The Wild Old Man of Borneo

UWW Beginners Short Stories: Prompt 4

Write a story in which the main character finds something valuable while out walking. Show how he/she handles the situation. Include a close friend to whom the main character tells of his/her find. How does the friend react? What is the outcome of the situation? Show the emotional shifts that the main character goes through as the situation unfolds.

Due Date 10/4/05
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The Wild Old Man of Borneo.

Billy woke early, to the sound of his mother’s voice filling the kitchen below. It sounded as though she was upset about something, but then what was new; she had been upset about one thing or another ever since they had moved to the island. Looking out of his bedroom window, Billy could see the craggy shoreline of Bluemull Sound stretching out before him. Closer to home was a flock of island sheep grazing on the springy turf. Whatever had upset his mother again this morning, the island could not be to blame. Although Billy had only lived in one other place in the entirety of his short life, he could not believe that anywhere else in the whole world could be this good.

His mother’s voice was drawing nearer now, and Billy knew she was climbing the stairs. “The bane of my life” she called them, but that was only because they had lived in a block of flats before, and she had forgotten how the lifts were broken more often than they had worked. She arrived at his bedroom door just as he was pulling a sweater over his head, “I suppose you’ve forgotten that I’ve to catch the boat to the mainland at eight.” she said, adjusting the scarf on her head. “The three of you are staying at the Manse for a few nights while I’m away, so make sure you behave.” Billy had not forgotten, how could he? For the past six weeks his mother gone to the mainland on Sunday mornings to see his father who was recovering from pleurisy. His mother had blamed the sheep dip for setting it off, but they all knew that it was the chemicals that dad had worked with in the factory for so long that were to blame.

“Oh, and don’t forget to walk the dog this morning, Billy,” his mother yelled from the front door, “You were the one who wanted her remember.” Billy watched his mother walk up the path to gate, fully expecting her to turn round having remembered something else they must not forget, but she carried on walking. The aroma of pancakes cooking on the griddle greeted Billy as he entered the kitchen. His elder sister Kirsty had her back to him as she neatly flipped the small pale discs. Once they were a golden brown in colour, she would place them on the large blue platter, and serve them with honey or golden syrup. His hunger aroused, Billy drew a chair up to the large pine table and sat down. “There’s milk in the pantry to drink,” Kirsty said, “and these will be ready in a minute. Can you give Jimmy a call?” Billy got himself a tumbler from the dresser, and helped himself to milk from the churn. From the pantry window he saw Jimmy striding across the yard with a basket of eggs from the hen house. No need to call him, Billy figured, he would be here soon enough.

Jimmy scraped his boots on the piece of iron outside the back door before pushing open the screen, “Not as many as last week” he said, poking in the basket of eggs, “but not bad for twenty-four hens.” “Thirty-two,” corrected Kirsty, “ Don’t forget the Leghorns that came over last week.” Billy quickly helped himself to four of the pancakes that his sister had put in the middle of the table, and began spreading them liberally with golden syrup before anyone noticed. “They are steady producers, and in the long run will prove their weight in gold.” Kirsty pronounced dramatically. Ever since they had arrived on the island Kirsty had prided herself on knowing all there was to know about hens, though how those scrawny things running about outside were supposed to be as valuable as gold was beyond him.

The first of the hens had arrived one afternoon during their first week on the island. It was barely ten months ago, and dad had announced at breakfast that the person displaying the keenest observation skills would be in charge of the hens. “What does a chicken do when it has finished scratching?” his father had asked. Thinking carefully, Billy had suddenly beamed at his family, “Eats” he said, “It eats what it has dug up!” “Wrong.” said dad laughing, “Your turn Jimmy.” Jimmy had not known either, but had pretended that as the eldest he would have far more important things to do than look after the hens. “Takes a step backwards!” Kirsty had crowed, and sure enough she had been right. A hen takes a step backwards after scratching, to see what tasty morsel she has unearthed. Kirsty had taken charge of the chickens from that moment onwards, and Billy had watched her become more like her charges with each passing day as she fussed over them.

The list of chores to be completed before supper seemed to grow longer with every minute, and for once Billy was glad to be nearly eight years old, with little to do other than keep out of the way whilst the ‘real’ work was being done. Mostly though, it frustrated him, and he felt the familiar prickle of resentment rising in his chest. “I’m going to take Meg to the beach” he announced, “Mum told me to.” At the sound of her name, the collie leapt from her bed by the stove, and rushed towards him in anticipation, her tail wagging furiously. “Take an apple with you, just in case,” said Kirsty, as Billy took his coat from the rack by the door, “and don’t annoy anyone.” “Don’t annoy anyone” Billy snorted as he crossed the yard and headed off towards the Sound. He knew exactly whom Kirsty was telling him not to anger, and it made him feel cross that she did not seem able to say his name aloud.

Euan Campbell, it seemed, had lived alone on the island for as long as anyone could remember. Forever dressed in a heavy black overcoat and battered brown felt hat, he reminded Billy of a scarecrow. It was not only the birds that gave Euan a wide berth however, the scowl that was permanently etched across his whiskered face was suffice to deter all living creatures. No one knew what Euan did for a living, but he had money right enough judging by the number of Laphroaig cases that came across on the ferry for him each month. He spent most of his time mooching around the rock pools that formed when the tide was out, or holed up in the shack that he called home, never speaking other than to utter the odd curse at anyone who came too close. Billy had come face to face with him only once, but had never forgotten the encounter. Euan, or ‘The Wild Old Man of Borneo’ as Billy had named him, had reared up out of nowhere on the hillside at the back of his shack, and charged at Billy like a stampeding bull, nostrils flaring, and lips drawn back to reveal blackened teeth.

Billy could see him now poking around the shoreline of the Sound, and was glad that Meg was with him. He had hoped that Dougal would be on the beach, for he still had his maths homework to finish before the class tomorrow. Dougal was diligent in everything he did, and many was the Monday morning he had handed Billy homework to copy. He needed the homework urgently today though, for he was staying at the Manse tonight. Dougal, however, was nowhere to be seen. Oh well, he might as well get on and enjoy himself, Billy thought, there was no point in ruining the day on account of some maths problem that he would never need again. Billy was going to be a fisherman, and, like Jamie, would have a boat of his own one day. Billy guessed that Jamie would be asleep right now; his boat had been beached far up on the shoreline, and was ready to go out with the evening tide.

Billy felt an insistent tugging at his coat pocket, and looking down, found Meg gazing expectantly at him, with a large stick in her mouth. “Sorry girl” Billy said, “I guess I haven’t been paying you much attention. Give me the stick then.” Grabbing the wet piece of wood from Meg’s mouth, Billy raised his arm above his head, and with Herculean effort, threw it with all his might. The stick clattered loudly as it collided with rocks twenty feet away, and Meg leapt into action. Repeatedly, Billy threw the stick, only to have it returned to him by a highly delighted Meg. At the next outcrop of rocks, pools had formed, and the two companions pored over each and every crevice, overturning pebbles and shells to see what lay under. Time passed unnoticed until a familiar rumble of hunger reminded Billy of the apple in his pocket. Biting gratefully into its firm flesh, Billy realised that it was long past midday, and that he was overdue back at home.

Slowly, Billy and Meg made their way back along the beach in the direction of the house, stopping now and then to investigate a shell. Closer than Billy had remembered, next to a large rock, and with the sea just starting to swirl around his ankles, stood the Wild Old Man of Borneo. His overcoat flapped in the breeze, and he appeared to be gesticulating at someone, or something. Who else was on the beach? Billy looked everywhere, but the only figures to be seen were those of him and Meg, and Euan Campbell. The water seemed to be rising around quickly around the old man’s legs, and Billy could hardly believe that he had ignored the mid tide cross-current. Whatever it was he did on the beach every day, it must be important for him to risk the current. The old man was shouting something to Billy, but the noise of gulls swooping overhead drowned his words. Perhaps it’s a trick, Billy thought, and he’s intending to drown me.

Meg barked urgently at Billy, bidding him to follow her lead, and made as if to run from the shore. “I can’t” said Billy, “I can’t just leave him; he’ll never make it without our help.” Meg had other ideas however, and continued to retreat from the waves. “Of course,” Billy exclaimed, “Clever girl, I’d forgotten the life belt on Jamie’s boat!” Running towards the boat, Billy was relieved to see that it was listing heavily to one side, making it easier for him to scramble up onto the deck. The life belt was stowed immediately behind the winch that brought the nets onboard, and Billy was soon able to free it from its fixing. It was heavier than he remembered, and difficult to carry, but after a brief struggle getting the belt off the boat, Billy was soon running back to the old man. The belt was too heavy for Billy to throw, so he began wading to the rock to which the man clung. It was not so much the depth, but the pull of the water that caused him to stumble, sending Billy sprawling on all fours. The collie was instantly at his side, nudging him towards the rock.

The Wild Old Man of Borneo was slumped awkwardly against the granite monolith, neither sitting nor standing. Long grey hair mingled with spray from the sea, and lay plastered across his brow. His eyes were closed, and his skin, a curious mixture of yellow and grey, was almost translucent in places. Had a low moan not sounded from his lips, Billy would have thought him dead. “Mister Campbell” Billy ventured, “Let me help get you to the shore.” “Remember your manners.” Billy could hear his mother’s voice. “Always call someone Mister or Mrs, never by their first name.” The old man opened his eyes and stared intently at Billy, before closing them again. After some moments Billy spoke again “Come on Mister Campbell, we need to get to shore, the water is getting deeper by the minute. Put this life belt on, and we’ll get going.” Finally Euan spoke, “Whist lad, it’s nae use, it’s my leg, its bust.” Billy had always imagined that listening to the Wild Old Man of Borneo speak would be like listening to a roaring lion, but his voice came out like a penny whistle, thin and reedy.

The raging bull had gone, and a small, wizened man stood in his place. He was hurt, he was cold and wet, and all his strength had left him. He slumped, naked without the battered felt hat, and motioned for Billy to save himself. “No” said Billy, “We go together.” He pushed the life belt over Euan’s head, and tried to pull his arms through, but a canvas shoulder bag and the overcoat got in the way. “I’ll not leave my bag,” the old man wheezed, “’Tis the treasure. I’ll share it with you boy, but I’ll not leave it.” It was hard to imagine that the dirty canvas bag could hold anything valuable, but Billy had no time to argue, and Euan was clinging to the bag as if his life depended on it. “Okay” said Billy, “You’ll have to help me. If I can pull you to shore, you won’t have to stand, and there’s bound to be a stick you can use on shore.” Euan struggled to raise his arms above his head, but eventually the life belt was firmly in place.
“Just lay back into it.” instructed Billy as he took the other end of the rope to which the life belt was attached, and looped it twice over his shoulder.

Billy walked slowly towards the shore until the rope began to resist, then turned, to take the strain across his back. “Okay,” he called, “I’m going to start pulling.” He doubted that he had been heard, and he doubted that he could achieve his aim, but nonetheless, he started to inch his way backwards, relying on Meg to warn him if he was in danger of slipping. The rope cut into his back with the old man’s weight, and threatened to slip through his fingers, but at last, Billy could see him coming towards him, helped by the incoming movement of the tide. Straining with effort, Billy barely heard the shout from the beach “Hold on lad, I’m with you!” Jamie raced down the beach and, picking Billy up, carried him beyond the reach of the sea. Unwinding the rope, he ran back to the old man, and, seizing him by the shoulders, hauled him to where Billy stood. “His leg’s broken,” said Billy, “He can’t walk.” Don’t you be worrying about that now,” Jamie replied, “Kirsty will be here in a minute with some blankets, and Jimmy’s gone for the doctor. You’ll be fine, you see.” “How?” Billy started to ask, but the words would not come. All of a sudden, tears started to roll down his face; he had been so very, very scared. “Kirsty came looking for you when you didn’t turn up for lunch,” Jamie explained, “It’s a good job your appetite is famous!”


Billy smiled wanly, “How’s he doing?” he asked, nodding at his fellow survivor. At that precise moment, he felt unbelievably sick, and wanted to steer Jamie from all mention of food. “His leg’s broken alright,” Jamie replied, “but he’ll live, thanks to you. Doc will have alerted the lads, and we’ll soon have you both out of here.” He moved as if to check on the old man, but Billy needed to talk. “He told me the treasure’s in his bag. He wouldn’t let go of it. He says he’s going to share it with me.” Billy’s teeth chattered as he spoke. “Euan Campbell doesn’t know the meaning of the word share,” Jamie opined, “and as for filling your head with nonsense about treasure…” his words tailed off, and Billy knew that he had dismissed any idea of treasure as ridiculous. “But,” Billy tried to remonstrate with his friend, but Jamie had turned back to the old man. “You’d better have a good explanation for your antics today,” he said roughly, “endangering the lad’s life and all.” Billy felt angry and hurt. Angry, because he felt that yet again, what he said had not been heard, let alone believed; and hurt because the person who was not listening was supposed to be his friend.

The arrival of his sister with a pile of blankets provided Billy with a much-needed diversion. Allowing Kirsty to remove his coat, swathe him in blankets, and generally fuss around him, obviated the need for speech. Jamie’s outright dismissal of the idea of treasure had shocked Billy, as did the realisation that he was placing his trust in a man who, until today, had been a sworn enemy. The doctor and Jimmy arrived, together with three men carrying a couple of doors between them. The idea, it seemed, was to hoist both Billy and Euan on to the doors, which would act as makeshift stretchers. Billy thought about objecting, after all, he hadn’t broken his leg, but it was simpler to say nothing, and enjoy the experience. The ride reminded Billy of the time they’d ridden on the roller coaster ride at the fairground, when mum and Kirsty had screamed in apparent terror. He doubted than Euan was enjoying the ride much however, for it was unbelievably bumpy. Billy resolved to speak to Euan again, as soon as they were on their own. It made no sense to hang on to the bag if there was nothing valuable inside, only a madman would have risked his life for a worthless item…

Billy woke with a start when he was lifted from the door. He had suffered no ill effects from his ordeal, other than a few bruises it seemed. That and the cold. The doctor had prescribed a few days rest in warm surroundings, and plenty to eat. Euan had not fared so well. His leg was broken in two places, and he had been in the water for longer. That, and the fact that he was an old man, meant that he was being flown to hospital on the mainland to recover. The emergency services had been contacted and were expected within the hour. In the meantime, however, Euan wanted to speak to him. The doctor led Billy to a room similar to the one he had just left, and with the words “Don’t be plotting any more escapades now, the two of you”, shut the door quietly behind him. Euan was lying on a single bed with crisp white sheets in the corner of the room. His overcoat was hanging over the back of a chair, but he had retained his grip on his bag. Although his eyes remained closed, Billy went closer to the bed. “Hello Mister Campbell.” Opening his eyes, the old man looked at Billy “Name’s Euan to my friends,” he said brusquely, “Need you to do something for me lad, look after the bag for me.” “Sure” said Billy, his heart swelling as Euan’s words sunk in. Friends! As he took the bag from Euan, the old man spoke again, “The treasure’s there right enough lad, just look beyond the surface.”
Look beyond the surface, Billy mused, what did Euan mean? It was the sort of riddle his dad loved to pose, nonsensical at first, but simple once you knew the answer. Billy wished that he could see his dad; life seemed extremely complicated at the moment, and Billy just knew that his dad could sort it all out. His first priority though, had to be to see what was inside Euan’s bag. What it was was hard and lumpy. It didn’t weigh much, but it was rough and uneven. Unbuckling the brass tipped canvas strap, Billy peered inside. Some treasure, all the bag held was a knife with a five-inch blade, and a dozen or so shells! Hearing someone approach his room, Billy concealed the bag in the small cupboard beside his bed. Jamie’s disbelief had shaken him, and he wasn’t prepared to try out sharing his secret again just yet. Besides, there wasn’t really anything to share, just a few shells, and a riddle. No, at the moment his best plan was to keep quiet.

The door opened to reveal his sister, and Mrs MacDonald, the minister’s wife. They had brought a large tray, on which sat a bowl of soup, some slices of bread, and a mug of cocoa. Billy tucked in hungrily, but was surprised to find he couldn’t finish his meal. An overwhelming sleepiness came over him, and although he struggled, he couldn’t keep his eyes from closing. “Look beyond the surface, Beauty is more than skin deep you know.” Billy could hear his father’s voice speaking to him, but saw only the Wild Old Man of Borneo charging furiously up the hillside towards him. Huge shells opened and closed before him, each trying to swallow him up. The shells! Billy sat up in the bed, suddenly wide- awake. He had to open the shells with the knife; he had to look beyond the surface!
Sliding down from the bed, Billy took Euan’s bag from the cupboard. There was a glimmer of moonlight from the window, so Billy took the knife, and tried to prise one of the shells open. It was not easy, and the shell cut into his hand, but finally it was open. Inside lay a small, almost milky sphere, which glistened as it caught the light. Excitedly, Billy set about opening the remaining shells. Some of them contained nothing; others had the same small spheres inside. Out of twelve shells, eight had produced what Billy was sure was some sort of gemstone, not diamonds or rubies perhaps, but definitely treasure! Just wait until he told dad the news!