A New Beginning

© 2012, 2014 Madge Williams. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/14/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4184-1188-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4184-1187-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2004093047

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

About The Author

CHAPTER 1

I t was always fascinating for him to hear and to read stories about people who had lived very difficult lives, somehow were able to overcome all the odds, and at the end became great heroes. It mattered not whether the stories were fictitious; each triumph stirred him deeply.

Nathaniel Douglas was in the midst of his own troubles. It seemed that all his life he had been running, either from something or from someone. He was on the road again, but this time it was different. Deep in his heart he knew that time was running out, and this was his final opportunity to break free from the cold, dreadful chains that for so long had held him captive.

With no one he could turn to and nowhere could he call home, Nathaniel picked his way through the short, razor-sharp grasses and stared despondently ahead. The wide, stagnant water in the Cocrico Swamp was his focus. There in its murkiness, he was determined to end it all. The weight of his empty heart, and all the frustration that had built up inside, drove him forward, one step at a time.

Suddenly, the thought of the alligators that lived in the swamp brought him to a complete halt. Even though he knew that no one would care, Nathaniel did not want to die in the jaws of those ferocious animals. Gigantic waves of fear and disappointment rose up in his heart and crashed, leaving him to descend into an ocean of deeper despair.

Noise in the bushes nearby distracted Nathaniel for a moment. It was the sound of some blackbirds that were busy building their nests. For reasons he could not explain, Nathaniel fastened his gaze on the little creatures, just as if he had never seen them before.

Still a bit taken aback by the sight of the little birds, Nathaniel began to feel a tiny desire in his heart to live. As he listened to the sounds around him and watched the little creatures at work, he felt as if they were speaking directly to him. Nathaniel could not fully explain what was happening at that moment, but he could almost hear the birds saying to him, that it was no easy task to build their nests near the swamp. They seemed to remind him that life was also hard for them, because humans and animals alike would rob them of their eggs and their young ones, yet every season they would bravely come back to build their nests and raise their families.

Nathaniel was touched to his core. There he was, a grown man feeling sorry for himself, while right before his eyes were tiny birds that were so brave and so determined to live. Standing there that moment, Nathaniel finally understood that his struggle for survival would not be easy, and just like the little birds, giving up was not an option. It also came so clear to him, as he stood just a few feet from where he had previously decided would be his open grave, that some great power he had not yet come to know was protecting him from self-destruction.

Nathaniel gently nodded his head as he soaked up the lessons. Soon he felt in his heart that he was ready—ready to overcome all his fears and reach for the future he had dreamed of for a very long time. Keeping the picture of the courageous birds etched in his mind, Nathaniel turned around and slowly walked away, leaving Cocrico Swamp behind.

He continued to walk down the narrow foot track, which made a very good shortcut to the village. For the first time in a long time, Nathaniel was feeling a bit hopeful. Already he was making a mental list of all the people and places that he would visit in order to get his life back on track. The picture in his head was such a perfect one that he began to click his fingers as he whistled one of his favorite calypso songs.

Nathaniel was still caught up in the moment when all of a sudden he froze in his tracks. A large groo-groo patch stood directly before him. As far back as he could remember, this had always been the place along the shortcut to the village that made him afraid. He always went to whatever length that was needed to avoid the eerie-looking trees that grew in thick clusters with their hideous branches covered with long, black needles.

Whether it was superstition or reality, Nathaniel did not know for sure. The only thing that mattered at the moment was the stories he had heard about the evil spirits that lived among the trees. These spirits, he remembered, were capable of doing much harm to humans. There were even stories that the old-timers from the village had told about men who were reported missing, only to be found many days later lying unconscious and covered with sharp needles in the very spot Nathaniel was standing on. As if the needles in their flesh were not bad enough, the victims did not even have the foggiest idea what had happened before. Nathaniel tried his best to push the horrible stories out of his mind. He was determined to press on.

Had Nathaniel remembered that he was in the path of the terrifying groo-groo patch, he would have turned around and followed another trail to the village. But now it was too late. Then it came to his mind what the old folks had told him to do if he was ever near the trees. A slight feeling of unbelief crossed his mind, but the fear that had gripped his heart was too real for him not to continue with what he had been told.

With trembling hands, Nathaniel picked two blades of the razor-sharp grass that grew alongside the foot track and formed a perfect little cross, just the way he was shown. His mind still clouded with fear, Nathaniel began to mumble whatever he remembered of the prayers that he was taught.

A huge, black cloud hurriedly passed overhead, and the shadow that it cast on the ground seemed to settle in Nathaniel’s heart. He did not know why, but slowly it became almost impossible for him to stay on his feet. He felt like his knees had turned to jelly.

Nathaniel could not remember how long he had been standing there, but he knew that whatever was amid the trees would soon emerge, and he would be in serious trouble.

Suddenly he heard a sound like branches breaking in the wind. To his dismay, the sound was coming from between the groo-groo trees. A gust of cold breeze blew against his already shaking body, and Nathaniel began to feel sick to his stomach. With all the strength he could muster, Nathaniel tried to continue his petition, but he had forgotten the words to say. Without even thinking, Nathaniel broke the rule. He dropped the cross, and took off running as fast as his legs could carry him.

He was out of breath by the time he made the last bend in the narrow foot track. Nathaniel could hear his heart still beating in his chest as he huffed and puffed toward a huge mango tree at the edge of the village. There in its shade and far away from the groo-groo patch, he decided to sit and rest for a while.

Before Nathaniel could really savor his great escape, another huge rain-cloud glided slowly overhead. At the same time, Nathaniel heard the sound of thunder in the distance. In dismay he watched the brilliant sunlight give way to darkness all around, and all the birds flew away to safety from the approaching storm. But the storm was not only around him, Nathaniel could feel the weight of the black clouds of hopelessness settle in his heart. Like a thick blanket the clouds began to cover the tiny flicker of hope that he had previously been clinging to.

Presently a fierce battle had begun in Nathaniel’s mind. He was trying his hardest to think about something heroic that he had previously read in a book or seen in the movies, but the enemy was formidable. In vain he struggled to remember the lesson that he had learned from the blackbirds. Sadly, it had all been erased when the darkness spread over his mind. Nathaniel was powerless as the strong arms of gloom and depression swung violently at him. Before long he had completely lost the battle. As he lay wounded in a heap on the ground, he could feel his jaw tighten as he remembered…

*          *          *

His father had died unexpectedly when he was only ten years old, and he was left to help his sickly mother take care of his younger brothers and sisters. His mother had tried the best that she could to keep him in school, but as time went on and the financial problems in the home increased, Nathaniel was forced to quit school and go to work at odd jobs that he could find in the village. He tightened his fists in rage as he remembered the awful treatment that he had endured from some of the very people who had made promises to help him and his family.

He remembered the times when all the boys in the neighborhood were playing a good game of cricket or playing with their marbles or swimming in the river, and there he was with a garden hoe weeding in somebody’s yard, or bringing water in a bucket on his head to fill up their barrels. He remembered the frustration he felt inside when everyone told him that they expected him to walk in his father’s shoes and be the man in his home.

Nathaniel felt pain in his heart as the memories of his childhood continued to surface. He could not forget his desperation to get away from home and from everybody. At age fifteen, with twenty dollars in his pocket that he had saved from his meager wages, and a plastic bag filled with some clothes, he ran away from home in search of a better life.

Those had been scary times for a child. He remembered the despondency that clung to his heart as he walked around from village to village without a penny in his pocket or a friend that he could talk to. Because he had been brought up with some moral values, he struggled hard to keep himself from stealing.

Nathaniel could not forget how depressing nighttime would be. It was hard enough to endure hunger and loneliness in the daytime, but it was doubly hard to sleep in an abandoned car or in an old building when he thought about his warm bed at home. He cringed as his mind went back to the night he took shelter from a rainstorm in an old, rickety outhouse. He could see himself again, standing as straight as an arrow in a corner, with his heart pounding, expecting to be viciously attacked any second by another destitute human being like himself, or to be bitten by a snake.

His days had been more of the same. Every day he would move about from village to village, doing odd jobs when he could, or collecting empty beer bottles in an old onion bag to sell at the local depot. With loneliness as his constant companion, Nathaniel soon found solace in alcohol and later in marijuana. To keep up his new lifestyle, he pushed aside all the moral values he had learned from his mother and began to live the life of a criminal. It was not too long before he was arrested for breaking into someone’s home and stealing a propane tank and a radio.

His arrest and all that followed came flooding back in his mind. He could see himself, a frightened teenager standing alone, crying his heart out in the courtroom, the day that he heard the judge sentence him to the Youth Disciplinary Center. As he was led out of the courtroom to the waiting car, Nathaniel made himself two promises: he would never stand condemned in a courtroom again, and he would change his lifestyle.

While he was in the youth center, Nathaniel heard about a communal home in the city. A fellow inmate told him stories about the home, and Nathaniel had fixed his mind on joining the group as soon as he was released.

Just then, Nathaniel remembered that hot sunny afternoon, when he had pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket for the umpteenth time and looked at the address written on it. He had been walking up and down the same street for quite a while, and he was tired and confused because he could not see the sign that would let him know he was at