Loch of the Island

Driving through the lush pine forest along what felt like a back road really did feel heavenly. The bright sunlight shining through the trees, the occasional view of a great mountain to his right, crossing rivers with mossy stones breaking up the calm clear water, seeing hikers and cyclists everywhere, exploring the beautiful countryside in their brightly coloured clothing. But Harry knew he couldn’t enjoy the surroundings, he wasn’t here for a holiday, he was here for something else. Getting closer to the Loch, he saw a great lake with large river birds swimming and looking for a meal, and a noticeable increase in walkers. Pulling into the car park he was getting nervous, he had saved the most difficult person for last. Turning and removing the key of his Ford Fiesta he had picked up in Glasgow, the three hour drive here was not a comfortable one, with lots of small roads, and lots of farm traffic. Stepping out of the car, his boots crunched on the gravel below, and a fast food cup was hooked out of the footwell by his foot. Looking over at the Loch, he could see clearly the castle he was here for.

Up until two years ago, Harry was a two bit thug, strutting around his community in South Oxford like he owned the place. He would mug people on their way home from work, steal from building sites, and try and rob cash machines. For a few years he had tried to make a name for himself as a gangster, but people just saw him as a despicable person. Now he was trying to make up for it. Realising that there was more to life than robbing old ladies of their pension.

Meandering over to the bank of the Loch, he scoped out the surrounding area. The other side of Loch an Eilein was the Cairngorm mountains; it looked like something out of Lord of the Rings. He could just about make out what looked like tiny brown deer in the distance, running through the woods without a care. In the lake in front of him, just a few hundred meters away was the place he was looking for. Somewhat famous, those who visit the Cairngorms like to photograph the odd and overgrown building situated just off the shore of the lake. When researching the area he heard there once was a tunnel going under the water, but nothing was ever found. Stood there for 400 hundred years, it was out of date when it was built, and was rarely used for anything important, but what a location for it. Harry wandered over to the closest point the Castle was to the land, removing his backpack and getting out a well used sheet of paper. On it was jotted a long list of names, all of which were scribbled out, all but one at the bottom, “Daniel Jones”.

At the peak of his criminal career, Harry had graduated to robbing local shops, and after watching too many mafia films, decided he could make his mark in protection. The only shop he ever tried to do this with was a watchmaker on Cowley Road, and it went badly. It was a small family run business, then in the charge of Daniel Jones, who had inherited it from his father. Harry was drawn in by the shining and perfect mechanisms on display in the window. Descriptions including jewel and Chronometer made it sound like a lucrative business to start. Week by week he would go along and taunt the owner, making unreasonable demands. The police got involved on a few occasions, but couldn’t do anything. Eventually it led to the shop being burned down, and the owner Daniel disappearing. The view of that shop burning was etched in Harry's mind. The bright light flickering, the pop and crackle as electrical wires severed. How did he get to this point, why on Earth was he doing it?

On the shoreline Harry was changing into his trunks. There was no other way to cross. Glancing up into the trees, shading him from the direct sun was a tiny squirrel, much smaller than you usually see, and it was bright red, almost like a fiery colour in the midday sun. It was staring him down, pushing him to get it over with. Harry tied up his holdall, hid it in a small alcove below a tree with sprawling, spider-like roots, and ran over to the water. The cold hit him like a freight train. It was so warm on the shore, but now it felt almost arctic in the water. Knowing he needed to just get on with it, he pushed himself into a front crawl through the slightly murky water, kicking up sediment as he went. It took him just a few minutes to reach the side of the small structure, and it had an odd way of rising up under the water, almost like it had sunk into the lake, and had once been much bigger than it was. Swimming along around he found what looked like a doorway with no door, he grabbed hold of a brick and attempted to pull himself up. One brick came loose, plummeting Harry back into the water, but unhurt, he got up and found a new hand hold and pulled himself up onto the stone encampment inside. Laying on his back, it was exhausting. Taking a moment to relax and catch his breath, the once cool summer breeze now felt chilly and coarse. Now inside the castle, even though it had no roof it felt dark and secluded. Why would somebody come here of all places?

Harry thought back to his road to this point. He had tracked down hundreds of people in the two years after that fire. Each one he felt like he had wronged in some way. Most of them just waved him away like they didn’t even remember him, some slammed their door in his face, but some actually conversed, and gave him their story, and gave forgiveness for the things he had done. Occasionally he would help people in some way, doing odd jobs for them, but by and large, he had tried to get forgiveness from everyone he could. All but Daniel, the final piece in the whole thing, the worst thing he had done, ruining a man's life and his livelihood. Making him run away into the Scottish hills, hundreds of miles away. It took a huge effort to find him, none of his family were forthcoming of his location, but through hard work he had made his way to this point, and now he was just metres away, and the worry was setting in.

Forcing himself to stand up, Harry felt the tiny stones underneath him scrape along his back and side. Leaving a fine white dust that he could see on his shoulder. He surveyed the surroundings and noticed how large the structure was. Not many rooms, but all more imposing than it seemed from the shoreline. He could hear the cracking of a fire nearby, and the low hum of a radio. He went in search. After a few minutes of making his way through rubble and finding a route towards the sounds, he crested over a pile of stone from a fallen wall and saw the small makeshift camp. A dark green tarpaulin covered a corner, with an unmade winter sleeping bag underneath. A makeshift table, made out of a fallen stone block, held the radio he had heard, where crackling sounds of radio 1 were quietly being received, alongside some pre-packaged foods like biscuits and crackers. The fire in the center of the camp was small, and enclosed in a small metallic box, with a neat contraption designed to hold a small frying pan, currently frying two eggs. Beside the fire, sitting on another stone, facing away from Harry was the man he was here to see. The side of the building he was facing was broken down slightly, and some sort of ivy of greenery had overtaken the wall, but probably held it together over all these years. It gave a great sight of the mountain in the distance, and on a day like today it looked glorious, but that was not what he was here for.

“I saw you swimming over, you know. It looked cold as hell”. Announced the figure by the fire. Without even turning round. “You didn’t have to come all this way to find me, you know”.

“How did you know I was coming?” replied Harry with confusion. The figure waved a mobile phone over his shoulder.

“There are some creature comforts here,” said Daniel, turning round to see the visitor. “You can come over, there is plenty of room”, and Harry scrambled over the rubble knocking rocks behind him, and made his way over to the small fire box.

“This is a bit far from home for you” said Daniel as Harry sat down opposite him.

“I came to find you,” looking down towards the frying food.

“Why’s that?” replied Daniel.

“I need to apologise, in person.”

“You don;t have anything to say sorry for.” Harry looked confused at this comment.

“What do you mean, I destroyed your life, your business. I made you run hundreds of miles away. All the way to bloody Scotland!”

“You came all this way too. If it was so terrible, why did you make the journey?” replied Daniel in a cryptic tone, also looking towards the fire.

“Because I need your forgiveness Daniel, I made your life hell.”

“I don’t think you came here for my forgiveness.”

“But.. of course I did”

“Well there isn’t any here for you”

“Is there anything I can do to get you to forgive me?” pleaded Harry.

“No” said Daniel matter of fact.

Harry, dejected, got up and walked towards the rubble pile he came in from.

“Just take a look at that for a second.” Daniel gestured towards the lowered wall he was looking at. “It’s a beautiful view.” Harry looked towards the mountain. “For the last 6 months I have looked up at that every morning, and every evening. It puts it all in perspective.” Harry, admiring the view, tried to take it in, but his mind was still on the rejection. “You see Harry, you didn’t ruin anything, sure, at the time it was painful, but when I look back, you saved me. Saved me from a life I didn’t enjoy, a business and responsibility I didn’t want. You gave me a way out.” Harry looked at him slightly confused. “You see Harry, there is no forgiveness here from me, because I don’t need to forgive you for anything.” A tear was welling up in Harry's eye, as he looked up towards the mountain. “I think the only forgiveness you need is from yourself. Now sit down and have some breakfast with me. Don’t they represent new life or something”. Letting out a chuckle, he sat down, feeling a weight off of his shoulders, for the first time in a long time.