BR: Boy A (Jonathan Trigell)

In 1993 two ten year old boys abducted a two year old boy, took him to an isolated location where they tortured and murdered him. I remember the case well because it shocked and horrified me, but I never could condemn the children who committed this act even if they had known full well what they were doing. Children do what they have learned, and they cope and manifest their emotions in unpredictable ways. Moreover, these two boys were children and there is no way to predict how they will mature. In my experience, children explore their evil sides at a young age and if left untempered, without discipline and guidance, it’s not unimaginable for them to go too far.

I don’t know if the author was inspired by that case, though it seems likely he was, and I commend and thank him for taking something like this and crafting it into a novel that is both moving and disturbing. I also thank Emily for gifting me this book.

In this novel Jack is Boy A, one of two boys who were convicted of murdering a girl their own age. Jack, which is not his real name, and Boy B were pre-pubescent boys when the murder occurred and both claimed their innocence, accusing the other. As an adult, newly released from a life of juvenile detention and prison, Jack is a naïve innocent, unaccustomed to society, its norms, practices, demands. Terry, his advisor, mentor, father figure and legally assigned protector, introduces him to the new world, a boarding house and job. Nothing is too demanding for a socially acclimatized individual, but to Jack the experiences are daunting. I related to this, in a small way, and felt deeply for Jack’s anxieties.

An example is Jack’s first experience of an automatic washing machine. It stalls as he is cooking a meal for himself, so he goes to tend to the machine thinking it will take just a minute, but it all goes awry.

The switch comes away in his hand, leaving a hole. Jack is staring at it when the water starts pouring out on to the floor. He tries to push the switch, which he sees is really a screw-plug, back into its slot. But he fumbles, and it jumps skittishly away, into the water already flowing behind his knees. As he turns to reclaim the plug, Jack sees the flames snaking out of the grill. They lick dark venom on to the clean white of Kelly’s oven. He’s caught for a moment, unsure which disaster to counter first. The fire makes his choice by grasping at the wallpaper. Still holding the plug, Jack leaps to his bare feet, nearly slipping in the water. He turns off the gas and thrusts the burning grill pan into the sink. The fat spits, hissing onto his hand and cheek, but the flames quickly die. Although the water is barely trickling out now, and the floor is already flooded, he screws the plug back in, as tight as it will go.

He slumps down in the pool of water, covering the washing machine’s still-laughing mouth with his back, and holding his burned cheek with his burned hand.

It’s a comedic scene, but so heartbreaking and indicative of how hard he tries and how little he knows.

As he settles in, slowly making friends, learning what he can and can’t do, living with memories of beatings, victimization, suicide ideation and the unabridged hatred of society because he is a convicted kiddie-killer, Jack must call on his tattered inner strength to keep it all together. Most of all, he must keep his past a secret – tell no-one, be careful of everything he does, don’t drink too much alcohol in case his tongue loosens to reveal the truth. Always in the back of his mind is the only option available to him if it all goes wrong: suicide.

After he picks himself up, Jack shaves with his new cut-throat razor. He holds the blade inwards, stroking it with his thumb, feeling the comforting sharpness, so honed it has to be restrained. The razor wants to sever his skin. That’s why it feels so good to shave with. Jack feels alive this close to the choice. He senses intensely the vertigo of possibility – the fear he might go with the urge to slip into jugular. And, having made his decision, not dying makes him feel stronger.

There are too many scenes to quote, too much about this book that can’t be given credit in such a short review. The writing is literary, poetic and melancholy – all the attributes I adore! On every page is an underlying sense of doom, of every high being met by an eventual low, of the promise of an ending that will tear my heart out.

The further I got into this book, the more nervous I became, and the revelation near the end was enough to dislodge me. I must have known it was a possibility but I’d so unerringly longed to believe that it wasn’t, so much so that when it was spelled out, plain and simple, I had to put the book down and process what that meant in the face of all I knew about Jack and how much I had come to love him.

The ending is unclear, Jack’s fate is unclear and it needs to be so. I like to think he finds peace without dying, but I wonder if ever he can. In a world that wishes you dead, how can you ever find peace?

After reading this book I caught up on the fate of the two boys who had murdered the two year old boy, Martin Bolger. This is one of many links about the case and the current status: http://www.snopes.com/politics/crime/bulger.asp

I didn’t even have to think very hard to remember the child’s name, which shows how much the case imprinted on my mind. After reading this book, more than ever I hope that those two boys (now men) can find peace in their lives. I doubt very much that either of them will go on to kill again, but will they ever have happy lives, knowing that the world is waiting for them, or someone who knows the truth about them, to slip up. It’s frightening. One of the most frightening things I can imagine.

Rating: *****+ stars out of five. A must read!