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    Ajax and Me
    Ajax and Me
    Ajax and Me
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    Ajax and Me

    By Glen Strong

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Ajax and Me is a glimpse into the lives of “boys being boys” and a fast-paced tale of adventure and misadventure written by a Métis author. As it addresses issues of friendship, bullying, gangs, family, life, death, right and wrong, the story speaks to the hearts of young and old alike. Let Gordon, Ajax, Corky and the gang take you along for the ride of their lives!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRichard Langlais
    Release dateNov 13, 2013
    ISBN9780986809668
    Ajax and Me

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      Book preview

      Ajax and Me - Glen Strong

      The Riverf

      The River

      Ajax!

      There was no sound. No one answered.

      Ajaaaaax! I screamed again as loud as I could. My fear was finally gone. The shaking had ended.

      From this vantage point I couldn’t see a thing. It was dark already and the shadows didn’t help. The roar was almost deafening. What was it? Rapids? Not falls I hoped. Where was he?

      Should I call his name again? What if they hear me? Could they hear me above this roar? Could Ajax hear me, thinking that it was unsafe to answer? I can’t just sit hear shivering. I’ve got to look for him. Maybe he slipped in. We both went for quite a tumble. I could feel the welt across my cheek, probably from a branch. There was a goose egg on my shin. I hate it, the way an injury like that can weaken the whole body. You’d think the shin was the most vulnerable part of the anatomy.

      Listen!

      Was that him? I fought the urge to call his name. It came from over there. Limping forward, I struggled to adjust my eyes. Bending over, I waved my arms like tentacles, trying to make up for the inadequacy of my vision.

      Aaaagh! Splash!

      The sudden chill made me gasp, but I quickly held what breath I had, knowing I was going under. I kicked wildly, thrashing my arms and trying to surface. The current was dragging me somewhere.

      Finally! Oxygen!

      Swim! I told myself, through instinct or panic. Which way? It all looked the same. The moonless night didn’t offer any hints. Then my forearm struck something solid. I scratched and kicked again, this time knowing I was at the edge. The river continued to pull at me, tearing the skin on the ends of my fingers with every grasp. Luckily a slick crevice allowed me to hold on, my legs being stretched out in the direction of the current. I slapped at the bedrock hoping for a grip higher up. Gaining another hold, I pulled with all my strength and flipped a leg onto the edge. My boot heel ensured a secure spot, a pocket etched into the dark rock. With do-or-die struggling, I dragged my numb frame out of that icy liquid thunder.

      I lay there trying to regain my breath, realizing the weight of my soaked clothing as I sat up. Standing, I suddenly remembered the goose egg on my shin. My head was spinning as I staggered up the bank away from the river’s roar. Then I noticed a black form directly in front of me. I froze for a moment, then cautiously approached it. A tree! Lunging forward I hugged the bark like a friend; somehow its wooden diameter made me feel secure. I knew I was lucky to be alive.

      I heard a clicking sound—the chattering of my teeth. Shivering uncontrollably, I began to remove my articles of clothing. Stepping away from the tree trunk, I wrung out what water I could. The strenuous wringing had warmed me slightly, so I hesitated when I began to dress. After weighing the pros and cons I decided it was best that I be clothed. The intense shivering began again as soon as the wetness touched me.

      I was about fifty feet away from the river, yet it was still all I could hear. There was no use trying to call out for Ajax anymore, not with the constant roar.

      I would need a fire if I wanted to get warm and dry my clothes. Worrying whether it would be wise to have a fire in case they spotted it, or whether Ajax could use it to locate me—both were a waste of time. The matches I had were history.

      By my judgment, we left the arcade at 11:30 or so. That would make it around 1:00 o’clock in the morning. The sun would start coming up within a couple of hours. It was probably best that I wait until I could at least see a way to get out of there and back up the side of the mountain. I’d start searching around for Ajax then.

      I was sure he fell right behind me. I had heard him. Maybe he somehow hung on and was up the mountain somewhere, wondering where I was. I decided to wait.

      I reached back and touched the base of the tree. Lying down, I curled into a ball with my hands between my legs searching for warmth. The sour stench of wet leather hit my nose. My boots were the only thing I hadn’t put back on. I hoped they would dry out a little before daylight. I’d need them!

      I could almost make out the large boughs above me. The tree—almost like another tree that I knew when I was so much younger. That’s where I had first met Ajax…

      02 We Meet Ajax drawing

      We Meet Ajax

      It’s a twenty-five dollar fine if you’re caught climbing it.

      Twenty-five dollars for climbing a tree? I don’t believe it.

      I was talking to Corky, a roly-poly kid who lived in the North Flat of Brown, our hometown. I’d been to his house a few times. His street sign read Water Street and I could never understand why, because the North Flat didn’t have running water. The rest of the town had the service, but not the North Flat. Going inside Corky’s house was like entering another world, where being punished for having a messy room was never a rule. We would enter Corky’s bedroom through an outside door that was perched on top of a hill. The hill rose halfway up the rear wall of the two-story structure, allowing for the extra entrance. Somehow that gave it the appearance of a barn more than a dwelling.

      Brown Map

      The odour in his room would strike me right away. There were piles of discarded clothing everywhere. Filth-stained mattresses lay sheetless on the floor. It was nothing like the crisp, scented bedding and dust-free surroundings that I had become accustomed to. Corky shared the room with Richard, his younger brother.

      Mom works at the bakery in town, he told me once, as an excuse. She starts at 5:00 in the morning and needs to sleep when she gets home.

      I had often wondered if the lack of running water resulted in his lifestyle. Despite all this, on that day under the tree his shirt was as white as mine. The collar bore the stiffness of starch, and even his bow tie was positioned properly. These were part of our school uniforms. Boys wore black pants, white shirts, and a bow tie. The girls wore black tunics and a white blouse.

      Boost me up, I demanded. The lowest of the branches were too high for me to reach.

      No way Man! replied Corky. I don’t want anything to do with it. I haven’t got twenty-five bucks to spare.

      Who came up with such a dumb rule anyway? I questioned.

      Some kid fell out of it a few years ago and it’s been a law ever since, Corky answered, his head turning from side to side, scanning the area. I heard Jason got caught in it. Someone reported him and his Mom and Dad had to pay the twenty-five bucks, he whispered.

      There were protruding knobs in various spots around the massive trunk, the result of pruning the lower branches. It was easily the largest tree in town and it sat near the centre of Memorial Park. Its towering height was the first thing that was spotted as you drove into town.

      I spat into the palms of my hands, putting on a macho show for Corky. Rubbing them together and approaching the base, I scouted for the proper holds. Jumping up the trunk, I hung onto a large protruding knob only to quickly let go and fall back to the ground. My hands were covered with sticky sap. I pushed them together letting the ooze squeeze through my fingers, and then attempted to pull them apart.

      Yuck! squirmed Corky, and we giggled.

      The

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