 "I'm afraid to say it,"
Mark said. "But I can write it in the sand."
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| "This is a story my
Grandpa told me,"
Mark began.
"Long ago in an old English township lived a ten year old boy who's
name was ... I am afraid to say it," Mark said, "but I can
write
it in the sand." Mark bent over, picked up a stick and proceeded to
scratch a name in the sand. "Don't say it out loud," he excitedly
cautioned everyone. "Why not?" chimed a couple of the boys in unison. "Because," whispered Mark. "Just listen." Mark stirred the coals with the stick and proceeded with the story. The chit chat around the fire ceased as Mark drew his audience into the tale. "The boy did not like his name. it sounded funny and the other kids teased him. They taunted him saying his name over and over. The kids had fun rolling the name off their tongues and it quickly became a term of derision and ridicule. The boy grew into manhood bitter and hating the very mention of his name. He moved from the burrow and changed his name. All was well and good until one day in a local pub he heard from the back of the room a sarcastic voice Mockingly calling out his name over and over again. Rage boiled up inside the man. He turned and in a zombie like stride he walked back to where the voice was coming from. Without hesitation he began beating the man. Years of hatred fueled his blows and by the time he was pulled off, the heckler was dead. The trial was short and the penalty severe. "You shall be hung by the neck until you are dead," The hanging took place at dawn. The constable read the warrant and pronounced the name loud and clear with a derisive sneer." The mans lips curled as he snarled, " I will haunt you to the grave and anyone else who dares to say my name out loud." |
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