by Graham Adams
After a few hours break Louis would be back at Mr Reynolds shop, picking up two types of evening paper and the ’Green un’, locally called, as it was in the business of reporting the day’s football results. How they got the results printed in such a short time after the end of the matches was nothing short of a miracle! All the hopes and dreams of the majority of the local men folk was pinned on the ‘Green un’. Fortunes were won or lost on the pools betting, each man searching for the drawn matches. Of course no one ever won the jackpot, but that never deterred anyone.
All this effort was to produce pay of the princely sum of ten shillings, always paid as a crisp note. The money itself was not the reason Louis did the rounds, it was what it represented. Ten shillings was equal to the rent that had to be paid for their little dwelling and so handing the note over to his father, and watching his face has he received it, gave Louis the greatest pleasure. Even at such a tender age the son was aware of the sacrifices his father had made for him. This act then, was his way of saying thank you and I love you.
This happy relationship he shared with his father came into sharp perspective when Louis walked his round collecting the payments. The area he covered was not too far from where they lived. Even if their own home was humble, a few streets away he witnessed much worse. Half way down one of his streets there was a number of ‘prefabs’ about twenty in a tight circle formation. After the war many councils were forced to erect small prefabricated houses as a short term solution for the acute housing problem. They were really just square huts that were stifling hot in summer and freezing cold in winter. Some of the tenants had made their homes quite attractive with flowers in the garden and a painted fence in front.
Some of the other tenants, however, were quite the opposite, the little front ‘garden’ was nothing but scrap and rubbish left to rot. Louis often felt a little apprehensive as he approached the dirty, and sometimes open, front door. He could hear the shouting and screaming of children. As he knocked timidly on the door, a scruffy woman would appear, holding a baby and with two or three other urchins hiding behind her skirts, filthy and dressed in rags. On occasions he would ask for the money and she would shake her head, and he would walk away empty handed. There were times when he ticked the entry in the book and paid it himself, not telling Mr Reynolds.
What Louis did not know however, was that Mr Reynolds was aware of what he did. He went round himself to the non payer, get the money out of the man of the house, and then pass that money on to Henry. It was enough to make his father shed a tear, how could a boy like his be so kind, he often thought to himself.
This particular Saturday Louis was trudging on his round early in the morning feeling a bit more tired than usual after his late night. All the time he had on his mind the old woman he had met at the Circus. Early on he couldn’t remember her name, then suddenly it came to him and he shouted out loud
‘Magda, that’s it!’
‘Magda? Who’s that you’re on about my lad?’
One of his customers asked. He must have overheard him as he opened the door to take the Saturday paper.
‘Just thinking out loud’ he answered.
He had made his decision to go and visit the old woman after his collection round in the afternoon, and started it early so that he would have time to get back. He did decide to pop in to Scattergoods and let his dad know where he was going, but so as not to worry him, he planned not to say too much until he had returned from seeing Magda.
Louis had finished adding up his collection takings at the shop, and received his pay, pushing it carefully in his trouser pocket. It was just midday. He was about to enter Scattergood’s shop, then he caught sight of Danny and his sister across the High Street deep in conversation. He was about to shout to them but stopped himself. Louis bit his lip and really felt guilty for a moment, not calling, but he knew that if he had to explain to Danny where he was going, it could make him late. He decided to visit Danny on Sunday and tell him all about his adventure then.
Fortunately the shop was quiet and he caught his dad leaving his counter just about to take his lunch break. Henry noticed that his son was a little agitated so he led him outside in the sunshine, around the corner and they sat together on a bench on the pavement.
‘Well son, what’s on your mind?’
‘It’s about last night at the circus, something happened.’
Louis explained to his dad how he helped an old lady who was hurt by a horse that had gone out of control. The men were chasing the horse and he helped the lady by making a bandage for her leg that was bleeding.
‘Well done son’ Henry said proudly.
‘That’s not it dad I couldn’t stay with her as I went to see the circus, but before I left her in her little house, she made me promise to go and see her today. Is that ok dad?’
Henry looked at his son, and then gave him the biggest hug. ‘I think you should go, if only to see if she is alright. If she offers you a reward, in this case I say you can accept it because of the kind help you gave her. You know what I told you about accepting rewards, I don’t like it but I think that this is a special case. Understand? The boy nodded. ‘Then go with my blessing.’
Louis took a much quicker route to the site of the circus at Victoria Park, avoiding the steep High Street. In less that fifteen minutes the Big Top was in sight, although out of breathe he was relieved to be there with his father’s approval. The memories of the previous night came flooding back as he began to weave around the tightly parked caravans, taking no notice of the garish paintings on them. He had in his mind’s eye the small humble one that the old lady lived in. Having passed the fifth large van, he was aware of music coming from an open window. As he approached, the music compelled him to stop and listen, it was as if he had heard it before, yet it was hypnotic, he couldn’t think straight.
‘What are you doing here boy?’ A deep sonorous voice spoke into his ear.
Expecting to see a big man to match the voice, he automatically looked up and around but there was no one like that. Suddenly he noticed, shorter than himself, a thick-set man standing in front of him, blocking his path. He didn’t look too friendly as Louis stammered.
‘I’m looking for Magda. She wants to see me. Can you show where her caravan is?’
‘Yes, I know Magda, everyone knows Magda, and I’ll take you if you tell me what she wants to see you for.’ The midget, although short, looked very powerful and threatening to Louis, yet he had despite this, regained his composure.
‘I don’t know what she wants, and if I did I wouldn’t tell you anyway’ the boy stuck his chin out in defiance.
‘Oh wouldn’t you now?’
The midget folded his very hairy muscle bound arms across his broad chest, and then the heavy eyebrows lifted and Louis detected a smile under the black curly goatee beard.
‘My name is Ogobi and my fine young man what is yours?’ He still stood across the boy’s path.
‘It’s Louis.’ He answered.
‘Louis eh, is that fourteenth or fifteenth?’ Ogobi asked with a deep roar of laughter. ‘Come, I will take you to Magda, but you heed my warning, be very careful.’
‘Why is that?’ Louis asked him.
Ogobi was already striding away waving his thick arms for the boy to follow him. As it happened, they only had to walk about fifty yards and soon his guide was pointing at Magda’s little door. The squat little man watched intently as Louis knocked on the caravan door, but as soon as it opened, he scuttled away out of sight.
‘Come in, come in my little boy, and sit on that chair. She pointed to the wicker chair. I am happy that you came today, you didn’t tell anyone did you?’ She asked a little threateningly.
The question worried Louis for a moment. He felt that the old woman didn’t want him to say anything to anyone about his visit, but he was glad that he had told his father.
‘No, I didn’t’ he answered.
Magda came up close to him ‘You didn’t? You never told
anyone?’
Louis felt guilty that he had told his father where he was going, but no one else, so he stood his ground.
‘No one, anyway why don’t you want anyone to know?’
Magda lowered her head for a moment then spoke to him in a softer tone. ‘Forgive me dear boy, I meant no harm especially to you, I mean a good boy should always tell his father where he is going, it’s the right thing to do eh?’
She gave him a toothless grin, not a pretty sight. Louis was now less tense and not a little surprised that the old woman knew he was lying, but the air of tension had receded between them.
‘How is your leg, the one I bandaged up yesterday?’ Louis asked. She moved the heavy black frock to one side revealing both shins. ‘Which leg was it? He asked. ‘I can’t see where the cut was, Magda.’
The old woman looked at the perplexed boy and smiled. ‘Never mind about that dear boy, tell me about what you have been doing today.’
Louis recounted his Saturday morning to her, and he spoke about the plight of some of his customers and how he felt sorry for them, especially their children. Then he told her about his best friend Danny, and how he stands by him when sometimes he gets picked on because of his disability. Magda urged him to say more about himself, and somehow it felt very easy to tell her.
‘I never knew my mother. Dad told me that she died giving birth to me. I think she came from France. I love my father and he loves me. We never argue and he never tells me off.’
Magda raised her bony hand to Louis and he stopped talking. ‘Now my little Louis, I want you to listen carefully to my words. ‘Do you have anything that you treasure in that pocket there?’ She pointed to the shorter of his legs.
He rummaged in his pocket. ‘I only have this. I do treasure it as I was paid this by Mr Reynolds today.’
He pulled out the crisp ten shilling note. She held out her bony hand for the note, and Louis passed it to her without hesitation.
She neatly folded the note into a small square and pressed her bony hands together in a prayer-like fashion as the boy watched intently. He noticed two things happen as she pressed her hands. The first was that the old woman’s stature somehow got larger. He blinked his eyes in disbelief. Secondly he noticed that on her right hand, on one of her fingers there was a silver ring. Not an ordinary ring though. It was easy for Louis to make out the shape, two snakes formed into a double ‘S’ shape, each with a tail and a distinctive head. He leaned forward for a better view; each head had two red eyes that seemed to be getting brighter, and then suddenly went dark.
The old woman passed the note back to Louis and he opened it up to check that the precious note was as it had been.
‘Put it back into the same pocket, boy, right now!’ The old woman demanded.
He jumped up and pushed it in his pocket, and sat down again on the wicker chair. Magda sat down on the other chair looking quite exhausted.
Louis began to feel a heat travelling up his leg. It was not a searing heat, nor did it make him alarmed at all. The soft warmth reached his hip area and he suddenly felt the urge to stand up, watched all the time by the old woman. As he stood up he felt and heard a sharp ‘click’ in his hip area. The heat sensation had gone but he just stood there in the caravan not knowing what had happened to him. The old woman shuffled up to Louis and whispered in his ear.
‘Now boy, walk around the room and keep walking until I say stop.’
He did just as he was told, initially not noticing anything, but then everything felt different. He wasn’t sure what had happened. She said stop and he just stood in the middle of the little van, feeling his hip but not speaking. He looked at the old woman who looked back at him intently.
‘Yes my boy, you are cured, no more limping for you. Now sit a while whilst I tell you a story.’ He sat on the chair, looking at her like an obedient puppy dog.
‘Where I come from, yes, we all help each other, but there is always a reward for that help is expected. When you saw my need after the trouble with that horse, you came to my help and asked for no reward. In fact you thought nothing of it, you walked away not even asking for my thanks. I know something about you my dear Louis, you were not taught to do this, it has to be born in you, and this is a very rare thing. As you grow to a man, many years from now, you will find that most people are driven by selfishness. Listen to my advice, do not change your ways no matter what the future holds. I tell you this, help your fellow man, ask for no reward and I promise you will be rewarded tenfold.’ She put her bony hand on his little shoulder.
‘Do not worry about what people will say about you, now that you no longer limp. Maybe just two people will ask you about it that is all.’
‘I think I know who they are Magda.’ Louis found his voice.
‘To those who will ask, the answer you will give them is this; it went away on its own as I grew up. Will you say that to them?’ She asked and he nodded and smiled at her.
‘Will it be our secret?’ he asked.
‘You must never tell anyone, not even your dear father. Do you understand my boy?’
Louis thought for a moment that no one would believe him if he did. So he acceded. He was about to leave, sensing that the audience was over, but she stopped him with her hand.
‘I have another present for you, it may not seem much.’
She held out her hand to him and he looked down to see it. A small brown envelope was nestled in her bony palm. It was no more than an inch square, made of brown parchment, with what looked like two words written in a strange language. He took the envelope, turned it over and saw that it was sealed. Magda explained to him that the writing was in the language of the ancient Greeks- ‘γνῶθι σεαυτόν’.
She also told him that inside the little envelope were some tiny seeds. ‘Keep them inside and do not take them out. I tell you this because in the bag they are powerful, but to let them out they will just be seeds and will forever lose their power’. Finally she told him that he will always know where it was, as the power will remind him wherever he went. She also told him that it would be alright to give it to another person, if he wished to. Good fortune would follow this person as long as the seeds remained in the envelope
He pushed the little envelope into his other pocket, put his arm around his benefactor and kissed her bony cheek. Closing the little door behind him he walked towards the way out. Walking not limping, he felt the power in his legs as he left the park and didn’t look back. He did wonder though if he would ever see the old woman again, Magda, who had changed his life forever.
The young boy certainly felt strange as he made his way back to the centre of town. Such a seismic change had happened to his body, at such a tender age too, it was just too big for him to take in. Limping for twelve years, and now he could walk just as good as the next boy. How could this happen? What would people say? What would his father say? Why did it have to be a secret? There were so many questions in his head.
By the time he was outside Scattergoods, he had decided to march right into the shop, just to let his dad know that he was back safe and sound. Louis headed for his father’s counter. but Henry was busy serving a customer, showing him cloth from a large book of samples. As the customer was looking at the book, Henry looked up at his son and gave him that ‘sorry I’m busy’ smile. Louis knew this was not the time, so he waved to him and walked out the door. Just before closing it, he looked back but Henry was deep in conversation again. He hadn’t noticed, he thought to himself.
The clock on the shop wall said just after three so he decided to search out Danny at his dad’s shop half way up the High Street. He strode up the hill and was at the Tripe Shop in no time. He opened the door and the bell rang loudly. Mr Sanderson, in soiled apron and white boater came into the shop. His boater had a colourful ribbon on the rim matching his jolly red face.
‘Is Danny about?’ Louis asked.
‘No he’s not young Louis. He’s gone to the ‘tanner rush’ with Derek Taylor.’ T
his was a colloquial phrase for the children’s programme at the King’s cinema every Saturday afternoon. ‘By now though, they’ll be watching the football match. I think the Town are at home today.’ Often, if there were any children wanting to get in near half time, the gatemen would ask if they had been to the cinema, and often let them in for free. In turn that would swell the gate and increased the noise of the supporters.
‘Thank you Mr Sanderson.’ Louis turned and went outside on the pavement.
Hey, Louis, wait a minute will you!’ The shopkeeper shouted, but Louis was already out of sight. ‘There’s something different about that boy today,’ he said to himself then shrugged his shoulders and carried on with the cleaning.
Louis looked up the hill. The crowds were dwindling already. He thought about the stalls on the market at the top of the steep hill and strode up it. He felt no discomfort as it got steeper so he decided to break into a run. As he neared the top, he met a few stragglers who were struggling with their heavy bags down the hill, and they looked amazed at this boy running up it. He carried on running past the big church and came to a stop at the market stalls. Amazingly, he was not at all out of breath. It suddenly made him realise what a wonderful thing Magda had done for him.
The scene before him was a rare one indeed. His Saturdays were spent doing his rounds for Mr Reynolds and he remembered that in his old condition, he could never have attempted that hill, certainly not on a Saturday. Many of the stalls however were packed away, or in a few cases in the process of doing so. In fact the once vibrant scene had become rather desolate and empty. In a short while. the council clean up team would be clearing up the debris, and within the hour, the only thing standing would be the war memorial.
Louis approached the top of the High Street. It was very steep and very straight, so that despite its length he could see his dad’s shop right at the bottom. Across the valley he could make out the huge viaduct carrying the trains from the North Eastern railway. His father told him that the Italian prisoners of war had built it right across the valley, a massive landmark. As he made his way down the road, he could make out the various shops, but one shop stood out above the rest, Molly’s Ice Cream Parlour. No one could miss the ten foot cone, shaped like an ice cream cornet. It needed no other introduction. Danny and himself had enjoyed the delights of Molly’s on many an occasion, and agreed there was no ice cream like it.