The Ballad of Henry Morgan

Henry Morgan didn't know what he had done to deserve this. It wasn't as though he had done anything terribly wrong. He had just been neglectful. That was it! He had just forgotten! An oversight! But now he was going to have to pay for his forgetfulness. Just as the Bible says; if you know what is right and you fail to do what is right, then it is a sin for you; the sin of omission his Sunday school teacher had called it and now he was going to be punished for it.
He leant back in the chair in which he was sitting and tried to be philosophical about the whole affair as if it could bring him comfort but it wasn't any good. Rubbing his fingers he noticed his palms were sweaty and his pulse had quickened considerably. Throwing a brief glance at the clock on the wall, he was suddenly aware of the ticking. Each tick bought him closer to his time.
He tried to remember the good times in his life; to take is mind off
the impending doom that was soon to befall him. Long the summers when
he was a boy. Summers that seem to last for so much longer than they did now! The long walks through the open fields heaving with buttercups. The yellow flowers would tower above him as he thrashed his way through them towards the blackthorn hedge with the little stream that ran alongside then underneath it.
They were such happy times. He wished he could recapture those moments. The age of innocence, when you didn't decide for yourself the difference between right and wrong it was decided for you. But it was gone. Gone forever. And what now? His future was decided for him.
He had been warned. So many times he was warned but he didn't listen. He
turned a deaf ear the all the exhortations. He wouldn't be told, and
now the people would no longer be able to alert him to the dangers because the fruit of his errors were now upon him.
He watched with nervous eyes as the door opened and a person clad in white stood in the doorway looking at him. His execution had arrived. The hangman’s advocate had come to lead him to his destiny.
There was no escaping now. Once beyond that door there was no return. He thought about begging, pleading for clemency. He thought about throwing himself at the person’s mercy, offering anything if only they would show him a way out, any slim chance of escape, anything! Whatever was demanded of him he would do it. Whatever sum extorted from him he would gladly pay, just let him evade what was behind that door.
Too late! The person gripped him under his arm and helped him to his feet. He looked into the face. It wasn't what he expected. There was no malice there, no sneers of disdain. More like pity. No, more of empathy, laced with understanding.
Without knowing why he suddenly felt at ease with the situation and with passive resignation let himself be led away to have his sentence carried
out.
He was led into a small brightly lit room, a single chair in its center and laid out neatly on trays were all the instruments of torture. His heartbeat quickened at the sight of it all and small beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. A lone figure stood by the apparatus and with an almost casual wave of the arm beckoned him forward.
Henry took a few tentative paces forward and then as if he was stung by a wasp, took complete control of his emotions and strode forward and sat purposefully in the chair that had been prepared for him. The person who had led him into this gruesome dungeon stood by his side.
Henry looked about him. The walls were sterile with only one door. There were three windows along one wall but they were high up, too high to climb up to and crawl out of.
The figure, whom had been waiting for him when he entered the room, deftly lifted the first of the instruments that was going to be used upon him and with professional grace coupled with a face beaming with malevolent glee, looked him in the eye and spoke with soft, reassuring tones.
"Now Mr. Morgan, just try to relax and open as wide as you can and
let's see if we can do something about that troublesome tooth of yours."

THE END