Ten For The Devil

Young Peter - Chapter 13

Copyright – All rights reserved - Deborah Mitton 2013

Young Peter

Chapter 13

A fortnight after Peter’s arrival Jonathan dared to request that he tell his story and with much hesitation, he slowly gave details of his life. The sad man that Jonathan met in the Red Boar was gone or at least hidden from view. Peter was an excellent spinner of tales and a tapestry of his life became woven in front of Jonathan’s eyes.

He spoke of his younger self in the slums of London. His father, a widower, took his wee son to work with him, training him to be his apprentice carpenter. Their lives were simple but they were glad to be with it other. Peter spoke of his father with tenderness, of which Jonathan was envious. When Peter was, about eight years his father became ill and he wrote for his brother to come before it was too late. They had not seen each other for many years as Peter’s father had turned his back on his family business in the colonies for he hated the sea. He returned to London where he met and married Peter’s mother, Emily. She died in childbirth a year after he was born as well as the child, a stillborn. It was only fear for his son’s welfare that his father took pen to paper for the McLaughlin’s for all their talents were stubborn.

During this time, Peter tried to earn enough to make ends meet by working at his trade and he had some talent carving wooden animals and selling them in the marketplace. Many of the gentry purchased his toys to take back to their own spoiled children who would soon break them and cast away.

It was almost a year to the day, of the letter mailing, that his uncle arrived. He recalled the night

a loud knock came upon their door and Peter spied through the curtains. From his bed his father called out, “Who is it son?”

“I don’t know father for he is a very strange man indeed.”

“What does he look like son?”

“He’s a giant father, dressed all in black and he be wearing a tall hat.” The frighten boy ran to his father and throwing himself on his feeble chest whispered, “Is he Death father?”

“No son, I do believe that it is your Uncle long awaited.” Michael said with a thankful breath. He had been getting nervous as some of his neighbors were waiting for his passing to steal them blind and perhaps harm his boy.

Peter ran to the door and opened it allowing the man in black and the night’s dampness in.

“Thee took thy good old time, boy!” said the giant towering over him.

Peter had never been so frighten before, for the man’s voice was the sound of broken thunder and his eyes were the color of a stormy grey sky.

“Well boy, I’m your uncle! Take me to your father we have matters to discuss!”

With three of four long strides, his uncle entered their shared bedroom. The brothers looking at each other spoke, “God be with you Michael.”

“Hello Thomas, thank thee for coming!” The giant closed the door behind him leaving Peter alone before the fireplace.

Hours passed or so it seem to the boy before the door opened again and the man closed it behind him.

“Come here boy.” Peter, rubbing his eyes for he had fallen asleep, rose from his chair and walked over to his uncle. “Boy, I am your Uncle Thomas, soon to be your only blood relative left upon this God’s good earth. Your father and I have come to a decision, one that he has not made lightly. You are to gather you things and come with me in the morning, I will be back for thee as the cock crows.”

With this and not another word he gathered his cloak and hat without turning left his father’s humble apartment and enter the black night leaving the stunned boy to stare at his uncle’s vanishing back as it dissolved like smoke in the wet black coal dust fog.

After gathering his thoughts, he went to his father’s bedside. Michael was exhausted from the encounter with his brother and had little energy left to give his dear sweet boy. Peter crawled up into the bed beside his father, hugged him close and listened to the faint heart-beat in the man’s once wide chest. His father started coughing and the cloth that he brought to his lips became covered in blood. After a bit, he gained his strength to speak to his son telling him of the wonderful life he would have on the sea with his Uncle. He would be free from the sickness that civilization brings, that London was not the place for a growing boy.

His uncle had to make the tide for the whaling would be starting soon and he had to reach the breeding grounds first and hold their harvesting spot on the sea or someone else would reap the greatest yield. The boy was wept, his tears soaked his father’s nightshirt. The carpenter’s weakened fingers ran through his darling boy’s blonde hair. “Boy please do not weep!” From his heart he spoke; “I go to my Maker more content now that I know that you will be looked after. I will see your mother again and I will be happy.” It was the first time that he spoke honestly to the boy about his pending death.

After many short intakes he had the strength to speak again; “You will have a fine life, your uncle will see to that, trust me. Thomas is a hard man but he is still your blood. He is a fine, God fearing man and he will bring you up the same.”

“I don’t want to leave you father, not now when you need me so much! Who will work and buy your food in the marketplace and who will cook and clean for you? Who will look after you?” His tears flowing down his cheeks and his little nose was running.

“Now, Now Michael don’t worry yourself so, for your uncle has looked after everything. The priest will come in the morning, gather me up, and take me to the infirmary. The monks are good men, I will be looked after, and when I’m better, I will join you both out on the sea. Wouldn’t that be a fine thing boy? Yes a fine thing, now go to sleep you have a great ways to travel in the morrow.” Peter’s tears fell but exhausted he slept in his father’s arms. Michael looked at his angel and kissed his forehead and wept for he will soon never see his face again and whispering a prayer from Psalm – I waited patiently for the Lord: he turned to me and heard my cry, Michael too slept once more.

The candle on the side table gave the sleeping pair a halo of golden light before it flicker and died enveloping the room in total darkness.