Many years ago his father had sent him away from home to this dump and told him to "be a man and do some good". Well he had tried and what good did it do him. Persecuted. Run out of town. Tortured. He had been completely misunderstood, except by the boys. His gang. They thought he could walk on water.

The local loan-sharks had been ripping everyone off and his boys were going to put things right. Like most plans it had started off well. They were going to take from the rich and give to the poor. When he came into town the word spread fast and the locals welcomed him with palms outstretched, like a returning king. He hated how those that were the most in need were the ones who got the most abuse. He wanted to protect them his way.

He had thought that cops would leave both sides to slug it out, but the new police chief wanted to clean up the town. From now any disturbances would be dealt with exceptional police brutality. His spies were everywhere. The moment his anti-capitalist hi-jinks started they found themselves running for their lives.

His partners in crime were freaking out. They crashed at a safe-house and grabbed a bite. They didn't know it would be the last time they'd all be together. He took a second to remember each of them and how they met. Ordinary men now extraordinary fugitives. The room filled with the excited chatter of their new status and the wine flowed too freely.

Tom had taken him into the garden.

"Boss, I just don't think we will make it" He was shaking.
"Oh, ye of little faith," the boss smiled, "we'll get through."
"But if they find us they'll kill us." Tom diverted his eyes. They both knew it meant that he would have to take the fall. The others would walk. 

A light rain was falling and the smell of evening flowers filled the air.
He had to smile at the pointlessness of it all, "I'll see you in the next life."

He had known who was the gang's weakest link from the very beginning. Funny how even when you have a feeling about something bad you go on regardless. All it took was a few seconds. An empty space in the mind and then the bastard suddenly appeared with the cops and blurting out "He's the boss! It's him!" He had thought it best to go quietly, but the others had tried to fight it out and one of the cops had got slashed. He had ended up trying to hold the guys ear back on while blood spurted everywhere. 

Separated from the lads, his "glorious" career had ended with him being thrown in with "Bill and Ben". Who knew their real names? They were just young guys that had robbed some old folk or something and the judge had thrown the book at them. Since they'd been nailed they had cried continuously.  Nonetheless he could understand how they felt. The court was a circus. The judge had simply washed his hands of him and he had to suffer the injustice of being torn to pieces by the rabble that he tried to help. As he left the courthouse he supposed that was his cross to bear. 

He was really in a mess now. Blood was dripping down his face and he was finding it hard to breathe. He knew the end was near and prepared himself. The crowd was small and dim now and the beautiful sunset was fading like his strength. He took a long look at the nails though his feet, rolled his head back to heaven and cried "Father forgive them for they know not what they have done."


Mark Devlin August 6 2001