Ducks By The Lake [Part Three: Different Worlds]

The kindness of strangers...

You could look in to the Third Band areas. Just as easily as you could look into the Peak areas. You just go across your area and look at each. And you'd see such a stark contrast when you looked in. If you can imagine the Second Band area having slightly modern decor throughout its architecture and its general aesthetics, while the Third Band areas looked like, for lack of a better example, the Jewish Ghettos of old that you sometimes see in history books. A squalid place full of rubbish, dirt and sewage. How the people in there survived I'll never know.

If you went across the Second Band areas to look through the fences and borders into the Peak area you'd see marvelous architecture. Mansions, top notch detached houses and 5 star apartments with swimming pools, bars and acres of land. A completely different place than to the one less than 2 miles across town. I've already mentioned that Peaks and Second Banders could mix but no-one could mix with the Third Banders. That'd be like...bestiality or something. Nobody would dare to! They were like the lepers in the time of Jesus, ostracized and hated by society for no other reason than existing.

I often used to go to the fences just to stare into what seemed to be the abyss. I used to belong to this group before everyone got segregated. For the first few years of my life I was on benefits, in low-rent housing and ostracized, but then my dad got a better job and we went up the "social ladder" as he used to describe it. I'm glad he did. Although I have almost complete sympathy for Third Banders, I often go to the fence to remind myself how lucky I am today. To be who I am, how lucky I am to have Freya and the kids. Which sounds kind of harsh I know but I see the conditions they have to live in and I'm glad that I have a cosy house in the Second Band area with a cosy little family and a dog. I have a life that many of these people could only dream of.

And it's weird knowing that they won't have the same opportunity my dad did all those years ago. If my dad hadn't have been promoted then I'd have been in this position. I don't know about Freya. She was already "middle class" so her lifestyle was already secure so I don't know. But I can't imagine my life without Freya even now. But none of these people would even be considered for a promotion now! No-one would dare offer a Third Bander the chance to better his or her life and that of their families. Imagine the Christmas parties...

I always went to the same part of the fence when I visited it. It was in the middle of small park with luscious grass and greenery which is a nice calm oasis to the chaos of the rest of the town. So, more often than not, I'd get my lunch and take it down there, just so I could watch the Third Banders live their solitary lives. Most of the time there weren't any major incidents when I observed them. You'd get the odd fight at the boozer between a couple of drunkards but nothing much beyond that. Sometimes, I'd even narrate the events in my head like a wildlife documentary to pass the time and to make light of a situation in my head.

"And here, we have the two males communicating angrily. Third Banders often use this kind of rhetoric when disgruntled in order to scare the other, sometimes to great effect. Especially when one of their females are under threat from another. If the scare tactic doesn't work, then the Third Banders will adopt another style of confrontation, but only as a last primal resort. They have duel to the death. Or at most a minor treatable maiming..."

But I remember there was one day where there was no macho duel or minor maiming. In fact, I didn't see anything...initially. But as I was just thinking of packing up and going back home, I heard some scuffling from further down the fence as well as angry voices.

"YOU THINK YOU'RE SPECIAL? YOU THINK YOU'RE SO CLEVER? WHAT MAKES YOU SO FUCKING DIFFERENT?!"

I looked to where I could hear the voices coming from. It was down a wide alley way where the fence continued. I'd never ventured down there before because, well, I'd never needed to until now it seemed.

"I SAID, WHAT MAKES YOU SO FUCKING DIFFERENT, HUH? ANSWER ME!"

I didn't plan on getting involved that day, but God only knows what would've if I hadn't! The voices appeared to get angrier the more I thought about whether or not I should involve myself in the affair. But, I think I can only say that, my better (and somewhat curious) nature got the better of me. I walked towards the voices, wondering what I'd find down there. Was I about to witness a murder or something worse? There were stories about gangs in the Third Band areas who would go out and pick on individual people for no reason other than something they said, or the way they looked at someone. Like some kind of disturbed mafia. But I couldn't help but think of these stories. If they had guns, I was going to be in the firing line just for walking in on them. And I seemed perfectly ok with it in my head. Oddly.

I got closer and closer still. My heart raced faster and faster as the voices got louder and louder.

"THAT DON'T CUT IT! WHY SHOULD WE TRUST YOU?"

There was a pause before I heard a second voice.

"Please...I never meant to cause you trouble!"

This was a gang reprisal. I stopped for a moment and thought very carefully about what my next move was going to be. If I carried on and showed myself, there was every possibility that I'd be shot and killed. If I turned back now, that person might be killed and I'd never be able to live with myself if I knew that I could've helped him.

"OH, TROUBLE DOESN'T EVEN BEGIN TO COVER IT, WIRE!"

I came to the end of the alleyway. I looked around the corner on the other side of the fence and I saw three big men standing around a timid looking teenager. A few moments after I started looking, one of the men kicked the teenager hard in the stomach. Another man (presumably the leader of the troupe) crouched down and looked at the teen.

"Does it hurt? Huh? That's what interests me most. You look like you're in pain...but what if it's up here? In your head?"

The teen comforted his stomach, shaking with fear.

"I don't know what you mean..."

I heard the crouched man laugh again as he rose from his position to look down on him once more.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about...Let's see how many times we can kick you until you can't feel anymore? Call it 'scientific curiosity'."

The teen looked terrified at the prospect. But, before he could say anything in protest, the two big men started to kick him in different places. You could hear him screaming for a short time, but soon it fell silent. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There was no positive spin I could put on this in my head or no funny narration I could caption this with. This was sheer brutality on their part. I'd never seen anything like it before, I'd only ever heard about it in rumor! I didn't think Third Banders were capable of this! It was at this moment that I realised how implicitly racist I'd been in narrating them like a nature documentary. Because it was a completely different environment, a jungle, where anyone will do anything to stay alive. Basic social Darwinism. The survival of the fittest. And, sadly, this young boy didn't seem to be high on the food chain.

After about a minute and a half of solid kicking, the leader called them back. They looked at their victim before leaving him be to rot. I looked again at the young teen who seemed to just lie there, almost like he was sleeping. After a few more moments, I came out of the shadows and walked right up to the fence where I gazed upon him much more. I stood there in shock as I looked at the result of their wild and ferocious attack. My faith in humanity as a race broke at this point.

How could one human do this to another? But then I remembered the social Darwinism. Of course one could. I'd also forgotten, being in my cosy little bubble, that humans could be a brutal people. To be honest, I still don't know why I was surprised. I think it was the fact I'd seen it rather than hearing about it. Seeing is believing.

"Hey...can you hear me?"

I know it seemed ridiculous to ask, but I just wanted to check he was ok in case he wasn't dead. But I didn't get an answer. I asked one more time but still to no avail. He was gone. But I still couldn't believe what I'd seen. I'd never seen anything quite like that in my life. It just showed how different our lives were to theirs. Nothing like that ever happened in our area. It was unheard of. You had some domestics occasionally but not gangland warfare!

I looked at the teen one last time before I turned around and went back to whence I came. I couldn't shift the guilt of not getting involved sooner for the entire walk home or the rest of that night. I was quiet for most of the evening before Freya finally asked me what was wrong with me. She too was shocked when I told her.

"What have I told you about that wretched fence? Time and time again I tell you not to go near it because you never know what could happen! Promise me you won't go there again?"

I knew that she meant well, but maybe this time she was right. I could've died that day. Thankfully I didn't. But next time I might not have been so lucky. So I knew she was right deep down. And, to be honest, it was probably just as well.

Because, next time, the other side of the fence would come to me...