It was 1842. I was a happy man. Being middle-aged was not as bad as others warned me about. Of course, life was hard. We lived in a time when so many people were struggling to get by. It was a time when the ordinary person had to work from dusk to dawn. After they worked hard, they would live in a small house with no comforts. The worse fear was if the weather made their life unbearable. Still living at this time was exciting. There were so many new things. The locomotive made the world a smaller place. In the cities, new factories were sprouting up. It made me think about what life would be like in a century. Would it be less simple than it is now? Would it be a place where we could buy everything at a shop and not depend on help from neighbours? Would society be a more selfish society?
I admit that think too much. I always did and used this talent to write books. My stories usually were about the social inequality and hardships in life. These stories proved to be popular, as it seemed as if people liked to read about people in misfortune and hard times. If one of my stories were about a child living in poverty and being a victim of society, it would bring tears to their eyes and be thankful that their children lived a better life. Writing stories was an escape for me. It was also my statement to the world, that a civilized world would never allow child labour, a child in a workhouse or a child that never knew love. I enjoyed shocking people and making them think. Maybe my stories would wake some people up to make a change!
You can understand why people thought I was a pessimist. Maybe I was. I did not like being around other people. People went so much up in religion, Some people's religion was God, while others had money and status as a religion. I often had to sigh when I have seen how people treated each other. They would be best friends when they were together with someone. When that person was not there, he or she would be the victim of gossip or jealousy. The same people that could not treat others with an ounce of respect went to Church every Sunday to show how Christian they were. These same people never tried to make the world a better place. They would make an excuse that anything bad that happened was a punishment from God. Society was so hypocritical.
I loved life and the simplicity of it when I was by myself. I was never lonely as there was always something to do. My writing kept me busy. Otherwise, I would cook and do other daily chores. In my spare time, I would go fishing and enjoy the quietness of nature. I do realize that people would look at this lifestyle as being a hermit and a loner. Some people may even think that I was a strange man for having this lifestyle. They thought that I was not as good as them, because I never went to Church. The bottom line is that I disagreed with them. I never hurt a soul, I prayed when I was in nature. I was happy with my life. After all, is that what life is all about… finding happiness?
I was not all alone. There was a woman my age that lived close to me. Her name was Miss Sullivan, She was the only human being that lived close to me, otherwise, I lived in the middle of nowhere. Miss Sullivan would visit me once in a while. She thought it was her duty to make sure that I ate proper food once in a while. We would have lively discussions and she would tell me what she thought of my stories. In all honesty, I enjoyed her visits. She was a spinster and never talked about romance. This suited me fine, as I had no intentions of committing myself to marriage. Luckily Miss Sullivan also thought the same.
I just finished a book. Miss Sullivan gave me a lot of compliments and thought it was one of my best yet. It was a child that lived during the witch hunts in Salem, and the people thought that the child was a witch. It was a scary story and the fact that it was based on reality made it scarier. The book showed how humans hid behind superstitions and used superstition and religious fanaticism to have an excuse to make others suffer. I was relieved that Miss Sullivan liked it as the book was darker than the books that I usually wrote. We had a great discussion after which we used the book to analyse society and how sad it was at times. It reminded me that I was so lucky that I lived the life that I did, away from people that would be nice to me until I turned my back. Little did I know that my life would drastically change, whether I liked it or not!
So now that you know a bit about me and you know my background, you will be delighted to know that the story begins here. Now the book was done, I had to take a trip into town and meet the publisher. The town was small and had everything that I needed. The publisher knew that I hated cities, so he was kind enough to meet me in town. I dreaded and hated every time that I would go to town. The people would give me strange looks and act surprised that I was still alive. I could meet the priest there that would remind me it has been some time since he had seen me at Church. I would see the children look at me with fear. I bet their parents told them to be careful of me as I was an unmarried man that lived by himself. It made me smile that some people would think that I was some monster.
I noticed people standing outside a small tent. A man dressed like a circus director was telling people that for a few coins, they could see a savage. This savage was wild as he was raised by apes in a jungle. This got my attention so I paid a few coins and entered the dark tent. I was shocked at what I saw, It was a little boy in a cage. He was so dirty and only had a loin cloth on. His hair was long, dirty and tangled. He had never had it cut. I could not believe what I have seen. There was some bread beside him and a bowl with water. The boy had nothing except the straw that bedded the cage.
It did not help that people looked at him with fascination and fear. They thought it was good that he was locked in the cage because he was dangerous. Some started hitting the cage with their canes while others were throwing what they could at the cage. This only made the boy go insane as he hopped around the cage and made growling noises that sounded more like a dog than a boy that lived with apes. This performance made everyone jump back and they commented on how wild he was and that it was good the savage boy was locked up. I did not move. For a brief amount of time, the boy stopped and crawled into a corner. I looked around and saw the circus director standing there with his cane raised. This seemed enough for the boy to hide in the corner and shake with fear.
In that brief moment, the boy looked at me. Our eyes were locked on each other. I always believed that eyes could tell stories. When I looked into the boy's eyes, I could not see that he was wild or savage. I could see a small boy that was afraid for his life. He was a boy locked up in a cage to be treated like a wild savage. He was a boy that received no compassion and love. His life was to be an attraction in a freak show. Animals at zoos had a better life than he had.
I could see the injustice here and wondered why no one else could see it.
After the bizarre show, I spoke with the circus director. He told me in a very proud manner that he saved the boy
“This savage should thank me” he explained, “he was forced to live with apes and live the most horrible life until he was saved by a missionary. The problem was how could this boy live with human beings when he was so wild and dangerous. I have done my Christian duty by taking care of this child and providing him with food and shelter!”
This upset me so much that I did not even respond to the circus director. If this story was true, the boy needed compassion and love, He needed understanding. He needed the right food and the right clothes and learn how he could be a member of society. This man who kept a small human boy in captivity had no heart. I knew that I could not argue with him about the inhumane treatment of the boy. He considered the boy a freak and a means to get rich. There was no reasoning with a man that did not care about human suffering and placed money above all else.
I stayed in town for a few days while the publisher looked at the book I sent him. To be honest, I could not concentrate during the meetings with the publisher. I cannot remember anything he said. He could have suggested that the whole book would be changed and I would just agree. My mind was elsewhere.
It did not help that the wild savage boy was the talk of the town. People would talk about how he lived with Apes and how this made him go wild and it was good that he was in a cage. The worse thing, according to the people of the town, was that the boy was never raised in believing in God. He lived with animals and did not learn what the Bible said. I found this hypocritical. These people who considered themselves good Christians approved of a small helpless boy being locked in a cage like some animal and considered a freak! Again I ask you, where is the love and compassion of society?
All this made me think about what would become of this boy. What would he be like as he became older? I could not see any hope for him. He would be in a cage for life being presented as an ape boy or an ape-man. He will be ridiculed and people would think that he was just a freak. His life in captivity would be one where he had no freedom and could not enjoy the good things that life had to offer. The worse thing is there would be no hope.
The day I was scheduled to leave town, there was a lot of commotion in town. It appeared as if the boy had escaped his cage. This made the people very afraid. They were worried that the wild boy would attack their children and cause havoc in town. The circus director offered a substantial reward for the capture of the boy. He reminded them that the boy was wild and dangerous. I will be honest. I was delighted that the boy escaped. I was sure that the escape did not make the boy's life any easier, but at least it gave the boy freedom and some hope!
When I was home, Miss Sullivan visited me. She wanted to hear what the publisher thought about the book. The only thing I could talk about was the wild boy being held captive. To my relief, Miss Sullivan could see the injustice. She thought that society had a duty to protect the vulnerable and those that needed help, especially children! When I told Miss Sullivan that the boy escaped, she was delighted and hoped that a nice couple would shelter the boy and raise him with the love and protection he deserved.
I had to get back to my normal life. This meant a routine of daily chores and working on a new book. I decided that I would relax after all the drama in town. The wild boy's fate was in God’s hands and there was nothing I could do about it. I went fishing which is my favourite hobby. Besides the peace and tranquillity, there was a chance that I could catch some fish for supper. I spent most of the afternoon fishing.
When I got home, I wanted to put my fishing stuff in a small shed I have next to the house. When I opened the door, I got a shock… the wild boy sitting in a corner in the shed.
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