**Diary Entry 4th June, 2024**
By sixty, Reginald Brewer was haunted by the choices of his youth. Lately, memories of past mistakes crept in like unwelcome shadowsage brings reflection, no matter how hard he tried to shrug them off.
Even as a boy, Reggie had a temper. His sense of justice burned fiercelyhe couldnt stand unfairness and never backed down from a fight. Growing up, lads would seek him out to settle disputes.
*”Alright, Reg, tell us whos in the wrongif Tommy and Liam nicked apples from Old Man Higgins orchard, but only Liam got caught, then grassed Tommy up, and Tommy thumped him for it. Then Liams dad gave Tommy a hiding. Whos the tosser here?”*
Reggie always had an answer. The boys respected him for it.
Then, in Year 9, another injustice struck. Reggie was the schools best athletefootball, volleyball, cross-countrybut skiing was his pride. When the district championships came, the school held trials. Reggie won by a mile.
*”No question, youll be picked,”* his mate Tommy assured him.
But the PE teacher had other plans. He handed the spot to Ethan, the headmasters nephewa smug grin on his face as the announcement was made. The class erupted, but the teacher shut them down. Reggie, jaw clenched, confronted him.
*”Hows that fair?”*
*”Ethans leaving after GCSEs. Youll go next year. Now move along.”* A dismissive pat on the back sealed it.
On the walk home, Reggie cornered Ethan. He didnt think hed hit him hardbut Ethan missed the race. Neither of them went. Detentions followed, and Ethans mumthe history teachermade Reggies life hell. By Year 10, hed had enough. He dropped out, ignoring his parents protests.
*”Mum, lay off. I wont last another termIll lose my temper again.”* She knew his rage too well to argue.
Work was scarce in the village, so he took a job at the local farm. Reggie shadowed old Mick, the vet, learning the trade. Mick saw his knack for it.
*”Shame you didnt stay in school, lad. Youd have made a fine vet.”*
*”I like fixing animals,”* Reggie admitted.
But fate had a twist: Ethan qualified as a vet and replaced Mick when he retired. Reggie watched silently as Ethan fumbledbook-smart but clueless in practice. He bit his tongue.
*”Hes got the diploma. Must know what hes doing.”*
Then the farm manager ordered Ethan to vaccinate the livestocka task Reggie couldve done blindfolded. Ethan panicked and went to Mick, who was laid up with a broken leg.
*”Ask Reggie. He knows the ropes.”*
Ethan swallowed his pride. *”Need help with the jabs. Cant manage alone.”*
Old resentment flared. *”Youre the professional. Its your payday, not mine.”* He walked off.
The next day, the manager tore into Ethan in front of everyone. Humiliated, Ethan found Reggie again, reeking of whisky, near tears.
*”Im sorryabout school. I remember it too. Just help me.”*
Reggie relented. *”Cant hold a grudge forever.”*
They finished the job swiftly. The manager praised thembut Ethans thanks was a bottle of Scotch. Reggie stared at it, then smashed it against a stone.
*”A cheers wouldve done.”*
Years passed. When wages dried up, Reggie started raising cattle for meat. One day, old Mrs. Wilkins asked for a lift to the hospitalher bus fare was too much. He refused payment, but she left cash on the seat.
*”For petrol, love. Might need you again.”*
Word spread. Soon, half the village hitched rides with Reggiepaying what they could, or nothing at all. Then Nigel, a neighbour, undercut him, charging fixed rates. Complaints poured in.
*”Why fleece our own?”* Reggie confronted him.
*”My car, my prices. Jealous Im stealing your trade?”* Nigel smirked.
Reggies fist flew. Nigel whinged to the villagebut no one cared. They stuck with Reggie.
Another time, he and Sam dug septic tanks. Business boomed; they hired extra hands. When Reggie fell ill, Sam finished the joband pocketed his cut.
*”Archie swears he paid you,”* Reggie pressed.
*”Blokes lying!”*
Turns out, Sam had shorted the lads. Reggie stormed over.
*”Wheres their money?”*
*”Spent it. Took the wife shopping”*
Reggie hit him. They never spoke again.
Now, at sixty, guilt gnaws at him. The vicars sermons on sin echo in his mind.
*”Fighting for fairness but was it right? If someone thumped my boys, Id be furious. I was wrong.”*
Sleepless nights taunt him. Sams dead nowbooze did him inbut the regret lingers.
*”Wish I could fix it. Too late.”*
A hard lesson: fists dont mend injusticethey just leave more bruises.
