Under The Surface

When you have been a resident in a slaughter house there is never any way out of the madness . Alcohol offers an escape but when you have been a resident of alcoholism, the whispers that haunt you keep you a prisoner and lock themselves deep inside your personal asylum . If I could whisper you a word of warning . Rude as you may think I am I don’t seek any refuge in your slaughter house because I am an innocent lamb who has strayed among the wolves . Caught up by misfortune and carried by a tide of confusion I was swept up at the doorsteps of hell . As a homeless refugee I was found by the Salvation Army in the heart of London . For two weeks I had been on the receiving end of a terrible cruelty and I had experienced the most inhumane treatment care of some very bitter angry men of the highest criminal degree . They were the dogs who prowled the streets of hell itself in London . From the very pits of hell they surfaced and for what its worth , never let those sleeping dogs lie . Dogs should not sleep with kings . Wolves should never rest with lambs . The hounds of hell hate life and anyone who holds it dear . They prowl around in hungry groups looking to devour anything decent , anyone innocent and they are savages on their very own little island . Their goal is to imprison victims on their island and make them suffer .

Why ?

Because they are castaways of life and do not want anybody to live happily ever after . On their island of sorrow they do not permit you to escape . You cannot swim the tide because there are too many rocks just under the surface that would cut you into little pieces .

I’ll try to explain to you the two week experience I had trying to escape the darkness of Blackfriars .

At this time, inside the homeless shelter, there were about two hundred and fifty men . Regular dregs from the docklands . These Steamboats had enough hellfire in their veins to keep the fires of hell burning for an eternity . There were the very coals of hell itself . I’m sure if and when they get there ,they are bound to enjoy the experience .

I’m talking about some of the hardest men I’ve ever come across in the world . If you ran into them you would surely know exactly what I’m talking about .

Total savages .

Let me tell you now about these people as honestly and precise as I can .

My first day homeless at the doorsteps of hell was a haze . After being robbed and bashed on the streets I was hungry cold and half conscious .

I remember lying on an upstairs bed in the refuge . My bed was right next to the bathroom and toilets . Every so often you would hear these shuffling feet drift past you . They would slide back and forward into the bathroom and after a while they returned to their single beds in the dormitory . When I was strong enough to stand on my feet I made my way down stairs to the canteen . A large number of homeless men walked around in their looking for a cigarette and asking anyone if they had one . I obliged .

Their slow agony I could empathize with . The daily torture of an existence was a torment I also lived . Unsure and unable to carry a conversation . Not understanding what had happened to them . Not knowing what to do about their plight and how to cope with it . Not identifying with who they were anymore . Not really aware of what was going on around them . They had lost control of their minds and could no longer do any thing to help themselves . They were disliked and unwanted by all including themselves . They were bums and boozers .Life was just a cheap excuse for their existence on earth . Anyone who didn’t agree with them or if you didn’t accept how they lived ,then you paid the price for that .

In a cruel kind of way this crazy community had a code and right of law . There were top dogs and ringleaders . Then there were the victims and prisoners of their rule . One of the uncontrollable monsters that we will call John was the hard and vicious top dog . Leader of the pack . He was lean mean and unclean . He punished a cold society who pointed the finger at him and tagged him a well established alcoholic . A criminal .

Anyone who looked even sideways at John could have been in danger of being totally destroyed . John was a man without conscience . He had an evil looking face that never smiled and scars ran along side the wrinkles . A pair of heavy rimmed black frames held two thick lens . These spectacles from another era sat in front of his eyes . If you tried to look deep enough behind them you would see the doorway to hell itself . John only spoke when spoken to and there were not many people who ever spoke to him . His words when they came hit you like poison blow darts that went straight into your heart . John was always surrounded by henchmen who had enough muscle to keep hell itself at bay . John’s main minder was Gerry and then there was Joe who watched Gerrys back . It was no secret that they carried guns and they did whatever they wanted . John was in control of things . The entire place was riddled with the pain and punishment dealt out over the years by this alcoholic hit squad . This mob manipulated their muscle and other groups fell into line . This fear was the driving force that brought friction among the ganglands of London . They collected debts and finalized people who couldn’t pay up . They could inflict pain on anyone they chose . They never blinked an eye at the inhumanity of it all . Punishment came in various levels .

Orders were given by John and they were to be followed . His cohorts numbered numbskulls and drunks , high society and business men , warlords and freaks and the list goes on and on .

The moment that I became a resident under the roof of this shelter I was not liked at all . I had been judged and a sentence was passed . I was so out of place among them and could feel the cancer spread over me like a death ship waiting to sail . Each day I waited for it to come .

It was because I was straight . Not like them at all . I just never fitted in with them . The nights were the worst . I never slept for fear of having my throat cut . Nights without sleep were starting to wear me out . I couldn’t keep this going for much longer and decided to look for a squat someplace .

Each morning I escaped into London’s busy streets . I walked around London with my eyes peeled for anything that resembled a squat . I hoped and prayed something would present itself .

The generous corners of Covent Garden came towards me as a man reached out his hand ,
”Merry Christmas “: He said .
‘Merry Christmas to you too “

I answered .

God I thought to myself ,was it really Christmas already .

“Come on and I’ll buy you a pint .“

The stranger said .

I followed him down through the crowd into a pub full of people . He sat down at a table with a group of people who seemed to know him and ordered two pints . Then somebody sang a song .
We all joined in a few bars of some Christmas Carols and the atmosphere was warm . After each song another pint arrived . The day turned into a great night and when the pub shut everyone made their way out on to the footpath . I followed the crowd that gathered into a queue waiting for a taxi cab

The cabbies were pulling up and taking off at regular intervals .

I was a stranger in the midst but somehow I had a weird connection there with them .

Although I had no friends or a place to stay just for a moment in time it was great to be in the company of some of the local London lads and ladies .

As the night wore on the queue got smaller and smaller until I was standing there alone with no money and no hope of catching a taxi .

So I headed off down through unfamiliar streets into a part of town where I had never been before . It was Christmas on the rocks and all the pubs had closed .

I wandered along by the River Thames with the snow falling softly on my head and coming towards me was a young man having great difficulty staying on his feet . As he got closer to me his swaying back and forward made it impossible for him to stay on his feet .

Over he went . I ran to grab him before he fell into the Thames .

I placed my arms over his shoulder and took him by the hand and said ,
“Let me help you . Where do you live .“

He muttered something about a council flat and I looked through his wallet .

“Hey what are you doing ?”
He asked .

“Don’t worry my friend . I’m going to get you home .“

I found some ID and an address in his wallet .and there was some money in his wallet to get a taxi . I flagged down the first cabbie I saw and soon had him back to the block of flats and after putting him on the lift we made it to the front door of his council flat . I found a key in his trouser pocket that fitted the lock and had him home safe .

“There now . I’ve opened your door and your back safe tonight aren’t you ?”
Where are you going now “ He asked .

“I don’t really know .”

I said .

“Neither do I ”

He answered .

We both fell asleep and I awoke in the morning on the floor beside this complete stranger . He eventually opened his eyes and asked ,

“Hi . Who are you ?“

I replied ,

“Just a friend who brought you home .“

“I had a great night . Didn’t I ?”

“I think you did .“

I said getting up to leave .

“Where are you going .“
He asked .

To get back to the shelter .” I replied .

“Where’s that.”

“Sally Anns “ I answered .

“You’re kidding aren’t you .“

“No . That’s where I’m staying .“

“Why don’t you come in and stay with me. I have a great big place with two bedrooms . You can stay as long as you like “.

I was so grateful of the offer . It was a real Christmas present . Finally I had a place other than a bed in the dreg Capital of the world .

I collected the little I had from Sally Anns and brought those items back into the flat . I had a large bedroom . There were blankets on the bed and a pillow for my head . That first night was special . I was thankful of shelter other than sleeping with eyes wide open .

Just before I went to sleep my flat mate knocked on the bedroom door .

“I’m Pat .”

He said .

“Ok thanks Pat . I’m Paul .“

“Good night “ he said .

“What’s the time ?” I asked .

“Time for me to hit the town “ He said .

“Thanks again Pat .”

He closed the door and I lay down and closed my eyes . it felt like heaven . With a roof over my head and me tucked up in a soft warm bed , I wanted that moment to last forever . I held each second tightly and as I floated off to sleep I listened to the wind . It was howling and the rain spat on the window pane . You’ll not have me tonight Blackfriar John.

I said to the night silence .

In the morning when I got up it was quiet . The flat was empty .

There was no sign of Pat . I walked in to the kitchen and looked in all the cupboards . That’s strange I thought to myself .
There was no food and all . The fridge had a hob nail boot and some old socks . There was nothing at all to be found . Not a sound could be heard anywhere . I was alone in this big flat for three days .

Pat retuned one evening as if he had never been away ,

He sat down on the sofa and talked and talked and talked .
I listened as he told me about his love for music .

Especially reggae and hip house techno .
He produced a cassette from his pocket and put it into his cassette player on the floor by the fire . Every song was dissected by Pat . Every beat was him and he seemed to understand a lot about music . I listened hard .
I grew to love a new feel for reggae day and found new depth to the music .

That evening Pat was getting ready to go out .
“I’ll get my hole to-night” He said .
Off he went like a man on a mission into town . I stayed home and played some of music . I found a guitar in the broom closet and picked a few strings until my eyes were heavy . Then I walked off and fell into bed .

I was hungry and hated going to sleep with my stomach rolling and turning over . But happy to have safe shelter .
At least I had a roof over my head and a bed to lie on .
The next morning I woke to find Pat snoring in the other room .
The snoring was loud but I could live with that . After all it was his place .
After he got up he told me he was going to visit his Mother that day .
He seemed nervous and spoke about his problem .

“I know you’ve got a problem Pat .”

I said .

“It’s the drink. “

Said Pat , who started to cry .

I put my arms on his shoulders and said ,
”There are people out there who can help you Pat . All you have to do is knock on their door .”

“If only I could eat some lunch, everything would be all right “
‘Pat .” I said .

“You’ve got to try to get some food into your stomach . It’s easy don’t worry , after the first bite, it gets easier, you’ll see . Come on try for me Pat will you ? “ I said .

He looked up and nodded his head and said ,.
“I will then and after I do I’m going to get my hole and bring her back here.”

“Now you’re talking Pat . “

I said .

The day passed slowly and my hunger pains were getting worse .
It felt like six months since I had eaten and with no money I was a lost in knowing what to do . I was lost in a lost world waiting for a way out .

But I had an address and something to work from . It was much easier now to get organised .. My time sleeping rough on the streets had brought me a lot of new material for Steamboats and all I had to do was write it all down ..

I knew I had to get it down before I forgot it . I even thought about tomorrow with a positive attitude .
Yes the new year was going to be promising .

That evening I wrote a lot . I wrote chapter after chapter . It continued without stopping until I hit the sack .
The next morning Pat came running into my bedroom with a big smile on his face .

”You got your hole Pat ? “

I said .

“No . I eat some of my Mums lunch .“

He replied .

The look his face, was one of of total joy and satisfaction .
I was so happy for him .
All he wanted to do was show his Mum he was able to eat her food .
I told Pat I was writing a book called Steamboats and told him he was going to be in the book . I told him about some of the other steamboats I had met . Pat thought he had a problem until he heard about other peoples problems and then his drink problem never seemed to be as big as he thought . Mind you though Pat was still a long way off from accepting help .

One day out of the blue, Pat told me he was leaving for a job up North . He explained that the rent was paid up for the next two weeks and I could stay on until then .

I thanked him and we said goodbye . He was out and gone that same day . Within an hour of Pat leaving, a loud knock came to the door . I opened the door to see this huge man standing there . He looked like a giant and even spoke like one .
”Is Mr Wilson home. I’m here to collect the rent . “

He said .
“Isn’t it paid up for the next two weeks “ I said .
“No he owes me already for two weeks”

Came the reply .

Gone were the days of me trying to make sense out of things and I answered
“Mr Wilson has just gone over to his Mums house for lunch . Do you know where she lives ?”

”No”

Was the reply .

‘Well he’ll be back in a few hours if you want to wait around . “

I said .

“No thanks . I’ll drop in on my way back from Town this evening . I have an appointment late this afternoon so I’ll have to go there now . “

“Right then we’ll see you later on then .“

I said .

“Ok .“

Said the big man wearing a Berber Jacket and Tweed cap .
As soon as the coast was clear I got out of the flat quick smart and headed off like a lark in the clear sky .

I made straight for the Underground and tore past the ticket collector and on to a tube . I looked at some faces of the people who sat there on the tube .

They looked just as lost as I did .