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The Trials of Freddy Dunning
Category:
Drama
An autistic man is taken in by two drug dealers.
1
Lost
He was lost. He wasn’t used to being lost. He was a methodical man whose daily chores did not deviate much from day to day. Yet he could not explain where he was or why he was there that night. Devotion to an ailing mother was his only concern and his current predicament could not help her.
He knew he was in Wigan, the town he was born in fifty-three years ago but he was lost. Dark shadows followed him that night. The suspicious trees whispered but gave no information. Otherwise, it was eerie and silent. He stopped. He looked around. He saw clouds part and the half moon appeared. It gave sufficient light for him to realise he was in a park. But which one?
‘You Okay? You lost?’ a voice approaching from behind said in a curt manner.
The man wore black. Trousers, jacket and peaked skip cap, all were black. His trainers were lighter, with splashed mud on both shoes. His cap was back to front. The man approached further. He repeated himself.
‘Yes, lost,’ said Freddy showing no emotion.
‘You mean your dog’s lost?’ he asked looking around.
‘No. No dog. I don’t have a dog. I’m lost.’
The man realised this was not a normal conversation but had no idea why. Perhaps he was just gullible, soft, an easy touch, perhaps even an easy target. The sort of person he could find useful.
‘So where do you live?’ he asked raising his eyebrows at this enigmatic individual.
Freddy took a moment to reply to this stranger. He gazed at him. No, he had never seen him before. ‘Leyland Mill Lane,’ he replied.
‘Okay, follow me,’ the man said turning round and flipping his cap once more to the front.
Freddy was pleased to be found and more than happy to be on his way with his rescuer.
‘What’s your name?’ Freddy asked.
The man looked at Freddy for a moment. ‘My name’s Donkey,’ he said with a tease of a smile.
‘Donkey?’ Freddy’s lips widened a little. He was sure a joke was about to hit him. Would he understand it?
‘Yea Donkey, it’s my nickname. Have you got one?’
Freddy had had nicknames in the distant past; stupid, dafty, dreamy, spaceman but these did not last once the joke was out. The teachers made sure of that. Nor were they ones he wanted to keep.
‘Nicknames? No I’ve no nickname. I’m Freddy.’
They continued saying nothing until the gates of the park were behind them and they were on the lit pavement.
‘I know where I am now,’ said Freddy.
Donkey looked around, lowering the peak of his cap closer to his eyes.
‘Best make sure I get you home safely.’
‘Yes, home safely, to mum.’
They crossed the road. Donkey took out a cigarette, he lit it.
‘Want one?’ he said offering a protruding cigarette from its packet.
‘No, I don’t want one.’
‘You mean, you don’t want one now?’ he asked with a slightly threatening voice.
‘No, not one now.’
‘Have you ever smoked?’
‘No, I’ve never smoked.’
Donkey replaced the cigarette and from his pocket brought out another. It was not white. He lit it.
‘Here, try this. If you’ve never had one you don’t know if you’d like one.’
Freddy’s shoulders were tense but his hand reached out. He did not want to displease his rescuer. He took his first puff. He did not inhale; he just puffed out the weed’s smoke.
Donkey smiled. ‘That’s ma boy. Good isn’t it?’
Freddy smiled back. It was the least resistant response he could manage.
Donkey put his hand into his inside jerkin pocket. His fingers fumbled around. ‘Big match on Saturday. Are you going?’ he asked nonchalantly.
‘Match?’
‘Yea Wigan, the Latics against Blackburn Rovers. Local derby game y’know?’
‘Football? No I’m not going.’
‘Yes you are. Here’s a ticket,’ he said thrusting it into his midriff.
The ticket was now his hand. He looked at it with confusion. ‘I can’t pay now.’
‘You don’t have to. Hey, we’re friends. Donkey keeps his friends,’ he said thumping Freddy’s back.
Freddy was initially unsure how to react. His social skills were lacking, except one, and that was to convey a sense of agreement, of gratitude and formality.
‘Thank you very much,’ he said at last.
Eight minutes later, they were on the outskirts of town. Freddy pointed down the road.
‘I live along here.’
Donkey strained his eyes. He saw no house lights ahead. ‘I’ll see you home, best that way. There’s not much lighting around here.’
‘No, not good lighting.’
They proceeded until they reached the drive. It was a long snaking drive with a large Victorian house situated at the top of the incline.
‘You live here?’ asked Donkey in disbelief.
‘Yes, with my mother.’
Donkey looked at the dark foliage as they progressed up the drive. Good cover if needed, he thought.
He looked up at the stone-built three story dwelling. His eyes lingered on the Bay windows at the front, then on the attic in the roof. Probably a pool table up there he thought. A double garage joined the building with a modest five-seated Vauxhall Meriva under its roof. Freddy’s house seemed palatial to him. Best get that confirmed was his thought. ‘Bet that house is worth a couple of million.’
‘Yes, I think so.’
Donkey held his breath ‘So you are a wealthy man?’
‘Yes. My dad died and left me a lot.’
Donkey could hardly hide the smile breaking out. Freddy’s words were like music to his ear. He was onto a winner. Freddy was not a potential drug courier after all. Instead Donkey sensed a golden goose.
‘Okay Freddy. 2.30 pm on Saturday. We’ll meet you at the bridge, far end of the stadium. Know where I mean?’
‘Yes, at the match.’
‘I’ll be with my friend, okay?’ Donkey said hoping he could accept this arrangement.
‘Your friend?’ enquired Freddy.
‘Yes, I’ve lots of friends,’ smiled Donkey patting Freddy’s shoulder.
He wondered who his friend might be. Would he know him? He asked anyway.
‘Bones is what he’s called.’
Freddy smiled. ‘Nickname?’
‘Yea, it’s his nickname.’
That night after explaining how he got lost, Freddy told his mother he had made a new friend. He was also given a football ticket and he would be going with him on Saturday to the local derby. His mother Elsie smiled.
‘That was very kind of him,’ she said giving her a glow of happiness on hearing the news of a thoughtful new friend.
‘Yes, mum. He’s very kind.’
Elsie walked through to the wall calendar behind the kitchen door and made a note of Freddy’s outing to the DW stadium on Saturday. Beside it she wrote: Prepare sandwiches for Freddy and his new friend.
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