James Cooper Markel

Chapter One

No-one had ever suggested to Peter Markel, that he might not be the cleverest person in the room. As he had had only lived in rooms and other small spaces that can be included in the metaphor, Peter had no reason to believe that he wasn't the cleverest person in the world. When he went off to university he continued to exist in rooms and continued to believe himself defiantly cleverer than his peers. Instead of admitting his lack of academic superiority Peter created a web of delusion. If one is never wrong how can one possibly suggest that one is not the cleverest they are just equal with those who never disagree with them, he would console himself pretentiously. As such Peter surrounded himself with a group of friends who were as flawed as himself, and agreed with all he said. There lack of intelligence meant that it never occurred to them to check that Peters delusion was complete. The fact was that Peter Markel was clever, just not clever enough. He created a delusion, yet was clever enough to know it for what it was. He argued and won against his friends and was the cleverest person in that room, however he knew that other rooms required more than vehemence and rhetoric. He was better at defeating himself in argument than his friends were. He would twist himself in knots and his friends would bow to his superior skill. In short Peter was a very unhappy man. He was also a very bad father. He also had a son, who is the focus of our story, his son was the son of a bad father. You may not like him, I give you this background so that you can understand, if not forgive, his faults. The story starts on the day that Peter Markel killed himself, his corpse was twisted, his face distorted and his liver bitter. A bottle of whisky was found in Markel's left hand, a razor in his right. He was alone when he committed suicide, he died the as he lived. The cleverest man in a very small room.

James Cooper Markel, really needed a piss, really needed one. He knocked on his bathroom door, wondering what the hell his dad was doing. Glancing at the clock, hung on the wooden wall he saw that he had to leave. Stinking, and with a full bladder James Cooper left his house and took a piss on the hedge outside. Sadly, Miss Paterson, who James Cooper had something of a crush on, passed by walking the dog, James Cooper wondered what the appropriate etiquette was and then decided he had probably broken any rule of etiquette when he pissed on the bush. He let Miss Paterson pass him by as he gave a shake or two and got his trousers done up. The village in which he lived was not the sort of one where James Cooper could get away with public urination, Miss Paterson would talk to Helen at the shop, who would tell everyone who came in the shop, word would pass around, by five in the evening, Arina, would have heard from her mother that James Cooper, the son of that layabout pig had been pissing in 'Public' in his bush despite his house being right behind him. All James Cooper would have to say is that it wasn't public, his garden was his own property. He somehow thought that arguing semantics was not going to get him out of this one.

Some history and contest my now be appropriate. James Cooper, lives in the village of Chickerston, which is situated just outside of Bethem, a small city in the run of things but one which has somehow managed to let the industrial revolution pass it by. Chickerston is, as most villages are, situated around church. That church being St Peters, however it was also the first village to have another church built upon it's land. That church being "The Most Sacred and Holy Trinity, the Virgin Mary and Our Lord and Savour Jesus Christ." Which most villagers shortened to, the most pointless church in history. However the church attracted a small group of protestant followers to the village one of whom was Peter Markel. Since this time, protestant churches had sprung up in other places however to the older members of the community it was still a source of great shame.

None of this interested the impetuous James Cooper, he was waiting to travel, well just about anywhere with smoke and coughing people. James Cooper hated the slow, dragging village life to which he was subjected. James Cooper wanted to leave. He'd even leave Arina, who would barely notice anyway. Today, was that day, he just wished it could have started better, pissing into a bush was hardly the heroic, brave start he'd imagined.