CHAPTER VIII: SEVENTH MOTIF BY VERÔME

Bare and dismal, haggard and dusty, empty and treeless, Knights Hill is neither very high nor too much at sight, but has no more access than a shortcut, I dare not even call it a path, full of mud and pebbles that starts in Knights Bridge and reaches the top. Luke climbed it seeing that the night would be hazy and a shred of fog began to rise when he reached the top. Before concluding his road, he seemed sorry for what he had not done but wanted to do. Let's say that he finished the path by instinct, because he continued believing in this creed that said that there are inferior human beings and other superior, and he should give them a lesson. When he stepped on the top he discovered a tent on the east and did not see any more. It was my mate Lucy’s tent, who wast not afraid that everybody could see where she slept every night. In the descent toward Umbra Terrae Boulevard, there were no roads but a safe paths downhill, there were some elms where Mistress Oakes and Olivia's tents were. Those of Bruce and Miguel and John’s were also on the way down, but on the southern side. Once he arrived at the top of the promontory, he started to cry out loud as a demoniac.

─ "You scumbags – He began to scream-, beggars, where are you? Come out of your holes, for here it is the one who will give you a lesson."

 These words and similar niceties came out of his mouth in those minutes until Miguel got out of his tent, John very closely, and spoke to him.

─ "Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?"

─ "You have to go away from this place today or we will show you what you deserve"

─ "Have you really thought what you're saying? Where are we going to go?"

─ "To another city."  

─ "We do not want to go from here. In this city we have been all our lives. And if we did what you say and we would leave, who can guarantee that we do not find someone violent like you and expel us from there too? And why? We have not done anything to anyone. And I don't know whwther you realize something, what is keeping us from killing you now, or from beating you? I think at the moment we are four, but we are six."

─ "Yes – Luke began to say, realizing he had fallen, recklessly, into the trap he was preparing-. But there are five more, and if something happens to me, they will come to take revenge on you mercilessly."

─ "Yes, but you go first."

─ "Then give me a beating. I admit that I hadn't thought of that chance and I've been a fool. I alone have devised it and now I deserve it."

─ "How about no one hurts anyone? We do not even know each other. How about we simply talk for a while? -then Mistress Oakes came out of her tent. Seeing her, Luke turned red. Despite the beliefs that they had instilled him those months, he always believed he was a feminist, and he was not able to hurt a woman. In addition the bald had not taught him to hate women. He found himself totally incapable of even insulting them-. I'm going to introduce myself. My name is Miguel McDawn. I've been a Lieutenant in the army and I have known many soldiers and perhaps it has given me a special flair to recognize other soldiers. You are also being brave."

─ "Yes, I have been in the air force."

─ "Me too. A soldier would not be afraid of saying his name.  Not of that. I'd at least like to know your name."

   And he said his real name.

─ "My name is Prancitt, Luke Prancitt. That is my real name. If you want to report me, now you know what my name is. I live opposite here, there in number seven, Knightsbridge Street. Now do whatever you want."

─ "I repeat, Luke Prancitt, that you are brave, and as I was saying, wouldn't it be better if we didn’t hurt each other and we simply talked?"

   John, who was watching the scene but has not come close, approached them then. Seeing him, Luke asked.

─ “But the two of you...?"

─ "Yes, we are a couple. That's what you wanted to know, isn't it? This is John, the man I love. And now that you know, do you want to continue talking to me?"

   At that point, Luke could only speak with difficulty, in monosyllables. His eEyes were getting wet and they would not take long to be rain.

─ "Yes." – He was able to answer.

─ "We are a couple, we are, but we are two men, and I can assure you that although dirtier we have the same things as you. That is the only thing you should care about. Let me give you one other example. Both you and I, have been in the air force, where I got to be Lieutenant McDawn. I was a friend of many of my soldiers. Do you dismiss the chance that in other circumstances you and I would have been able to be friends"?

─ "No - he said tersely-, go on"

-“Well then imagine that you and I would have been friends. Go one step further. One day I have a girlfriend. In fact when I was in the army I thought that I only liked women. Since as we are friends, I introduce her to you and of course I ask your opinion about her. And you tell me that you find her ugly. "

─ "I do not think that I would tell a friend that his girlfriend seems ugly to me, but go on, end your example."

─ "You won't tell a friend, but think of it. Then I ask you but not getting angry at you: what the hell is it to you? You don't have to sleep with her. It would be possible, isn't it?"

─ "Yes."

─ "So I ask you now, Luke. If I sleep with John, what is it to you? You don't have to lie down with him. And yet, you look disgusted."

─ "Yes, I feel disgust, Miguel, but I feel disgust about myself. You are right. What is it to me? You should live according to your own laws."

─ "Thus I've always lived. I don't know whether you'll believe me, but I'm on the street because I chose it. We are neighbors. I'd like to talk to you more often. You came up believing that we were scumbags and now you start to believe that we are human beings. Tell me the truth; would you like us to talk again?"

─ "Yes -and then he said something else-, but it is not only me, Miguel. There are others who want to hurt you."

─ "I would like to tell you about a dream I had once. Would you like to hear it?"

─ "Tell me."

─ "I suppose that as many humans one day you've dreamed you die or someone you love dies, isn't it?"

─ "Yes, I suppose it is quite usual"

─ "It surely is. But I know not what it is to die, but what it is to kill. I assure you that I have not killed anybody, but I know what it feels like, because I have dreamed about it. One day in my teenage years I dreamed that I had killed a man."

─ "By accident or on purpose?"

─ "I only remember that it was a man and that it was on purpose. I don't remember who he was, how I killed him or why I killed him. But I assure you that it was the most distressing dream of my life. It was a real relief to wake up. Then, for a month I felt bad with myself. Until I had to say to myself: you have not done anything, you're not responsible for what you've dreamed of. But I assure you that dream gave me a moral brake for life and just in case I always take a deep breath before getting seriously angry with someone. And that fear led me to abandon the army. Because I know what the price is that I have to pay. Do you really think that everyone has one price?"

─ "Perhaps. I have not thought about it."

─ "Let me emphasize the word one. Everybody has one price. But not everybody has all prices. And we also have to pay more and I know what it would be: my own life. You've arrived here intending to hurt us out of hatred or revenge. Imagine now that someone offered you money to do it. Suppose that a billionaire offers you a fortune for killing me. The fact is that I am able to imagine myself tempted by a hefty sum of money, I can imagine myself doing it, and as I have already done it I would enjoy a fortune, but for how long, for two hours? A whole day? I do not think that I could enjoy that fortune more than two hours, because I would end up paying it with my own life. I do not know the taste of caviar for example. As I now have a fortune I can afford going to a restaurant to ask for it. I would be unable to recognize what the taste is. All that time I would be inevitably thinking what the least painful way to kill myself is. I would not enjoy that fortune more than one day. Is it worth?"

─ "There are contract killers. They are cold-blooded, do it and live their lives."

─ "Maybe many of them end by committing suicide. But if they don't, they live some time enjoying some money, but enjoying life under these conditions? Do you find it possible, Luke?"

─ "I don’t. But you're talking about conscience. My father was a Catholic priest. He left his ministry to marry my mother."

─ "Then, with all due respect for your family, Luke, Christians may have given value to many words which were important, and I do not deny them that merit, but do you think that they have really invented anything that previously did not exist? Conscience is that moral brake which I spoke about earlier, without which humanity would not have been able to progress. Imagine now two brothers playing with a puppy. The eldest doesn’t allow his younger brother to intervene. If there were no conscience, if benefits could be achieved without a price in return, the youngest would kill his older brother and would play with the puppy. Of course, then he would realize that he would have lost more, and would weep seeing that he can no longer play with his brother. Do you realize that none would then come to adults? Who hasn’t had as a child a quarrel with someone?"

─ "Miguel, I would like to continue talking to you, and hopefully one other day we can do it. But it's eight o’clock and I have appointed to meet the others at 9, in a place that we have in Churchway and explain to them what has happened here this evening. I wish I can convince them to do nothing to you. But that danger continues to exist."

─ "At that time, Luke, you'll have to choose an army. See whether the one you are in now is really valid for you. There is more in you than I could see at first. And at least you're brave, respectful and tender."

─ "Thank you, Miguel. The same I could say of you. But then I must understand that I have to betray an army."

─ "It is sometimes necessary. Imagine that you've been living in country A and one day you discover that your parents are in country B. There you meet a good woman and have children that also grow in that country. You have believed the first was your homeland, but one day both nations go to war and you have to fight in either of those sides necessarily. I'm not going to tell you what side you have to choose, not which one you betray, but which one you express your loyalty to. Now think, Luke, as you get on the road, what your army is, and what price you have to pay if you stay in one or another. Maybe your own life is at stake. Go now. Whatever happens later, it has been a pleasure to meet you."

─ "Let's shake hands, Miguel. At least I can assure you that if it depended only on me, you would not receive any damage. See you." - And he left.

   It is impossible to describe under what conditions he came down the hill, and traveled the road to their lair in Churchway. His mind was about to explode. He came to the conclusion that he did not want any fight and could not choose the army of those he had just met, actually only Miguel. He remembered the nights of revelry with his friends and... And then he had to stop. Did I say friends? They brainwashed me and have been about to lead me to murder. But they were colleagues, comrades... Inevitably, even if they were a few sons of a bitch, he was not able to betray them. Oh if he could avoid a fight. He devoted himself to think the words he could say now. He knew that he could not utter Miguel's name. A skinhead does not tell another the name of him who he wants to save. He meditated cautiously what he would say now.

   He felt cold upon entering the basement in Churchway where they used to meet. They were all there, waiting for Luke's story.

─ "What happened?" - asked Sebastian Fraser.

─ "I have spoken with them. They might have killed me, Seb. It was one against four. But they have not done so."

─ "Have you spoken with one of the two men we have seen kissing?"

─ "I have."

─ "What is his name?"

─ "I have not asked his name, and he has not told me. – He deliberately lied. Miguel was a beggar, was in love with another man and even had a foreign name. Too many things for which he could be crushed-. He is really a wonderful man, Seb. He could have killed me but has been peacefully talking to me."

─ "You're saying a lot of stupid things, Luke - interrupted Bart-. They are scumbags and I don't want to run into that crap again when I get home tonight."

   Luke overlooked this offensive comment and looking at Sebastian, asked.

─ "What reason is there to fight them, Seb?"

─ "You have been a few months with us and know that some human beings deserve a lesson or annihilation. Or have you changed your mind?"

─ "I don't know, Seb. I only know that a man I wanted to kill has saved my life."

─ "At least they have to go away from there." - was the intervention of the laconic Bill Dempsey.

─ "Perhaps - said Luke-, but one thing is that they go away and a different thing is that we give them a beating or something worse. Have they really done anything?"

─ "Maybe they are doing something offensive for only existing, Luke - Gareth Gains said-. You cannot be some things and not pay for them."

─ "They have their own laws, but what do we care what they are or how they live as far as they do not interfere in ours?"

─ "We’ll have to go there tonight - said again Sebastian Fraser-. If you want, you can return to the hill to tell them that we will be there about 11 and tell them they mustn’t be there one more hour or they shall pay."

─ "I will go up then, Seb." – He said as he heard Bart agreeing with Gareth in something, and telling him that they would have a drink and then return.

   Impotence was Luke’s mood as he climbed Knights Hill for the second time that day. He had to tell Miguel and all of them that they were at risk, that he had failed to convince them that there was no fight. Fog already covered the entire river. He lived there and was accustomed to seeing it and know that it would even get thicker. Miguel was waiting for him and simply asked.

─ "What can you tell me?"

─ "Hello again, Miguel. I have not been able to convince them and they told me that they will come here at 11. Surely they are blind, but I have not been able to return them the sight. Could you not at least go away from here and hide?"

─ "Where could we go that they never again find us, Luke? Whatever it is, we have to deal with this situation. And you too, for even when everything is going very fast and you don't have any time to think, you must finally decide on one or another possibility… -and he fell silent suddenly noticing that Luke was then discovering Olivia’s presence and he seemed to be thinking "another woman"-. This is my friend Olivia. Still Lucy, her daughter, has to come. This man you see at your side is my mate Bruce. We are three men and three women. -Mother and daughter, he thought. He was distressed then. He could not hurt three women, let alone two who were relatives-. As for the time they've told you, I think they have cheated you, Luke. I don't think they will come at 11 o'clock. They will come earlier to catch us all discussing what we can do."

─ "I don't know whether I have been cheated, Miguel, I sincerely tell you. But I think they are capable."

─ "Look, Luke - and he pointed at Castle Road, very close to Knights Bridge, to some people  who came walking-. Is it them?"

   They were only four, but he distinguished well Sebastian, Bart, Brian and Bill. There was one missing. At the top end, Luke looked at them and asked.

─ "Where's Gareth?"

─ "He was having a drink with me – Bart said-. Then he told me that he was going to our place, but when I arrived he wasn't there and..."- He didn’t sound convincing.

─ "Enough words - Sebastian broke in –. We have some more important things to do and it seems that Gareth chickened out. I guess you know why we are here, you scum."

─ "Whereupon you're referring to us – Miguel looked at him challenging-. And we can see that you are starting with a lie. It is a quarter past ten. It is not even eleven o'clock."

─ "We couldn’t wait to give you a good lesson - Sebastian continued-. When Bart and Luke return to their homes, they can’t see you opposite."

─ "I have no problem in seeing them here, Seb."

─ "I don’t like you to say my name."

─ "You have just said mine. They know by now that my name is Luke Prancitt and where I live. I have not hidden it."

─ "Neither have I – said Miguel unexpectedly-. My name is Miguel McDawn. Previously I was a lawyer and I can be again. I know that the police will not bother with individuals like you, but I can take care that you spend a long time in jail."

─ "We will have to kill you first then - Sebastian announced-. We are five, and although you are also five, two of you are women and we will soon end this annoyance that you are."

─ "We are not five, Seb. I'm not going to fight."- Luke said.

─ "I hope you know what you are doing. Then four against five. We will manage as we are."

─ "Or four against six. I can fight with them."

─ "That would be betrayal. Be careful what you do, Luke. We could kill you."

br />

   Everything was going too fast, but finally when he had no doubt what it was that was going to happen, Luke ended up finding his courage. Bart looked at him with disgust and his old friend Brian with grief rather than anything else.

─ "I would rather die than kill - and breathing deep and looking at Miguel, he said - I have chosen an army" - and he went to an unlit bonfire very close. The beggars had caught several logs and he caught one too.

─ "Then four against six – Sebastian encouraged himself-. Let's start."

   No light in the street could be perceived when the battle started. They were ten intense minutes, Luke as the last soldier of the army of beggars. The bald men had brought weapons that were scary. All of them had what is known as brass knuckles, which could tear your skin. They had brought daggers and even knives and could do a lot of harm with them. Luke already knew which way he was following and would not allow them to touch the beggars. Bart was going to hit John's face with his brass knuckles and Luke, to prevent it, placed his arm at the right time there, and the cut was for him. His wrist began to bleed a lot, but he continued in the fight. More than one beggar ended up bleeding and Luke usually placed himself as a shield. It was obvious that the bald men were to continue, but increasingly less secure that they could win. But ten minutes later steps began to climb the hill. Miguel then spoke.

─ "That's Maxwell Conrad, a police inspector. I've had him several times as a witness in several trials."

─ "Then for everybody's sake let’s pretend nothing has happened here” - Brian Philisey said.

─ "Was something happening on this hill?" - Then the inspector asked. He came with three more officers.

─ "A friendly discussion, inspector."

─ "You have blood in your arm." - said the policeman looking at Luke.

─ "You can see that we were fetching firewood. I just cut my arm with a splinter."

─ "Nothing happened here as you can see. I'm Miguel McDawn, a lawyer. Maybe you recognize me, Mr. Conrad."

─ "Your face is familiar to me. But it is another matter that brings me here. Who of you is Sebastian Fraser?"

  He came in front.

─ "Me, inspector."- He said shyly. Luke watched Sebastian seeing that he did not seem much surprised, as if he had long been expecting it.

─ "You are arrested for the murder of Agatha Fraser. We have found her corpse hidden in her mother’s house."

─ "I won't say anything, inspector. Long it was that I noticed her disappearance. I guess that I will have a lawyer."

─ "You will"

─ "I will speak in his presence then."

─ "You must accompany us to the police station in Riverside Avenue. It is necessary that you are handcuffed."

   And meekly he let himself be handcuffed. Luke recalled Miguel talking about the price we had to pay for some actions and Sebastian seemed to be willing to pay for it. Brian, Bill and Bart then walked away, the first two apparently relieved that everything had finished without any consequences for them. On the hill were five beggars and Luke heard them thanking him and without being conscious, he sat on the ground and began to cry. Suddenly he felt disgusted of being with those clothes and he did not seem to realize that there were eyes looking at him. Had he thought carefully, he would not have done it, but at that time he didn’t know what he was doing. He pulled down his braces and tore his shirt with such fury that it would be impossible to put it on again. At that time he heard Bruce say a phrase that would be a sentence that he would always remember, an apparent contradiction in terms.

─ "Poor son of a bitch."

   That sentence made him feel angrier with himself. He didn't want to be a son of a bitch or be sympathized, but he did not know who he was. With palpable fury, wanting to somehow eliminate all his past, with rage and disgust he took off his trousers and did everything possible to break them. Just in time he seemed to realize that there were eyes looking at him, and at the bottom of a thick fog, he believed he was seeing an apparition. It was a very beautiful, red-haired woman of fire, like a star that had been climbing Knights Bridge and stops to shine there.

   It seemed clear that she was Olivia’s daughter, who they had mentioned, and with her mother she stopped to talk for a few seconds.

─ "Who's that man, mom? And what has been happening here?"

─ "He is a skinhead and his name is Luke. He climbed here this evening with bad intentions. I wasn't here then, but Miguel has told me. Other skinheads arrived later and there has been a fight. And maybe you don't believe it, but this man has fought with us and against them. The police have been here and have arrested one for murder. Finally, my daughter, everything is very confusing. You will know later."

   Luke was still on the ground, in his underwear, crying a lot, when that wandering star approached him with a smile like a shy sun crossing the fog. Day 18 was dying. But there was half an hour ahead and Luke, in his motif by Verôme, would always remember those fog-laden leaves of that November tree.