Crooked Lives Straightening Out

I'm not sure if you've noticed, but life - our lives - don't actually seem to go in a tidy, straight-line sequence. We do one thing and then another and then another and then something happens that connects to the first event and then something connects us back to event 21 and then event 16 rears it's head again. Things we do that seem so inconsequential or irrelevant at one time have a lovely way of returning and showing us their consequences and relevance - we just don't ever know when that will be.

Writing a book is a bit like that, I've found. I found myself happily writing away for days or weeks on end and then, when I come to read it all back to myself, I realise the whole sequence of events is stuffed up. So, over the last two weeks, I have written nothing - I've just been rearranging the whole book so it runs in a tidy sequence, time-wise … and now I feel better, untwisted and ready to write again!

Merry Christmas to you all!

And now to the next gripping 1,000 words in Arthur's story, continued from the previous blog ...

"Martin! Martin!" came Joan's voice through the small cocoon of maleness. "Stop Martin. I think he's badly injured."

"And what was he about to do to you, Mum?" Martin shot back angrily.
"Martin, he can't do us any harm now," said Joan standing up. "Have a little compassion, son."

"But he's …"

"But he's in a lot of pain, he's tied by the feet and his arms probably don't work," said Joan, pointing out the logic of the situation. "Help him on to this chair, tie his feet to it and we can see what's next."
Martin and Dalek were obviously ready to inflict more pain on this bad man. They looked at each other in brotherly connection, shook their heads sadly and lifted Toby to a sitting position on the chair with less gentleness than they could have managed. Toby's legs were tied to the chair and when Dalek grabbed his left arm, Toby let out another ceiling-rattling scream.

"Stop! Stop!" yelled Joan, pushing Dalek aside. "We've gone far enough. Here, Dottie, you were a nurse. Can you look at Toby's arm, please?"

"It's my shoulder," whispered Toby, looking ashen and pained.

"You be careful, lady, he bad man," said Dalek, hovering helpfully behind her.

"No Dalek … is that your name, Dalek?" asked Joan. "I'm Joan, this is Dottie and my son Martin." As Dottie gently manoeuvred Toby's arm on to his lap, Dalek and Martin shook hands.
"Please meet you," said Dalek, his ferocity softening a little.
"Now Dalek, he's not a bad man. He just did a bad thing and he won't do it again," said Joan with obvious conviction.
"Not bad man, just bad things," said Dalek as if chewing the new idea over. "So I stay if another bad thing he do."
"Yes, it's great to have your protection," said Martin, alternatively rubbing his sore cheek and tenderly checking his painful finger.
"Ah, Mr Arthur, I have paper for you in van," said Dalek.
"Paper?" asked Arthur.
"Yes, paper on Mr Atkinson … Lord Atkinson," said Dalek. "You know, paper in bag."
"Ah, the Atkinson file!" said Arthur as the realisation hit him. "You took it out of the bag?"
"Yes, I think bad thing to happen so I take from bag when you no look," said Dalek. "For your protection, Mr Arthur."
"Ah Dalek, you're a genius!" said Arthur.
"Me genius … genius, what is this word?" asked Dalek.
"Oh, ah, you're brilliant, big brain, Dalek! Said Arthur, tapping his head.
"Ah, me genius, big brain!" said Dalek beaming as he gave Arthur a bear hug.
"Oh Dalek," said Arthur, his words muffled by Dalek, "can you get the file now, please, now that Toby is disabled?"
"Yes Mr Arthur, I go now," said Dalek as he bounded out to get the papers.
"Whew!" said Arthur as he collected himself and got his breath back. He could hear faint sobbing and turned to see Toby looking distressed.
"Dad, I think he's in more pain than we thought," said Martin, sounding worried.
"I think it's a dislocated shoulder - painful but not fatal," said Dottie efficiently. "I'll put him in a sling and we'll get him down to the medical centre. Do you have material for a sling, Joan?"
"Mmm, probably," said Joan as she led Dottie off to find something suitable.
"I'm really sorry …" came a murmur from Toby's direction.
"What?" asked Arthur and Martin in unison.
"I'm really sorry, guys," said Toby, weakly. Joan and Dottie returned with a table cloth and Dottie had it quickly folded and tied up to hold Toby's arm, with accompanying grimaces from Toby.

"Thank you Dottie," said Toby, falteringly. "Thank you all for being so kind. I was not so kind to you at all."

"It was nothing. In fact, it didn't happen, if we're to believe A Course in Miracles," said Joan, smiling.

"Oh it happened alright! Look at Dalek's eyes - both black," said Toby with a little force than before, as Dalek returned with Arthur's file. "My punch to his kidneys damaged them, temporarily, making it black round his eyes. It happened alright!"

"So you little man punch big man and I go down?" asked Dalek with obvious admiration as he handed Arthur the file. "So you teach me that trick or I break your face!" Dalek burst out laughing.

Arthur was shocked but realised it must be Dalek's rough good humour. He was still wary of the big man and so were the others, judging by the way they obediently laughed along with him.

"No problem, Dalek mate, when I get my arm working again, said Toby smiling uncertainly. "But … but I feel so stupid causing all this, thinking I could take advantage of you folk for a quick and large buck."

"A quick buck?" asked Arthur.

"Yes, after we had those two chaps apprehended at work, the word must have got around and a chap with a rough, gravely voice asked me if I would like £2,000 for a morning's work."

"And you have no idea who this was?" asked Martin.

"Not sure … ow! But he put half the money into my account immediately as a show of faith," said Toby shifting on the chair as the others sat down round him. "He paid two thugs to get the files from the office … oh, of course, Arthur, you were there and escaped!"

"Ah, those two," said Arthur as a tremble up his spine accompanied the memory's return.

"Yes, those two," said Toby. "Well, they didn't get the files and I guess this Mr Gravelly Voice thought I had inside knowledge, coupled with discovering I disarmed his two bovver boys with knife and gun."
"You disarmed two armed men?" asked Martin with surprise.

"Well, sort of," said Toby, smiling. "Actually, they kinda' handed the gun and knife over and I took advantage of their clumsiness."

27 - Believing In Science?

Many years ago science - based on the need to prove that God lived on Earth - proved that everything went round the earth. It was only when Galileo questioned the whole rationale, that it was discovered that science was wrong.

For many years, scientists proved that it was impossible for a human being to run a mile in under four minutes. Then, in 1954, Roger Bannister ran the mile in 3 minutes and 59.4 seconds. In the last 50 years the mile record has been lowered by almost 17 seconds.

Science is currently proving that our naughty emissions are causing global warming and all sorts of terrible climate change effects. At the same time, Mars has developed two rivers (that were never there before) and is undergoing massive climate change. I guess we either:

1. Need to tell the Martians to stop using aerosol sprays and burning petrol, or

2. Realise that it's not all about us (as Galileo suggested) and that there are forces far greater than us controlling things.

I'm just waiting for science to prove that science doesn't exist and they got it all wrong … most of the time. I could be waiting for a long time, though!

Now, will Arthur believe what Mary has to tell him? Their story is continued from the previous blog ...

"Oh," said Arthur, wondering why he should be privy to this information. The feeling about that was not good.

"However, what the man in the street didn't twig to was that the people at the Bank of England who were supposed to be looking after his interests were the same people employed at the FSA," said Mary, obviously keen to tell the entire story. "You see, the government is quite happy for 1,600 honest, industrious steel workers to lose their jobs in Redcar, in the north of England, but it's unwilling to let millionaire bankers lose their luxurious lifestyles - lifestyles they put in jeopardy by their own gross negligence and greed."

"Gosh," said Arthur, feeling increasingly uneasy. He sat forward as if to rise, hoping to staunch Mary's verbal flow.

"No Arthur, it's important you know this," said Mary. "Now, as you now know, the bank that committed the worst of these financial excesses - blind avarice at its worst - comes from my own fair Scotland. And they have their own employee in power and when Mr Brown makes a big enough fool of himself, they'll appoint another Scot - probably a McDougal, McIntyre or some other Scottish name - to the post. God forbid that an Englishman should rule England!"

"But our politicians are voted in, not appointed!" exclaimed Arthur, appalled at Mary's story.

"OK, Arthur, which bank got the biggest payout from the British government?" asked Mary.

"Ah, the Royal Bank of Scotland, I think," said Arthur.

"And which bank had committed the greatest of the financial atrocities?" asked Mary.

"The RBS?" Arthur asked, tentatively.

"Exactly!" said Mary. "The Scots own the best bank in Britain so there's no need to act responsibly or professionally. The executives can continue to pay themselves their millions, annually, and throw away billions on bad investments, knowing they can always milk the cow that never dries up - the government coffers which they control!"

"And I thought the English beat the Scots!" said Arthur, chuckling and feeling more than a little queezy at these startling disclosures.

"Yes they did, Arthur," said Mary.  "The English beat the Scots with their guns and then built their mansions and huge estates from the huge incomes they made from the land they stole from us. But we beat them with our money - our loyal British government has ensured that few of those huge, wealthy estates are now financially viable. So, do you know who now owns most of these defunct estates - who has obtained the finance from Her Majesty's Most Loyal government to finance the purchase of them at bargain prices and now make huge profits from showing them to the millions of gawping tourists?"

"The National Trust?" suggested Arthur.

"And who actually owns the National trust?" asked Mary.

"Not the Scots, surely?" asked Arthur, incredulous.

"I'll leave you to do your own research on that," said Mary, smiling.

"It's just the same in the US. After Pearl Harbour, the Americans beat the Japanese with their guns and now the Japanese - well, the Asians, generally - own America. They've disassembled the American car industry and taken it over and, at the moment the US owes China $900 billion and Japan $770 billion. They're the biggest lenders to the US, owning around 44% of it, and so they're the pipers who call the tune, so to speak. America is insolvent and will never be able to repay the debt, just as England is insolvent and will never be able to repay Scotland's debt. The bankers, the lenders are in charge! Anyway, we digress - back to our little problem with Lord Atkinson."

"But all the politicians and, well, everyone else, seem to be such good people. Such believable people. Surely this doesn't happen in our civilised society?" asked Arthur, wondering how he'd missed all this and what else was out there, lurking … waiting for him to stumble over.

"Yes, we would all like to think so," said Mary, smiling sadly. "However, when you move in the financial circles Sam Lord and others do, you'll see the reality is that the banks have their silk-gloved gauntlets firmly found the throats of every senior politician - all very gentlemanly and proper but if any makes a wrong move, says the wrong thing, that steel gauntlet closes and our protective police department can be relied on to create all sorts of havoc in a man's life!"

"No, Mary, not the police too!" said Arthur in disbelief.

"Look at the facts, Arthur," said Mary, leaning forward. "Every time a politician looks like stepping over that invisible line, there's a police investigation … a messy police investigation and no conclusion or resolution. No one's brought to trial. The poor man just has his property invaded, turned upside down, his name put to question and he quickly falls back into line or disappears like the homosexual magician."

"Homosexual magician?"

"He disappeared with a poof!" said Mary, chuckling, while Arthur realised it was a joke he didn't quite get. "Anyway, without going into any more detail just now, Arthur, you need to understand why we're treating this whole case so seriously."
"The Atkinson case?"

"Just so," said Mary. "Those who are supposed to be there to protect us just may not be on our side when the chips are down. I just ask that you be careful who you speak to about this."

"Oh," said Arthur, with real words failing him and a sense of foreboding descending on him and his world.

"So, anyway, enough of that!" said Mary, sitting back a little. "The fact is, Arthur, one of our politicians seems to have upset one of our banks - or maybe a few - and the FSA, doing its real job, is out to put a stop to his shenanigans."

"Which politician is this?"

"We don't know yet, or what he's done," said Mary, shaking her head. "I suppose we will, in time and, ten years later, we'll all hear the real story … ah, enough of my cynicism. To the matter at hand."