Thom Boat

Learning to see

I took the money grace had saved for the life to come and used it to buy a hammer, nails, an axe and a saw. With what was left, I bought a fishing rod and seeds to plant a garden the only memento momma grace left for me was an old knife. Used mostly for protection on our days of walking. But never the less, a strong sure blade that carried confidence on my hand and was married to a dark warm leather handle, that almost felt like stone around the tang. I began to walk consciously for the first time with surety under foot. My boots deliberately scuffing the gravel, so as to see tiny pale stones scurry from my path. Almost percussively singing to welcome my eyes to what I only had ever heard.I don't recollect having a confident sense of direction. I was inclined to trust my feet more than my new-found sight. So, I began to once again walk. Not knowing where home was or even indeed a place to welcome my strange new shadow of solitude. Looking back over a few years of memories that were now apparent as to have been carefully placed in me, I was beginning to find an inner strength to be alive. As now every inch of road leading me away from the town where momma Grace rested gave me peace.Although I could see there was a bitter of edge to my awakened sense. The colours from the dull haze of my blindness seem to have gone. Everything was now black and white, so I'd been swapped a palette for a photograph. All was now light or dark, on or off, heavy or weightless. It almost seemed the path I had walked with mamma Grace during the war had taken all the colour of life. I was now left with the solitude of a paled hue. Worn stones now blanketed the ground. Tired trees once again had to learn to recognise the sun now that the black smoke of battle had disappeared. It was almost as if the earth had given up on man. I decided to leave the path, knowing I had better chance of staying away from eyes that would inevitably create stories about the boy who lived alone. I only ever put my faith in one person and my sense of invisibility that had become somewhat as a security blanket that was easier to keep than allowed the curiosity of strangers to start poking this creature with sticks, and force answers selfishly for their own gain.The sallow wood of the birch forest welcomed my arms and shoulders with endless scratches as I walked a good mile before I looked back to find an unrecognisable track behind me. And then as if opening a thick curtain, the forest gave up one of its beautiful secrets. Coming upon a plateau I looked out over the valley that hid the tiny village I had left. This great crease scooped from the earth seemed to go on forever. I felt truly close to nowhere and was so grateful for it that my body responded by falling to its knees and greeting the earth under my hands. Realising this is the closest I felt to home. I hunted for food, planted seeds and began to build. Although summer was well in control, it would in a short time, climb into its bed for a well-earned rest. This wasn't a country that made it easy for the sun to shine. Since in this corner of the earth, the winter was the sovereign of malice. Mama Grace had taught me to weave. And she did it so well, that a simple bowl would fail to lose a drop of water. So, I did as I knew to do. In one sturdy water tight room with a small door equal to my young height was made. And just in time for the vengeful solace of winter. The silent hunting of rabbit kept me very lean and grateful for the coming spring. So, I spent that first quiet winter preparing in my mind to make the months of sun count.Just as I had longed for, warmth began to cover the ground beneath me. And I took no time expanding my cottage. Branches held clay as clay held shale. And there it was. Home. With rooms that held little, but I quiet faith to retain pieces of the future. Winter didn't take long to knock on my door again. And now it had been a year of solitary conversations in my head, caged with the immortality of life as I thought only of survival. This winter was going to be more insular than the former. So, I cut down the last two straight trees I could find, and spent the cold months building myself a fishing boat. She was my best friend during that winter we grew in size and character sharing each other's knots and scars.I named her Grace. And as the sun once again kissed the snow, I took her for her first maiden voyage on the loch outside my home. Finding the water deep and cold, each ripple looked as if monsters breeched the surface. And the eddy created by the boat rolled back the water like a heavy dark curtain on a stage.The world around me seemed to be giving up secrets as the open hands of time were teaching the boy that the earth had a place for him. The black almost motionless water was broken only by my fishing line with the only exception of an occasional fish breaking the surface to remind me that respected patience needed to drive my hunger.I sat in silence that day for what seemed to be hours until I heard these words for the first time. "there's got to be a better way". I looked up to see a boy about my height and age standing on the shore. He was a heavy-set boy with tight curly dusty hair, wearing a pair of lifeless short, A tatted whited shirt and a poor pair of suspenders that just looked as if they needed to die in peace. "there is" I said. "a fishing net". "there are tons of them in town". "í could take one off a boat then we could go into business together". "You have a boat and I have a net" said the boy "don't you think the fishing boats need all their nets" I asked. "I believe in the flexibility of property rights in small towns" said the boy as he stood awkwardly with his hand behind his back, kicking the loose stones into the water with his bare feet. "I'm Jack" he said nonchalantly. "Jack Piper" he added. "I'm Thom" I replied. "what's your last name Thom?" "I don't have one" I replied. That seemed to grip Jacks attention. "well you'll need one if we go into the fishing business together". "I'm not sure if the life of fishing is for me" I said unsurely. "oh, it definitely is" said jack. And of course, I had to ask why. "Because you have a boat!" exclaimed jack with a sure smile. "ill be back tomorrow with the rest of our equipment for Jack and Thom's affordable fishing produce" and with that, he left. I was surprised, excited, and uncomfortable with the strange eccentric introduction of jack into my world. But he did have a larger vocabulary then me, which I found enjoyable. I arrived early to the shore of our meeting the next morning to find Jack already there. Mending a sorry looking fishing net that appeared to almost be in several pieces, as he kept pushing back the sleeves of his oversized rain coat "where did u get the net" I asked surprised and nervous. "I acquired it from a fishing man, reliving him of his troublesome bourdon after his nightly fill of rum had medically reached its peak. "oh, I see" not really wanting any more information. "did you choose a last name for yourself yet"? asked Jack "I didn't know I needed one". Jack said his dad told him that it adds credibility to a man. I figured he must've been right, seeing he knew more words then me. "my father said we came from a long line of Pipers" Jack said proudly. "I never knew my parents" I said embarrassed "all I have from them is this cross" pointing to my chest. "ahh' said Jack. "missionaries" he said. "well that's to much of a mouthful for a name. how about Boat?" I liked that. My boat was the only thing that seemed to make any sense in my small world. "yes" I replied, "Boat sounds good". "then it shall be so" exclaimed Jack. "the Piper Boat fishing company". It put a smile on my face to hear that. It gave me a strange sense of belonging. And so, it was that Jack and I spent that summer fishing. The next couple of years seemed to pass so much faster then before. I taught Jack how to build and hunt. And Jack taught me to read.12One last season on the boat past and news of a great war reached the ears of Jacks village. Jack said his father called it the war to end all wars. His father said that if we didn't stand up to the enemy, we would lose our home. So, we decided together to sign up and fight for our freedom. I hope that momma Grace would be proud of me. But I was glad she wasn't around to see another war and watch me go.I made my way into town with only the clothes on my back and my tired boots. I found a maple tree where I buried Grace and carved my name and date of birth into it. Jack tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to see him with an enormous bag of food tins, and more surprisingly, shoes on his feet. "right"! he said. "time for Germany to taste our cold steel. We walked to the next biggest town which had a train station. Jack had saved just enough for us to get to London. It was time for Thom Boat to finally meet the world.