When I Was Young
CHAPTER 1
No father just mother. No one else. Just us. Mother and son. Forever. No one could break the bond of complete love, trust, and commitment between us.
She was a Jew. We were Jews...I knew that. We were persecuted for it. Completely pushed away from the small town that was settled just a few miles from our quiet cottage on a small hill. If you stood at the top of the hill you could see the smoke rising from the chimneys of the cozy little houses and shops that lined the cobbled streets.
We had but one friend that lived among them. His name was Clayton. He might have had a surname...but I never heard of it or cared. Me and my mother always called him by Clayton. I liked him well...he was kind...he taught me how to be a better protector and provider for my mother. He said it was for my benefit...but I always thought he taught me mostly for my mothers safety. He always seemed very attentive to her. I quite often found him gazing at her tall, slender figure...her long, curling, red, golden hair...her pale face and soft features. When she talked with him her words were gentle. Not that she did not already speak gently, but with Clayton...it a different kind of gentle that I had yet to figure out. He in return was the same...I still remember how soft the words fell out of his mouth when he called her name "Adina". Her name Adina fit her well for it meant gentle. If you tried you couldn't find another women more submissive, non selfish, or so gentle as my mother. You couldn't find one evil bone in her body. Why she got herself hooked with the bastard of a man like my deceased father I have no clue.
My father, Shiloh, deserved nothing of her...I knew little about him save for he was a Jew and a criminal. He used my mother as his cover till the day he died. He whored around with any other woman that caught his attention...leaving my mother shamed and unwanted. He was finally caught and hung when I was only three years old. But memories of him were very soon forgotten. Clayton took over as the man of the house. He provided us household things we needed from his shop. We were very thankful for him. Especially my mother...and tried to repay him in every way she could. The way Clayton helped us was a secrete from the rest of the town. No one liked us and I was forbidden to go to school or take part in the church. We had our own worship times and mother taught me as much as she could to give me an education. I knew how to read and write very well as well as my math which I very much enjoyed. She taught me the globe and the cultures. And even though I had never set a foot outside Scotland I felt as if I had traveled the world. I was happy with my life. My mother reminded me always to look for the good in others. To never hate a person and to serve the one who created me. I strove to please her in my actions. I loved her with everything.
Her famous saying that she repeated to me often was of this...and I can still hear her peaceful words, "Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood." Those words have stuck with me always. And have helped me to the day I was swung threw the air in front of a screaming crowd.