yes I know. I have wondered this and have no answers. It's slightly more complicated than that though and so, if you draw up a chair, I will try to explain a little. It seems quite important to do so for some reason.
I had just arrived as a teacher in a tiny remote village (about 350 people) in the country of ______ and we met often. He was neglected, disliked and not trusted in the village. I came across him in all sorts of strange places and each one was different and etched on my memory. The first time I saw him, A___was bouncing on the bed wearing a white cowboy hat in the little bedroom of the son of the teacher (K___)in the village who had employed me and with whom I spent a great deal of time in that first year. A____ was 12 at the time and I was struck by him instantly. [How can one express such 'strikes' without sounding slightly ridiculous?] He came up in the conversation at some point that evening and K____ said to me that if "A____ led his son astray (he clearly didn't trust him) he would "break his arm." Such aggression and mistrust with a 12 year old? I couldnt figure it out!
My next meeting was in the toilets at school during a lesson. I had just arrived (I was only part-time) and was preparing for the next class. A____ was sitting in a corner but jumped up when I came in looking flustered and embarrassed. (He always did.) My heart leapt (he had been on my mind a lot) and I tried to talk to him. I had only been there for a few weeks and was still struggling with the language (despite months of linguaphone) so the conversation was brief but utterly to the point. I asked him where he lived and who his parents were. He knew that I was new in town of course and foreign to boot (it was a tiny village) and his sentence was slow and short for my benefit. I could only recognise two words in the sentence: 'fire' and 'dead' and I couldn't believe that he'd really said what I thought he had. It was enough to indicate that I needed to say how sorry I was as best as I could or at least to look sad. We exchanged friendly smiles and mutual recognition in a way which is much easier when you can't speak the language properly and I went away as normally as I could. After that it was a question of asking about him as casually as possible in conversations with these amazingly hospitable people. (I cannot recall spending an evening alone during that first year.)
It turned out that my worst fears about that half-understood conversation were right, although I never did get the complete story. His parents had lived in another town to the east and were both alcoholics. When he was 7 they somehow set fire to the house whilst they were drunk (so everyone assumed) and had died along with A_____'s brothers and sisters. A____ alone survived (I think he was staying elsewhere at the time.) He was sent to live with his grandparents who lived in my village in a tiny old house on the main road (there were only about three roads in the village.) How I grew to love that funny little house!
The grandfather was despised in the village and hardly ever came out. He too had a real drink problem (it was very common in the village).
I came across A____ everywhere. In the shop, on the road, in the school, at the community hall at every possible event - always there, always looking abashed and diffident, always with other children of course and completely out of my reach unless I approached him directly and there was no reason that I could find to do so. I was the village music teacher and, as a new foreigner, watched fairly closely all of the time. A___ was not musical and, in a way, it was a relief to me that he wasn't.
And so the years passed. Having got so far I might as well tell you how this story 'ends'. A couple of years after my arrival, the headmaster of the school drew me aside and asked if I locked my door when I wasn't at home. I never did. I was living in a couple of rooms above the 'mayor's office with a couple of other teachers and it just didn't seem necessary. He warned me that A_____ was a thief and it might be wise to do so. Looking back, I was ridiculously naive and foolish. I collected money from pupils which I then had to count and take to the 'mayor' at the end of the month. Despite the headmaster's advice I often forgot to lock my door and, one day, I came back to find A____ in my room, looking more abashed and diffident as ever as you can imagine.
It was a strange meeting. I wanted him to stay (once I had recovered from the shock) so we could talk it all through but obviously he was keen to get out as soon as he could. I cannot recall what was actually said but, just before he left, he told me that he was leaving the village soon. (Why did he say that?)
I remember meeting him again in the shop shortly after our strange encounter and asked him why he was leaving. I don't remember him answering anything very much (I think he shrugged his shoulders). Noone else seemed to know either but it was probably because of his thieving. He had recently been confirmed (a rite of passage in the village) and it was a natural time for his grandparents to ask him to move on. When I came back to start teaching again the following September (I always returned to England in the summer) he had gone, apparently to the capital.
About two years later, I too moved to the capital, where I came across him again, now about 15 or 16. [How much this move was motivated by A_____ I wouldn't like to say but it was certainly a factor.] It's a fairly large town but the centre isn't and, because he tended to hang out with his mates at the bus station through which I travelled every day, I occasionally saw him from afar and even bumped into him a couple of times. We would exchange warm smiling greetings and shake hands (we were, after all, both "from the same village"). For my part, I looked out for him every time I passed through that bus station.
My life in the capital was very different to the social whirl of the village. I was alone a great deal and would spend hours in the cafes in town writing my journal (it became my lifeline during that strange time).
One evening I was sitting in my favourite cafe when, all of a sudden, A___ was sat opposite me: as flustered and diffident as ever. He was impeccably polite and apologised for disturbing me while I was writing. 'its not a problem!' I think I replied. It turned out that he wanted to exchange some English money that he had come by into the local currency . . . . That was all, and once the transaction was complete he left with another apology. Goodness knows where he had got the English money from.
About a year later,(1986) I returned to England and never expected to see or hear of him again. After coming online in 1999, I often googled his name without result (I think there cannot be more than four people in the entire world with exactly his name) but about two years ago an article from a ______ newspaper popped up with details of his criminal activities which dated back pretty well to the time he had moved to the capital. The article went on to say that he had been convicted again and would be serving 18 months in prison for various small offences including driving without a licence, possession of cannabis, petty theft . . . . Last year when I googled him again another offence appeared. . .
and so, even now, our paths cross.
This boy was, from the first time I met him, crying out for attention, love, someone who cared, and some kind of stability in his life. He never got it and he never stood a chance.
and my part in all this? Should I, could I have done more? He never asked me for anything and so what could I ever have done?
I am wondering whether to add this . . . .but I will. When I was at music college in the mid 70's I had a vivid dream. At the time I was living in a chaplain's flat with another student. An art group used to meet there once a week. If I was around I would join in and paint pictures in a jungian kind of way. I painted the end of my dream (the bit just before you wake up in a sweat) and it was of a very dark landscape at night. Bleak and uninhabited except for one little house which was on fire. . . . .
the world is full of people like A_____ but for me he is my special one. I suppose in a way, though I had nothing of A____'s deprivations and so have been able, mostly, to keep my end up in society, I too am one of them. Perhaps it was just a recognition of that same unanswered need? . . . .
well you did ask.