”

  “We (I mean ‘they’!) try to make people feel special,” explained Pero.

  Just then they noticed a little boy gazing through the window. He was dirty and roughly dressed and his appearance was in shocking contrast with the ambiance of the breakfast suite.

  “Ah, my little man!” Pero waved at him and indicated to the attendant who took the child a pile of pastries from behind the bar. The little face glowed with a grateful smile. He raised his grubby hand and zoomed off down the hotel steps clutching his prize.

  “The staff used to chase them away but I said to myself, ‘Pero these children are hungry. The only difference between the people inside and the people outside is that the ones inside can pay.’ So I told them to let the children come to the kitchen door. Then I thought, ‘Why should they come round the back? Let them come to the front like other people.’ But the staff, they refused to allow them to come inside. They are worried they haven’t washed. Pero had to concede they have a point.”

  “Where do they come from?” asked Kakko. “Don’t they have homes to go to? Why are they dirty?”

  “They have no homes. They are dirty because they live on the street where there are no showers.”

  “Children without adults, living wild!” exclaimed Kakko. “Why?”

  “There always have been children living on the street around here,” explained Pero. “I ask myself the same question, where are all these kids coming from? I went to one of the older ones who seemed to look after the others. He told us that most of them had been thrown out of their homes by the adults supposed to look after them. Many had parents who had died and their relatives were too poor to have more children to support. Some had run away from home because their guardians abused them.”

  “Unbelievable!” exclaimed Kakko. “How can anyone abuse a small child?”

  “Those who were abused are the most damaged,” Mr Pero continued, “it is easier for those who have some good memories of their parents. If you’ve been loved at all, there is hope. But if you’ve never been loved – never known love – then you can grow up hating everyone, including yourself. These children needed somewhere to go where people would love them. So I found a warehouse on an industrial estate that was up for sale and bought it.”

  “I bet everyone’s really proud of you for doing this,” said Bandi, the first thing he had said that morning.

  “Maybe some. But it also makes many feel uncomfortable. They think I am telling them they should give their money away too.”

  “And do you?” asked Jalli.

  “No. They know what I believe and… and think I sit in judgement on them. I can see how they feel.”

  “Bet it makes them feel really guilty,” broke in Kakko.

  “In a way. But it isn’t as simple as that. To feel guilty you have to have a conscience and many of them have never been brought up to have one – at least not in regard to poor people. They believe that they are rich because the Creator made them that way, and each of us should be content in our own situation in life. That’s what they believe…

  “But I was not brought up in a rich home. A comfortable one, yes, but not wealthy. And my parents were always sharing things. So for me it is more natural to want to help these children. It is easier for me.”

  “I think you are being very gracious Mr Pero,” said Jalli, “that is just like you. But I think, at the bottom of their hearts, they do know what is right and wrong.”

  “Maybe you are right, but there is so much stuff that has been piled on top, generations of prejudice that smothers a sense of justice in them for these children. Some of them have inherited positions of privilege that go back centuries. They fear change, not just for their own lives, but for the whole of society.”

  “And you are challenging that,” said Jack.

  “I am a subversive influence,” he laughed. “Now, I must get going. We have an outing organised for twenty of the younger ones. There are some free places for helpers. Would you three youngsters like to go along?”

  “Where are they going?” asked Jalli.

  “Oh. They’re only going up the coast a bit. It’s to get them out of town. There’ll be a picnic and some swimming.”

  “Count me in,” said Shaun.

  “Me too,” said Bandi.

  Kakko was a bit disappointed. She had reckoned on persuading her parents to let them go on the boat with the rich kids. But she realised that there was no way she was going to be allowed to go on her own. The thought of going on a picnic with a load of little kids sounded cool, though. “And me,” she said.

  ***

  They all piled into Mr Pero’s van.

  “It’s not far. It’s just behind the harbour,” he explained.

  As they drove the short distance, Pero continued his story. “I didn’t tell anyone what I was planning to do. The warehouse was just surrounded by industrial units and other warehouses. I couldn’t buy ordinary houses or anything because no-one would want a place for street children near them.”

  “Why ever not?” asked Kakko, incensed at the idea that people didn’t want children around.

  “All sorts of reasons, I guess,” answered her father. “These children are survivors. They have to beg, and steal too, no doubt. And they will be dirty and smelly, and half-starved kids without anyone to love them are not cute. I bet they can be pretty revolting at times.”

  “You are right. Some people see them as no better than vermin,” agreed Mr Pero. “They cannot see the potential, nor do they feel any obligation to care for them. They do not believe they have, or should have, any responsibility for them. You see my friends here today, but I have many enemies; and many others think I am mad.”

  Mr Pero turned off the sea-front and away from the big buildings and houses with their trees and pots filled with flowers. In a couple of streets they were alongside the harbour.

  “I’ve always wondered why people try to ignore street children. It doesn’t take much imagination to see that they are going to grow up to pose huge and expensive problems. But if you rescue these children, society will be stronger,” said Jalli.

  “The true strength of a community,” reflected Jack, “can be seen in the way that it looks after its most disadvantaged members. That is the thinking behind my school for blind children.”

  “Basically, it’s about love, isn’t it?” said Bandi. He was thinking hard.

  “Absolutely,” agreed Mr Pero. “If you have love, you have everything. And the more you give love, the more you receive. Take Vadma. I claim her as my daughter and she gives me love as if I were her father. And she is only one. I have the biggest family of anyone in the city. I get love all the time. Last year I fell sick. I thought to myself, ‘Pero stay in your flat until you get better’. But I had to tell people I wasn’t coming into work. Then I had more nursing and tending than I could want…” He rounded a series of warehouses associated with the port. The smell of fish was strong. “But Mr Zookas up in his villa – up there on the headland…”

  “The big house with the red roof?” asked Kakko.

  “That’s the one. He was sick too. His children and their friends took his yacht somewhere to have fun and left him in the
care of paid nurses. Not one of his supposed friends went to see him. When I was better, I thought, ‘Pero, go and visit Zookas. He was sick like you and his family have left him on his own.’ When I was there he said that being sick helps you find your real friends. I was the only person who had gone to see him that hadn’t been paid to. ‘All they want from me is my money,’ he told me, ‘but you, Pero, they want you!’ Ever since then he has given me money for the centre.”

  “A convert,” smiled Jalli. “You are winning!” Kakko thought about the trio she had met the previous day but didn’t say anything.

  “We’re here,” announced Mr Pero.

  The Paradise Centre looked exactly like he had described. It was a warehouse surrounded by other warehouses. A couple of men outside one of them waved as Mr Pero drove his van into the space between the units.

  “They keep an eye out for the children,” he said.

  Inside they were greeted by dozens of excited children. Their house-mother welcomed the guests and introduced them to the children and soon each of the family were engaged in doing something with one or other of the little ones with books and crayons. The house-mother spoke quietly to Mr Pero.

  Mr Pero called his guests together. “Apparently the bus has broken down. The house-mother is about to call off the picnic.”

  “Oh! That’s sad,” said Shaun. “I was quite looking forward to a picnic with these kids.”

  “They’re going to be very disappointed. This was the first outing for weeks. They’ve been looking forward to it for days. This morning they all got up early and got themselves ready and the volunteers have got the picnic ready and everything.”