The door creaked as it swung open, the old metal hinges in need of repair, and Gaspi stepped into the dark hallway. Night came quickly in the mountains, and the lamps should be lit by now. A dim glow was seeping under the kitchen door, and, pushing it open tentatively, Gaspi didn’t have to look far to find Jonn, his guardian. Unmoving in the corner chair, Jonn slumped unconscious before the fire, yesterday’s growth still shadowing his face and a bottle of strong highland malt sitting on the floor below a dangling hand. Clasped tightly in his lap was a red scarf, and half-dried tear tracks glistened in the low light on his face. Sighing, Gaspi moved to his side and gently shook him, calling his name until Jonn began to stir. Helping him to his feet, Gaspi moved him to the bedroom. After putting him to bed he left the room, closing the door gently behind him and leaning back against the wall, breathing deeply and slowly, his head hanging loosely on shoulders too young to understand this sorrow.
Gaspi knew Jonn’s story of course. Jonn and his wife Rhetta had been inseparable from Gaspi’s parents, and when Gaspi was conceived they had proudly accepted the role of guardians, responsible for supporting Gaspi’s parents in mentoring and guiding their child. Less than one year after Gaspi was born, Jonn and Rhetta had been deep in the forest on a hunting trip with Gaspi’s parents, when a group of drunk trappers from the other side of the mountains had come across their camp. They had hit Jonn from behind before he realised they were there, and he had come around to see them running their knife across his best friend’s throat. The two women were already dead, and if Jonn had been out for a minute longer he would never have woken. Jonn had never said much about what happened next, and all that Gaspi knew was that he had lost his mind, murdered the trappers, and nearly died out in the wilderness before he was found by a search party three days later.
He’d been unresponsive and speechless, staring incoherently into space, lost in a deep inner landscape where pain couldn’t touch him. It had taken months to bring Jonn back to himself, and Gaspi had been taken in by Taurnil’s family while he recovered. Jonn had taken Gaspi back when he was two years old, and the boy didn’t remember any of these things, so for Gaspi life with Jonn was simply life as he knew it. Since that day in the mountains, Jonn had changed. He was no longer the warm, gregarious man he had been, when love and blessing had surrounded his days in a golden cloud. He was still kind, and helpful, and sincere, but in a distant way; he did not come often to village gatherings, and mostly kept himself to himself. He did odd jobs around the village to keep himself and Gaspi fed and clothed, and sometimes went out on his own hunting for a few days at a time, leaving Gaspi with Taurnil’s folks while he was away.
The only person he ever showed real warmth to was Gaspi, his last remaining link to the friend he had loved like a brother. He loved Gaspi fiercely and protectively, and Gaspi loved him in return. Theirs was a rare loyalty and understanding, and when every now and again sorrow overtook Jonn and he fled into drunken oblivion, he was always filled with remorse the next day and apologised over and over to Gaspi, who just wished Jonn’s pain could be taken away.
Jonn seemed most happy watching Gaspi on the ice, an unfettered smile of genuine pleasure bringing light to his usually solemn face every time Gaspi scored. Sometimes Gaspi watched with surreptitious envy through open shutters as families ate together, laughing and smiling in the warm glow of fire-lit kitchens, but mostly Gaspi felt he was lucky to have a guardian like Jonn. Although he was the only boy in the village to live in such a situation, the other children were too respectful to mock him for it. That is, with the exception of Jakko, who had recently started throwing barbed taunts about Jonn into his normal abuse. For the first time in his life Gaspi started to feel genuine hatred towards another human being, when Jakko stepped so cruelly on that sacred ground.
Gaspi found he hadn’t the heart to do much that evening, so after getting some cured meat from the cellar, and munching on dried fruit, he sat in the kitchen until the fire died. He made his way to the bedroom he shared with Jonn and lay on his smaller cot staring at the ceiling - thinking of ways to make Jonn happier - until he, too, fell asleep.
Chapter 2
The red glow of morning radiated through Gaspi’s eyelids, waking him comfortably into the new day. He was about to drift back to sleep when he heard the sound of pots clanking through the wall, and knew that Jonn was up and about. Pulling on some leggings and a shirt, Gaspi went into the kitchen, where Jonn was bending over the stove, frying some strips of meat for their breakfast. As the door closed behind Gaspi, he straightened and turned around, running a hand through his hair.
“Gaspi, about last night...I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay, Jonn,” Gaspi said.
“No, Gaspi, it’s not okay. A boy shouldn’t have to carry his Da to bed.” The pain in Jonn’s voice was palpable.
Gaspi was desperate to reassure him. “Jonn, really, I understand.”
Tears brimmed in Jonn’s eyes. “I know you do Gasp, I know it. But it doesn’t stop me feeling ashamed. I just want you to know, I’ll try not to...” Silence fell between them for a few moments.
“I know you will, Jonn.” Gaspi moved to his guardian and hugged him gently, a hug Jonn returned self-consciously, but with gratitude. Jonn only fell into his drink once every few months, and Gaspi had never felt neglected by him. He just worried for Jonn, and silently shared his pain to a degree Jonn would never understand. More than anything else Gaspi just wanted Jonn to be happy, to maybe find another wife, have some children of his own. It wasn’t the drinking that bothered Gaspi; it was the loneliness. Jonn seemed much more cheerful after that, and when Gaspi left that morning he even heard him humming a tune to himself as he cleaned.
The brilliant sunshine reflected off the snow in a blinding flare, and, looking around him, Gaspi drank in the sparkling beauty of the scene. The dark, bald undersides of tree limbs were iced starkly in white; the sheer black rock of the mountainside contrasted against its snowy covering. Birds flitted from branch to branch, chirping brilliantly in the still air. Breathing deeply, Gaspi shook off the last of the previous evening’s darkness, and ran to the pond to meet his friends, as he always did on a Feast-Day morning.
Emea was helping her Ma that morning, so Taurnil and Gaspi practiced their goalkeeping and shooting skills on the pond, and after eating lunch with Taurnil’s family they went back out that afternoon to carry on - only to find Jakko and his friends already using the ice. One of his friends pointed them out to Jakko as they approached, and turning to face them, he leaned confidently on his stick and stared them down, a customary sneer stealing over his face.
“Here comes the orphan. How’s your useless Da, Gaspi?” he taunted. It was unspoken but common knowledge that Jonn sometimes fell to drinking heavily, but most people understood why and left him alone. Few things could make Gaspi’s blood boil, but mocking Jonn was the worst of them. Seething, he froze momentarily, clenched fists turning as red as his face. Taurnil only just caught on to the level of his friend’s fury in time, and grabbed him by the arm as Gaspi was about to lunge forward.
“Stop, Gasp!” Taurnil said firmly.
Gaspi tried to pull away, but after several attempts he stopped and stood glaring furiously into Taurnil’s eyes. “Let go of me, Taurn, I’m telling you…”
“There’ll be another time, Gasp. He has his ice boots on and you don’t, and he has five of his friends with him.”
“I don’t care,” Gaspi retorted. “He can’t get away with that. I just...” But the moment was passing, and Gaspi’s anger was easing to a simmer. “Okay, let’s go then,” he said angrily. Taurnil released his friend’s arm and they walked away, Jakko and his gang’s laughter following them down the street.
“I don’t care so much what he says about me, Taurn,” Gaspi said as his anger drained away. “It’s that recently he’s started bringing Jonn into it. You know what he’s been saying? That Jonn was too much of a weakling to defend my parents that day. That he cowered in the bushes begging for his life while they killed them. I mean, I know it’s not true, but if Jonn was to hear…”
“Jonn can look after himself, Gaspi,” Taurnil responded. “You don’t need to protect him.”
Gaspi sighed. “Maybe not, but I just can’t help myself. Jakko drives me insane. I’d love to pound his face in...” The two friends walked in silence for a few minutes, before Taurnil suggested they go and see Emea at her Ma’s place and see if they could persuade her to come out with them.
Emea was sitting with her Ma, a plump woman of middle years who always had some sweet goodies for them hidden away somewhere. Emea’s little sister Maria was playing with coloured wooden balls in the corner and the two ladies were at the kitchen table with cloth and thread strewn all around them. Looking up, Emea’s Ma saw the boys as they approached the door. Smiling, broadly she called out to them “Come in boys, you’re just in time,” and bustled off into the pantry to find something for them to eat.
Gaspi and Taurn went in, and sat down at the table. Emea looked sharply at their faces. “What happened?” she asked.
It was Taurnil who answered, “Jakko was making trouble again.” Gaspi huffed and looked at the floor.
“Well, that’s not unusual. What’s got you so riled, Gasp?” Emea probed.
“He was having a go at Jonn,” Gaspi answered reluctantly, still looking at the floor. He glanced up, and seeing the sympathy in Emea’s eyes he continued, “I just can’t bear it when he goes for Jonn. He can say what he likes about me, but when he starts in on Jonn like that I just see red.” Passing a hand across his eyes he blew out some air. “He was saying that Jonn was useless,” he added, some seconds later.
Emea reached out a hand and placed it gently on Gaspi’s. “Sorry Gaspi,” she said.
Gaspi knew he should be feeling embarrassed, but looking into Emea’s eyes he felt strangely comfortable. The moment extended warmly, until Emea’s Ma came back in with a plate of pastries, and Emea withdrew her hand. The pastries were light, soft rolls of dough with fruit sprinkled throughout, one of the boys’ favourites. Grabbing a couple each, all three of them gobbled them in silence apart from the occasional noise of pleasure, their host beaming at their enjoyment.
When the plates were clear, Emea’s Ma shooed them out of the house. “Go on then, you three. Go and have fun. Just make sure you’re back before we go to the Moot Hall tonight, Emmy!” Flinging rucksacks on their backs, the three friends bustled out of the door and into the cold, fresh air. It was a good day for exploring the forest, hunting imaginary boar, and shooting at game birds with homemade slingshots. They had some strips of cloth Gaspi had ripped from one of Jonn’s old shirts, into which they placed rocks, spinning them round and round their heads and releasing them at whichever unlucky feathered target they chose.
Gaspi was particularly good at this, but Emea and Taurnil were fairly skilled too, and after an afternoon of high imagination and hunting they trudged home in the failing light with five plump birds to give to their parents and to Jonn. They wouldn’t be needed tonight, as it was a Feast-Day, and they would eat in the Moot Hall with the village. Parting at the village well, they went to their homes in preparation for the night’s festivities.
Just as they were separating, Emea caught Gaspi’s arm. “Gaspi, save me a dance tonight?” she asked. Her sweet face looked oddly determined and intense, and, feeling suddenly nervous, Gaspi smiled weakly and nodded, before turning and walking away. He was suddenly aware of a storm of movement in his belly, and wondered why he felt that a pit had opened beneath him and that his next step would send him tumbling into it.
On entering the house, Gaspi was surprised to find Jonn sitting in the kitchen, polishing his best shoes.
He looked up as Gaspi entered the room. “Alright there Gasp? You’d better get a rush on if you want to be ready for the feast.”
Gaspi grinned and ran to his room to get ready. Jonn hadn’t been to a feast all winter, and even though Gaspi really enjoyed them, he always hated leaving Jonn on his own. On previous occasions his enjoyment had been overshadowed by images of Jonn sitting on his own in front of the fire, leaving him with a burden of guilt. This time would be different. Jonn would be there with him, enjoying the music and company. Maybe this would be the start of a new happiness for Jonn. Gaspi’s imagination continued to create a happier future for him and Jonn as he got ready for the evening.
The villagers flowed into the hall in twos and threes. Some families would have to leave one parent at home with very young children, but almost the entire village would be out for the feast. In Gaspi’s opinion, this was the best thing about winter: the massive tables groaning under the weight of platters of food, everyone laughing and happy, the wild swirling music and the stamping of feet going on long into the night. This was also a chance to dance with Emmy, something he was trying not to think about, but which kept intruding into his thoughts, bringing with it a fresh surge of discomfort in his belly.
He was sitting in the corner with Jonn, feeling proud of his guardian with his combed hair, brushed jacket and shining shoes. Jonn looked like the perfect highland gentleman, and Gaspi wanted everyone to notice how finely he had dressed.
Despite some minor signs of twitchiness, Jonn himself looked surprisingly comfortable, even among the large crowd of fifty or sixty people. He sat in the corner smiling and nodding to people as they called out greetings, Many of the women made a fuss over him, coming over and saying just how lovely it was to see him. One or two of them asked him to dance with them later, and to Gaspi’s amazement Jonn agreed, smiling warmly at the requests. Suddenly tears were welling up in Gaspi’s eyes, and he had to blink furiously and clench his jaw to avoid letting them spill onto his cheeks. A surge of pure, bright hope was filling Gaspi’s heart, so strong he wondered if he could contain it, but he kept it to himself, and as the feasting began he found that incredible feeling fuelling his happiness to new levels. He laughed and joked with ferocity, drinking in every last drop of joy, earning amused, warm glances from Jonn and other adults around him.