Merry Christmas Johnny Reid

Groundskeeper Clay took a step outside and took in a deep breath of the crisp December air. It was a cold, clear winter’s morning. The sun shone brightly in the azure sky, freshly fallen snow created a cozy blanket for all who slumbered underneath. Yes, it was a very peaceful morning.

"Oi! Quit gawkin'!" Barked the gruff guard causing Groundskeeper Clay to be curtly disturbed from his contemplations of the beautiful morn. A quick jab on his back rattled his shackles and acted as an unwelcome reminder of his current predicament. It had been an uncomfortable couple of days as he awaited trial. The cell they had put him in was cramped and in poor conditions. The smell was putrid as there was only a bucket for his waste, which the guards couldn't be bothered to empty regularly, and the cold dirt floor was highly uncomfortable with only straw for his bed. Yet here the day had come, on this beautiful Christmas Eve morning Groundskeeper Clay was to stand trial for the murder of the Priest.

Sun streamed into the stuffy courtroom from the dusty windows. Being inside the packed room was overwhelming to Groundskeeper Clay. He was more accustomed to working outside in his much-welcomed solitude. Groundskeeper Clay gazed around the courtroom, almost everyone in town was there. This was unsurprising, even if it was Christmas Eve, murder wasn’t something that happened in this small town very often. In fact, Groundskeeper Clay couldn’t think of a single time in his long life that he’d ever heard of something so outrageous happening in this town. This wasn’t London after all, where murders happened all the time. No, here in this charming village nothing bad ever seemed to happen. As Groundskeeper Clay looked around the courtroom he noticed some of the congregation were looking at him with contempt, some with disgust, and others were paying attention to the Judge as he spoke. There was a small group of ladies, of about three or four who were huddled together quietly crying. Not for him though. No, Groundskeeper Clay knew that no one would be there for him. Those tears were for the Priest. Unlike Groundskeeper Clay, who was only noticed in the community on the rare occasion that someone bumped into him as he worked, the Priest was a beloved man. He was kind and compassionate, and being the Priest of the only church in town, he was very well known. As Groundskeeper Clay continued to glance over the crowd one person in particular caught his eye. How could he not, for it was the boy of the only dark-complected family in town, Johnny Reid. Yes, Groundskeeper Clay recognized this boy alright. He was the only person in the community who had ever paid any attention to him, well before this unfortunate incident anyway.

Groundskeeper Clay was out early one Sunday morning shoveling snow outside the church as it fell. After years of being the groundskeeper for the church, Groundskeeper Clay could tell when a winter storm was going to be particularly heavy, and this was one of those times. All wrapped up in his woolen winter gear, Groundskeeper Clay went to work shoveling the snow that quickly piled up around the church. He knew that the parishioners would need to have a clear path to get to Sunday services, so he arrived particularly early battling the persistent snowflakes. He didn’t mind though, Groundskeepr Clay enjoyed his job. He got to work outside in the fresh air, unbothered by other people, well for the most part that is. On occasion, he would be pestered by a young Johnny Reid. Yes, Johnny Reid was a troubled young fellow. He skulked around town as if everyone who crossed him was out to get him, and he would take his frustrations out on those he saw as weak. Groundskeeper Clay was somehow the favourite subject of Johnny's torments. Johnny would do things such as stomp on his freshly planted flowers in the spring and then push him over as he bent down to fix them. He would often call Groundskeeper Clay names or even, at times when Johnny was in a great deal of distress, go so far as to rough Groundskeeper Clay up leaving him a bit bruised and sore. As Johnny increased in his teenage years his torments grew and the harsher he would punish Groundskeeper Clay for it.

No one intervened in this however, no one dared. A reckless boy without a father, whose mother was too busy trying to work enough to make ends meet to ever keep a watchful eye on her son. All this led to Johnny becoming an outcast, and no one wanted to associate with an outcast. No one except the Priest. Whenever the Priest saw Johnny ruining the Groundskeeper’s work or causing a public disturbance he would always say,

“Now Johnny, someone needs to strike the fear of God into you boy”. The Priest would then take Johnny alone into the church where he would admonish Johnny of his sinful ways. Johnny would then disappear for a while and the Groundskeeper would be able to work in peace once again.

On this morning as Groundskeeper Clay toiled away removing the snow from the path, an icy cold bucket of water was dumped on Groundskeeper Clay's head.

“AAAHHH!” Groundskeeper Clay exclaimed as his body shot up straight from the frigid water soaking him down to the bone. Quickly he turned to face his attacker. Johnny stood before him, his face twisted into a snarl,

“What’s the matter, old man! Don’t you ever bathe? I could smell your stench from across the road. Someone had to do somethin’ 'bout it!” Johnny sneered at the Groundskeeper. Just then, with quite unfortunate timing, Groundskeeper Clay lost his balance and slipped on the path that had been turned to ice by the water. He hit the ground with a hard thump, knocking the air out of his lungs. Winded and now on his back, Johnny took this as an opportunity to relieve himself of even more pent-up rage on the old Groundskeeper. While walloping on the Groundskeeper's side Johnny bellowed,

“You ain’t nothin’! You hear me? Nothin’!" Groundskeeper Clay bunched himself into a ball to try and protect his head from the painful blows he was receiving from Johnny. As he laid on his side tears started to form in his eyes, but knowing that would only add fuel to Johnny’s fire Groundskeeper Clay held his cries into himself silently wishing for an end to this attack. After a few minutes of yelling and a great deal of walloping from Johnny, the Priest emerged from the Church building.

"Oh Johnny, looks like someone is going to have to strike the fear of God into you boy." The kindly priest said. At the sound of the Priest's voice, Johnny stopped his attack and stiffened. From the ground Groundskeeper Clay moved his arm slightly from his face and caught a quick glimpse of Johnny's. Johnny looked shocked to have heard the Priest's voice, from the look on Johnny's face it was clear that he thought the priest would not be at the church house so early in the morning. But the Groundskeeper also saw something in Johnny's eyes that he wasn't expecting, absolute terror.

"Come on boy, come on in. You and I need to have a little private chat." Said the priest, beckoning Johnny over with an outstretched arm. Johnny silently turned, head bowed, and slowly approached the entrance of the church where the priest was waiting. When Johnny came within an arm's length the priest put a sure clutch on Johnny's shoulder and directed him into the dark empty church.

Bang! The sharp sound of the judge hitting his gavel broke Groundskeeper Clay from his remembring. The trial was now over, the Judge had just declared Groundskeeper Clay guilty of murder. Groundskeeper Clay awaited his sentencing.

"At midday today, you shall be hanged from the neck until dead." The judge bellowed in an authoritative voice that dared anyone to question his judgement.

A hanging, that's just what Groundskeeper Clay expected the sentence to be. He was being charged for murder after all. Silently he stood up and turned towards the exit. The guard assigned to him prodded him along with the butt of his rifle, his time in the courtroom was over, it was to the gallows with him. Looking up, the Groundskeeper's gaze once again met that of Johnny Reid's who was at the back of the room. Tears brimming from Johnny's eyes, he gave the Groundskeeper a silent remorseful look then he turned and swiftly left.

Midday quickly approached, much more quickly than the Groundskeeper would have liked, considering the circumstances. As Groundskeeper Clay was marched towards the gallows he got a good look at the crowd that had assembled at the town square. The crowd was smaller than the one at the courthouse, with some people who would much rather go about their holiday jubilee than watch a hanging on Christmas Eve. However, a crowd was still to be expected as everyone loves a good hanging, and in this town hangings didn't happen very often. For the majority of his time since the morning of the incident Groundskeeper Clay had been able to keep calm and feel at peace. However, every heavy final step up to the gallows caused a feeling of growing panic to surge within the Groundskeeper's chest. Groundskeeper Clay shut his eyes tight trying to keep his composure, only to have the rest of the events from that dreadful morning flood into his mind.

Groundskeeper Clay lay on the frozen ground, snow slowly blanketing him. Johnny was now gone, having been brought into the church with the priest a few moments before. Groundskeeper Clay was able to shakily get up from the icy walkway. He dusted the snow blanket off of himself and looked for the shovel he had lost with Johnny's most recent attack. When he bent down to pick up the shovel his bones groaned from age. The aches and pains of his body were the only downsides to his employment as a groundskeeper, he thought. But the attacks from that little Johnny Reid sure were taking their toll too. Although, the Groundskeeper paused, little Johnny Ried wasn't so little anymore.

Groundskeeper Clay continued his work shoveling the walkway for the church. Time passed and soon it had been at least half an hour since he saw Johnny go into the church with the Priest. During that time the church had been mostly quiet other than a few muffled noises here and there. By now the sun had started to rise and Groundskeeper Clay knew he had to hurry to finish shoveling the snow before the parishioners arrived for their Sunday services. At that moment the silence of the cold morning air was broken by a blood-curdling scream that came from within the church. Startled and concerned as to what might have happened Groundskeeper Clay dropped his shovel and ran into the dark church.

When Groundskeeper Clay entered the small church house the gruesome sight before him caused him to freeze in his tracks. There was little Johnny hunched over on the floor crying and cowering in the corner. From the dim light streaming in from the lamp posts outside, Groundskeeper Clay could see blood splattered all over Johnny Reid's clothes. And there, not 10 feet away from where Johnny was crouched, was the Priest laying face down in a pool of his own blood, the ax used to split the firewood to keep the church house warm, was firmly implanted in the Priest's head.

"He wouldn't stop," Johnny muttered through a broken breath.

"Normally when he beats me, he stops. But, he just kept goin’ an' goin’." Johnny brought his head down to his knees and buried his head with his arms, through tear-soaked jagged breaths he continued to mutter,

"I just wanted him to stop, why didn't he stop? Why did he hate me? Why wouldn't he stop? Why did he want me dead?... He said my kind was better off dead. I just wanted him to stop. I didn't mean to kill him..." As Johnny sat crouched in the dark church room, illuminated only by the streetlamps and the faint rising sun outside, rocking and muttering through tears, Groundskeeper Clay noticed things about Johnny that he hadn't realized he hadn't noticed before. How long had it been since the Priest first started to have his "private chats" with Johnny? It seemed like it happened every Sunday, ever since Johnny was a little boy. Wasn't it around when his mother had to pick up Sunday work? And then as Johnny got older. How many times did the priest pull Johnny away in the streets? How many black eyes and broken bones had Johnny always seemed to have since then? Now that Groundskeeper Clay was thinking about it, it did seem like the Priest was around Johnny an awful lot. Almost like he had been seeking him out. Looking at Johnny now the Groundskeeper felt his heart sink. He no longer saw the devious young man who would cause trouble just for a laugh. He saw a sad, lonely, broken little boy lashing out at the world that lashed out at him. The muffled sounds of footsteps and the prattle of Sunday worshipers interrupted the Groundskeeper's thoughts.

"They're gonna kill me when they see this aren't they?" Johnny asked, looking up towards the door still open by a crack with puffy red eyes and a wet face. Groundskeeper Clay knew the answer to that was yes. No one would believe that the boy acted in self-defense. The Priest was beloved by all in the community. Yes, little Johnny Reid would surely be put to death. However, looking at him now, small and guilt-ridden, the Groundskeeper couldn't help but feel sorry for the lad. It didn't seem right that a boy, with a whole future ahead of him, should have to have his life cut short simply because of the sins of the Priest. At that moment the old Groundskeeper did something unimaginable even to him.

"Get up Johnny. Come on, get up!" Groundskeeper Clay's raspy voice demanded as he reached for Johnny's hand helping him to his feet. Clutching Johnny by the shoulders, Groundskeeper Clay looked Johnny dead in the eyes and said,

"Now listen to me boy, it ain't right for a boy with so much to live for, to die. So go, run out the back door and don't look back, Johnny Reid! Don't look back!" Johnny hesitated confused as to why this old man, whom Johnny had picked on so mercilessly, would try to save him now, but the sounds of the crowd getting ever closer cut Johnny’s wanderings short. Johnny turned and did as the old Groundskeeper told him, he ran, he ran as fast as he could out the back door of the church, and he didn't look back.

Now alone, Groundskeeper Clay dipped his hands in the old Priest's blood and quickly worked to bloody up his own clothes. Then he took the ax out of the Priest’s head just in time for the first surprised gasps of the Sunday onlookers. The crowd quickly gathered at the doorway to behold the grizzly scene of the Groundskeeper who murdered the priest.

Groundskeeper Clay opened his eyes and beheld the beautiful Christmas Eve day. The sun shone brightly in the azure sky, the winter air crisp, and snow blanketed all those who slumbered underneath, of which Groundskeeper Clay was soon to join. As the noose was placed around his neck, he could hear a far-off crowd of carolers singing of a Merry Christmas. With misty eyes, Groundskeeper Clay swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. Groundskeeper Clay took his final look out over the crowd that had assembled to watch this, his final act. Again his eyes found Johnny's only this time Johnny was standing in front of the crowd instead of the back. As Groundskeeper Clay looked at Johnny failing miserably to hold back his tears, he noticed a change in Johnny. Johnny stood a little taller, his appearance was a little neater, and the look on his face said that he would cause trouble nevermore. Hearing the carols of peace on Earth waft through the otherwise silent air, Groundskeeper Clay also found himself unable to stop the tears from falling from his eyes. He heeded Johnny a smile, and as his last whisper he bade,

"Merry Christmas, Johnny Reid."

Johnny Reid, wiping the tears that had breached his hold, nodded towards what was once a kindly old man, the only person in the whole of that small village to see him, to truly see him. Silently, he thanked the Groundskeeper for all the Merry Christmases his last act had gifted to him.

End