Scapegoat

Scapegoat

         Screams of outrage and hatred followed Billy as he ran terrified through the town. Gasping for breath, he neared the outskirts and the relative safety of the surrounding countryside. If he could survive the night, perhaps he could right some of the wrongs that tore at his guilt ridden soul.

         Rounding the corner, he caught his first glimpse of freedom, the void of darkness and loneliness earned by the sins he carried. His steps meandered to a crawl; then stopped as he faced his fate.

         As the raised voices of the villagers closed in around him, images of their owners crowded Billy’s thoughts. These people had shared the most intimate details of their lives and revealed to him the lofty heights of their joy, and the depths of their deepest despair. None knew them as he did, yet as the guilt crushed down on him and his mind turned to their enraged, condemning faces, his understanding of himself faded and dimmed further.

         Footsteps thundered towards him and a stone bruised the tendon at the back of his knee. Turning he saw little Eddie Forrester, the butchers son. Eddie, covered in mud and cuts, limping around barefoot in the field he went to play in each day, crying as the other boys chant and tease. He begs them to give his shoes back, then turns his pleading look on me. I lower my head and walk away... As Billy tried to form words, Eddie bent to grab another stone.

         Billy fled, heart pounding as he heard other pursuers round the corner.

         “Quick he’s just there, come on,” Emily’s voice was shrill with the excitement of the chase. Sweet Emily, beloved wife. The look of shock on her face when she caught us, the look of betrayal. She didn’t listen to my explanations, she didn’t even waste time packing. Just went; went and left me with my guilt…

         Without a backward glance, Billy shot past the last house and disappeared into the blanketing darkness. The sounds of pursuit faded as he distanced himself from the town.

*****

         Billy curled on the grass in the lee of the cliff, unmindful of the storm that raged around him. A kaleidoscope of images flashed before his eyes as ghosts of past sins mingled with a variety of memories. Tired and desolate, refusing to close his eyes for fear of the horrors his dreams might bring, his unseeing eyes stared straight ahead, as his mind tried to untangle the disjointed mass of memories.

         The other boys urge me on, eyes sparkling with excitement. I creep forward, eyes riveted on the house, searching for some sign of movement. Seeing none, I rush the last few feet before hurling the clod of mud at the window, then run, throwing myself behind the bushes before I can be caught…

         Why can’t I please him? What am I doing wrong? There must be something…

         The pie looks so good. Surely the shopkeeper wouldn’t miss one little pie. I glance around to make sure nobody is watching, snatch the pie and shove it into my pocket…

         She looks so beautiful, walking down the aisle. Emily’s eyes gleam with hope as she stands beside me, a shy smile twitching the corners of her mouth as she reaches to take my hand…

         Dad places his hand on my shoulder. “We’re so proud of you son,” he says, smiling as he pulls me into a hug…

         Kyle Hemlock, what a dream. Sweat runs down his chest in rivulets as he raises the axe, muscles bunching for his powerful downward stroke. My breath shortens and a tingling sensation spreads through my body as I watch him, taking in every contour of his body…

         I should tell her? She has a right to know, but what’s the point? She probably wouldn’t believe me. No, better to let it lie, telling her would only cause trouble…

         Crying, I push the berries into my mouth, chewing and swallowing. We can’t afford another child, we struggle to feed the ones we have. There is no choice…

         In a haze of emotional exhaustion, Billy’s eyes slowly closed as he succumbed to sleeps embrace.

*****

         The harsh bleating roused Billy from his sleep. His nostrils flared as he opened his eyes. Noting the thick scent of musk in the air, he staggered to his feet and turned toward the challenging buck, cursing the severed rope that dangled from his neck.

         Strange memories plagued Billy’s mind. The strange antics and indefinable bleatings of the two legged hairless ones. Shaking his head to clear his mind, Billy pawed at the ground, before lowering his head to return the other ram’s challenge.

*****

'And the Goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities unto a Land not inhabited.' (Leviticus XVI, 22)

http://www.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/online/pre-raphaelites/scapegoat.asp